Bryn: The True

By Kris Mosley

Since early childhood Bryn’s known she was different from everyone around her. By sixth grade she was almost six feet tall with spooky light blue eyes, pale skin and masses of curly blonde hair. The kids at school think she’s a pale-eyed freak and call her “ghost girl”. Her adopted parents don’t have any of the answers she so desperately seeks.

Who are her birth parents? Why does she have freaky, unexplainable abilities? Who can explain the ticking clock she has inside her that is growing in strength and speed as she grows. Why is she certain a battle is looming in her future . . . a battle that could kill her if she’s not careful. Who is the evil man who is determined to find and control her at all costs? Will she be ready when the time comes?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483550022

Book preview

9781483550022

PROLOGUE

Bryn shot straight up in bed. Frantically looking around, her heart beating out of her chest.

No Curt. Just a nightmare.

She took a deep breath of the cool rain scented air coming in through the open window, trying to calm the shaking. She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms tightly around them and dropped her head forward, waiting for the sick butterflies in her stomach to stop fluttering around and her heartbeat to slow. A cold nose nudged her neck with a questioning grumble.

It’s okay, Atticus, just another nightmare.

He moved in tighter to her side, grumbling a little more, offering comfort and warmth. He was a wolf-shepherd hybrid, large and fierce looking with loyalty and strength that had made him her savior on several occasions. He’d been her constant companion and best friend for the last two and a half years, since she’d found him as an abandoned puppy in a ditch on her way home from school.

This nightmare should be an old acquaintance by now with no power to distress her, but somehow it never seemed to get better. How many nights had she awakened in fear of Curt leaning over her, leering, with that intent, evil look on is face. How she feared him and despised him, even hated him. Thinking of him caused her stomach to clench, bile rising up her throat. She swallowed convulsively trying to calm her shaky nerves. He was back in town. She knew her time had run out. She needed to be long gone by tomorrow or the next day at the latest.

It was time to run. Disappear.

She didn’t want to leave. Verdant Valley Farm was her home. Had been for the last twelve years. The people here were her loved ones, her family. She loved the beauty, the quiet, and the peace that existed here: the bustle of work, the sounds of the tractors in the misty morning hours, the farm laborers moving about and Ben’s whistling as he headed out to the greenhouses. She loved the endless acres of planted mint, the greenhouses filled with herbs and the steam from the hot springs that wound through this part of the country. The old house was always filled with the wonderful scents of Maia’s baking. This was where she belonged. This was home.

But not for long.

With Ben’s help she’d carefully and meticulously planned her escape for several months. Ever since she turned seventeen she felt like there was something ticking inside her. Tick, tick, tick! It was weird. She first felt it on March 20, her birthday. It started out quiet but persistent. It was slowly getting more powerful, unrelenting. She didn’t know what it meant but it gave her a sense of urgency.

But even more pressing than the ticking was Curt the Creep’s return.

SEVENTEEN YEARS EARLIER BAINBRIDGE ISLAND

Chapter 1

Brandon Thorsted was in his in downtown Seattle high-rise office, sitting behind his massive hand-carved mahogany desk. It had belonged to a great grandfather a few generations back and had been stashed in the attic at the house. He’d unearthed it, painstakingly restored it and hauled it to his office.

He was brown haired, average in looks. A tall, quiet and thoughtful man of keen intellect and ironclad integrity. He had inherited money and had the smarts and skills to make it into a sizable fortune. He was however a bit inept socially, more than a bit actually. He’d had little to do with the social scene due to work interests, demands and just plain awkwardness, until he’d met and married Eden in a whirlwind courtship two years ago.

He swiveled his leather chair around, his back to the book-lined room, looking out the wall of windows toward the ocean that was studded with boats. The view was breath taking. It was another of those gleaming, crystalline Seattle days that rocked the senses. Anyone with half a brain would throw off work and escape outdoors. Something Brandon was seriously considering. He could head home, pull out the Sea Ray and take off onto the water. He wanted the buzz of speed the powerboat would offer and the escape from troubling thoughts.

His intercom gave off a quiet, discreet buzz.

Mr. Thorsted?

Brandon spun his chair, the leather squeaking as he leaned forward to press the intercom. Yes Lisa?

There’s someone here to see you, sir. Someone I think you’d like to see.

Did I have an appointment I forgot about?

No sir, but… Lisa sounded almost breathless, flustered. Impossible, Brandon thought. Nothing could rattle his imperturbable personal assistant. She’d been with him for years, handled unhappy competitors, difficult clients, pretty much anything he’d thrown at her. She was a rock, invaluable and more importantly, loyal. Sir, can I send him in?

Brandon rose to his feet and strode across the gleaming hardwood floor toward the door, thinking he’d handle this in person. Before he reached it, the door swung open. Outlined in the doorway was one of the most imposing men he’d ever seen. No wonder Lisa sounded breathless. The man had to be at least 6’8". with a broad shouldered powerful physique. He was simply put, overwhelming. He was impeccably, expensively dressed. He extended his hand as he entered the room walking toward Brandon.

Recognition took only seconds.

Mr. Magnusson, what a surprise. Welcome. Brandon quickly covered the remaining distance with his hand outstretched as well and felt his hand engulfed in a massive handshake.

Brandon wasn’t a short man by any means. He stood 6’3" in his stocking feet, but with this man he felt positively dwarfed. Speaking of stocking feet, he glanced down and realized that as usual, he’d kicked off his shoes. There was a small hole in his right sock, just where his big toe sat. Plus one sock appeared to be dark blue and the other black. Argh! Oh man! Talk about not making a good impression.

Please, sir, won’t you come in and sit down?

He indicated one of the large leather chairs placed in front of his desk. Instead of retreating behind his desk to hunt for his shoes, he moved to one of the matching chairs, waiting for Leif Magnusson to take a seat before sitting down, facing one of his most powerful and wealthy clients. He waited in silence.

Leif glanced around the office, taking in the clean lines, the walls of books, the gleaming floor and the wall of windows that looked out at the water before taking a seat. He studied the young man he’d grown to respect and even admire. His money, the very small portion he’d had Brandon handle for him, had been honestly and carefully invested. The returns had been impressive. He knew him to be a man of integrity and intelligence, hard work and decency. He needed someone he could trust for this new and most important of all investments. Someone discreet and Brandon fit the bill.

Leif had immediately noticed the stocking feet and the hole and smiled inwardly. He’d purposely not made an appointment today. It was important that no one knew he was here. He knew Brandon’s personal assistant to be discreet and had already asked her to mention this visit to no one.

A background check on Brandon had come back clean as a whistle. He came from a fine family. His parents had raised him in a loving home, instilled values in his life, and emphasized the importance of family. Two years ago he’d married a beautiful model. Her background had been carefully investigated and she’d been cleared as well.

Brandon, I want to talk to you about something of great importance that will require your utmost discretion.

Yes, sir. I hope you know that you can trust me.

I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I have looked into your background, watched you very closely over the last few months.

Really? Why?

Something’s come up recently that has changed my life and that of my family. He looked at Brandon intently. My wife and I have two sons and are fostering three others as well. We thought we were through having our family and have felt blessed with the five boys. Recently we found out we’re expecting triplets, girls.

Wow, Brandon gave a quick nervous laugh, that’s a game changer isn’t it?

More than you know. Leif leaned toward Brandon and placed his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them. Is it true you and your wife are trying to start a family?

Looking puzzled Brandon nodded. We’re trying. No success so far. I know it’s only been two years, but we’re getting anxious. We’ve recently been talking about adoption.

Yes, I know.

What? How?

That doesn’t matter. What matters is what I want to discuss with you now, something of great importance to my family, something you have to swear you’ll mention to no one. Not your wife. Not your personal assistant. No one.

Brandon felt speared by the intensity of Leif’s gaze. Um, okay. The words came out a bit rusty. He cleared his throat and tried again, You have my promise.

Leif sat back abruptly, ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand on end. Brandon noticed for the first time that it wasn’t gray but a very pale silvery blonde.

The lives of our ‘soon to be born’ daughters are in danger.

Excuse me? Brandon looked at Leif in shock, thinking he’d misheard him.

Let me explain this as best I can then you can ask questions, okay? I can’t promise that I’ll answer everything, although I’ll fill you in on what I can.

Leif paused for a few minutes as if to collect his thoughts. I come from an ancient Celtic lineage; one that’s been around for hundreds of years. Once every century a set of triplets are born into our family. They are always destined to play a critical role in the world. Have you ever heard of the Norns from Old Norse mythology or the Germanic Matres or Matrones?

He took in Brandon’s blank look and didn’t wait for a response. They were three sisters considered deities by some, referred to as the three daughters of Eve by others. The Greeks called them the Moirai or the Three Graces. In Sweden they were called the Disir or sometimes referred to as the Valkyries. There’s an annual festivity that is still celebrated each year, honoring them during the vernal equinox in Uppsala, Sweden. In medieval times it was called Dísablót now the celebration’s known as the Disting.

He paused a moment looking keenly at Brandon, gauging his reactions, then continued. They have been given many different names in both history and in literature. Although much of what has been written through the centuries is more myth than fact. In the previous two centuries, one or more of the three has been killed. Leif’s voice dropped in depth, almost a growl. This time we’re not going to allow that to happen. Not on my watch.

Brandon, feeling uncomfortable, leaned back in his chair, as if to put more space between them. He had great respect for this man’s reputation, but come on. Leif Magnusson was known to be brilliant, shrewd and powerful, but this story was a bit bizarre, even for someone of his repute. Was Leif trying to convince him that his daughters were destined to be the new three sisters?

I know what you’re thinking Brandon, Leif gave a rusty chuckle that sounded seldom used. You’ve decided there must be a strain of instability or insanity in my family. I can only reassure you that what little I can tell you is the truth. I cannot tell you more than this. He gave a deep sigh as though it pained him to continue. Now, here’s where you come in. We want you to adopt one of our daughters.

Whoa, wait a minute. Brandon started to stand. Leif speared him with a look that caused him to quickly drop back into his chair.

Hang on, let me finish. It’s absolutely vital that the girls live safely until eighteen years of age. After that, they’re secure. Nothing can touch them. We’ve decided the best way to ensure that happens is to have them raised apart. Adopted by separate families, families that are not connected to us in a way that can be traced.

But, sir …

Leif held up his hand to stop Brandon.

Give me just a few more minutes, then I’ll answer your questions. We want the girls to have normal childhoods, to grow up loved and part of a family. They need to go to school, have friends, date, all the things girls get to do as they grow up. If they stay with us they’ll have to be watched every minute of every day and that would be a terrible way to spend their first eighteen years. They would feel imprisoned, plus, it could possibly endanger the lives of our sons. We also don’t know if we can completely trust all those who work for us.

He continued, My wife, Briet, and I have agonized over this for months, trying to find the best solution for all involved and finally come to the understanding that there is no perfect answer. This is the best we can come up with. He looked down at his clasped hands, shrugged then seemed to almost force himself to continue. We have carefully screened and chosen three families, of which you are one. Leif paused then looked at Brandon with his heart in his eyes, I’m asking you to raise one of my daughters.

Brandon was stunned! Surprised! Shocked! Wasn’t it just a few minutes ago that all he was thinking about was taking the boat out for spin? Life had just gotten really complicated really fast. He leaned forward. I’m, uh, well, I’m not sure what to say. I’m actually kind of blown away.

Leif nodded but kept quiet.

I’d need to discuss this with my wife. This would be a huge decision.

No.

What? No what?

Leif shook his head. "I need you to make the decision now. As bizarre as this sounds, I don’t want you to discuss this with your wife beforehand. You need to make this decision on your own. I don’t want speculation or discussion of any kind. Your wife would more than likely chat about this with friends and who knows where it would go from there. This needs to, must, be kept private," he declared in a hard voice.

How soon would this happen?

Briet is due to deliver any day now, during the vernal equinox as a matter of fact. I’ve purposely waited until the last minute. Her life and the lives of my daughters and my sons have to be protected.

So, am I going to have to hire security to protect her if I decide to do this?

No. My daughter, he grimaced, your daughter, will live a perfectly normal life. She’ll basically be hiding in plain sight. There is more I need to tell you about her, what to expect. He sighed and continued, She’s not going to be like other children her age. She’ll learn things quickly, very quickly and at a younger age than you expect. Leif proceeded to fill Brandon in on many of the essentials. I can assure you raising her will be rewarding and a challenge as well.

Brandon felt like he’d been hit by a car.

Look Brandon, I know you’re not prepared for this. I’ll provide a nanny to help out and have in fact, hired one for just this reason. She’s a distant relation of mine from Germany. Her name is Gretchen. She’s trained to not only help with the baby; she will assist with household chores, plus she’s trained as a bodyguard.

Bodyguard? Good grief! Brandon rubbed his eyes.

Leif smiled.

Brandon straightened up and leaned back in his chair. What happens when she turns eighteen?

Sorry. That I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that when she turns seventeen she’s going to notice something different going on inside her. At seventeen and a half she’s going to need to come back to us for a while. She’ll need training and she’ll have lots of questions only we can answer.

So she’ll be my daughter for only a few years then go back to you?

No Brandon. I would imagine she would always feel a special bond with you. You get the privilege of raising her, watching her first steps, hearing her first words, all the milestones of youth. We’re going to miss out on all that and it’s frankly breaking my wife’s heart to even think about it. He paused and looked away for a moment than back at Brandon. Mine too.

This is a huge decision, sir. I’m feeling overwhelmed and frankly, scared. What if I botch this? What if I’m a lousy father? I’ve never done this before and could screw it up royally. He leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Could he do this? Did he have the courage to take this opportunity? Would he be a fool to let this pass him by? How much of what Leif told him could he possibly believe? But a child, a daughter … what a gift!

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, leaned toward Leif and with a lopsided smile said, Okay. My answer is yes. I want to do this. He gave a quick laugh. I’m in!

Leif leaned back and let out a deep sigh. He was pleased and heartsick at the same time. Who would have thought life would throw such a difficult decision at him, one he was forced to make for the safety of his daughters, his wife and his sons.

One more thing Brandon. No one, absolutely no one can know where she came from and who her birth parents are. It’s essential that you don’t communicate with us at all. The tie must be severed completely. Only under the most dire circumstances should you contact me about her. Do you understand?

Yes sir, I understand.

Brandon and Leif both stood at the same time. Brandon extended his hand, which was again gripped in a massive handshake. You have my word sir. I won’t let you down.

Chapter 2

For many generations Brandon’s family had owned an estate with water frontage on Bainbridge Island. An only child, he was the sole owner, since his parents had been killed in a car accident years ago. It sat in the middle of several acres of lawn surrounded by beautifully landscaped grounds, meticulously maintained by the gardener, Joseph. The back of the estate was open to the water, with a substantial dock and boathouse housing two boats: a large, beautifully maintained wood-hulled, twin engine Sea Ray and a sleek, well-used sailboat. The boats, like the house, had been in the family for years.

Eden was sitting, poised on a stone bench, on the front porch of this venerable house, waiting for the car her agent was sending to pick her up. The sky was a moody overcast gray, but at least it wasn’t raining, although it looked like it could start at any moment. Typical Seattle. She hated the frizzy hair that came with the rain.

She was going to lunch with Roger, a model she’d done numerous shoots with and later meet with her agent, Nigel. Roger was impossibly good looking and they looked good together, plus Eden liked working with him.

Brandon had just called and asked her to change her plans or at least delay them for an hour or so and she was definitely not happy about it. As a matter of fact she wasn’t happy about several aspects of her life, especially her marriage to Brandon.

She’d done her homework and had been convinced that with Brandon’s money and connections their lives would be full of parties, vacations and social events. She wanted and needed to be seen as part of the social world in Seattle. After all what else was there in life? Plus she knew she was getting up there in years, at least for a model and needed to look to her future. In the beginning she’d honestly thought a life with Brandon would be wonderful. She’d wanted to make her marriage work and had even convinced herself she loved him. After all he was sweet and charming and lovable.

Her cell rang.

Hi, Sweetheart. I’ll be home in five minutes. There was joy in Brandon’s voice.

Eden flipped her hair over her shoulder in irritation. How she hated him calling her sweetheart! So corny. So middle class. It seemed everything about him annoyed her lately.

I appreciate you putting Roger off for a little while. I have the most amazing news. Brandon sounded almost giddy with excitement.

What’s going on Brandon? You know I don’t like surprises.

Remember how we talked about adoption?

Now wait just a minute. We only discussed it. Nothing was agreed on. I told you I’d think about. Besides she added coyly, we’re having so much fun trying to have baby of our own.

What Brandon didn’t know was she was on the pill. She had no intention of spoiling her figure or trashing her career, at least not yet or for several years to come, if even then.

Eden, sweetheart, we talked about starting a family the entire time we dated. You told me you wanted a family as much as I do. I know you’re worried about it creating new demands in your life, but I promise I’ll take care of that. This is, well, it’s just an opportunity we can’t pass up. I’m coming up the drive now. Meet me out front.

Eden stood up and watched as a brand new white Mercedes SUV approached the house down the long tree lined drive. Where was the BMW coupe? She absolutely refused to be seen in a stupid SUV even if it was a Mercedes. She stepped off the portico onto the circular driveway.

Brandon pulled to a stop and jumped out with a big grin on his face. Wait until you see her…

What?

Come over here. Come on. Come take a look, he called.

He opened the back door and reached inside. He fumbled with the catches that he wasn’t used to dealing with, but eventually disengaged the carrier from its base. He carefully lifted the baby seat and moved toward Eden. He gently pulled back a creamy yellow blanket. Look sweetheart, isn’t she beautiful?

Eden looked down at one of the most extraordinary babies she’d ever seen. The baby had a halo of whitish blonde curls, interesting dark winged brows and heavy dark lashes currently resting on her cheeks. She was sound asleep. Eden found herself curious about the baby’s eye color.

What’s this about Brandon? She scowled and took a step back. Is this a joke?

What? No. Eden, she’s ours!

Now wait just a minute, she snarled as she placed her fisted hands on her hips. Eden looked away from Brandon when a door on the Mercedes closed with a thud. She looked at the young woman standing by the car door then at Brandon with a scowl.

Brandon gave a small laugh, shot a sheepish look at the unknown, temporarily forgotten woman and looked back at Eden. In all the excitement, I forgot to tell you. The baby comes with a nanny. Isn’t that great? Eden, this is Gretchen, Gretchen, this is Eden.

Eden, cast a scornful glance at the rather homely nanny, then launched into Brandon again, her voice raised to a shout. I refuse to do this Brandon, do you hear me! I’m not ready to be a mother. Take her back now. I will not discus this further. Take her back immediately!

Brandon passed the carrier to Gretchen and pointed her toward the front door. He then turned back toward his wife, a set determined look on his face, one Eden had never seen before. He looked positively intimidating.

This is not negotiable, now or ever, he stated in a hard voice. Am I making myself clear? Bryn is part of our lives from this point forward. She is our daughter and I’ll hear nothing further about this!

Eden was stunned. How had this happened? She’d always gotten her way with Brandon. Sure she’d paid lip service to the idea of a family and she’d also somewhat agreed to the idea of adoption, somewhere in the distant future, but when faced with it she wasn’t happy. Still, the child came with a nanny and fortunately a very plain one. Eden wouldn’t have tolerated anything else.

She looked away from Brandon as Roger came roaring up the drive in his Lamborghini. Fine, Brandon, have it your way. Just don’t count on me to change diapers or handle any of the other messy baby needs.

Roger leaned over and opened the passenger door from behind the wheel. Eden slid in, without glancing back, and they roared off.

What kind of a name is ‘Bryn’ anyway? Eden exclaimed later that evening as she paced around the den. It’s ridiculous!

It’s part of the adoption agreement, sweetheart. Come look at the papers. It states her name here.

When Brandon picked up the packet of papers a gold medallion on a finely wrought gold chain caught on his finger and spun in the light. Fascinated, Eden reached for it.

What’s this? Where did it come from?

Brandon glanced down at it. Oh that. It belongs to Bryn. We’re to give it to her when she turns eight. It has something to do with her heritage.

Brandon pulled it out of Eden’s hands and placed it back in the packet with the bundled papers. He moved over to the wall safe and locked them inside.

Eden decided then and there that the baby wouldn’t mind if she wore the necklace for a while. For some reason she found herself drawn to it. Wanted it. She left the room, waited until Brandon walked downstairs, then quietly slipped back inside. She tiptoed over, checked the hallway and shut the door, then moved to the safe, opened it and pulled out the medallion. It spun on its slender gold chain catching the light. She figured Brandon didn’t need to know she had it. It would belong to her for the next few years and hopefully he would forget all about it.

Eden couldn’t stand the baby’s crying, the messy diapers and the spit up. She refused to hold her fearing she’d stain or wrinkle her outfit. She also found the child’s eyes creepy. They were like a light blue laser surrounded by a darker blue ring.

Brandon on the other hand adored Bryn. He was the first up in the night when she needed to be fed or changed. He’d come home from work early and immediately seek her out. He hauled her around like a football. Where he went, Bryn went. He didn’t want to go out in the evenings. Didn’t want to entertain. Didn’t want to party at all. He loved being a father and adored his tiny daughter.

Eden was seriously annoyed.

Chapter 3

Bryn was a quiet child, tall for her age, skinny. She had a sunny disposition and was easy to please, the only problem; she wasn’t speaking. She was almost three and still hadn’t spoken a word.

What they didn’t know was that she was more than capable. She’d been forming words and talking in her head for years but just hadn’t vocalized them. She was busy dealing with something else going on inside.

She realized very early on that those around her couldn’t hear thoughts the way she could. She understood Gretchen’s thoughts even when she was thinking in German. She understood Joseph, the groundskeeper, when he was thinking in Spanish. She heard her father’s thoughts, her mother’s. All she needed to do was look at a person to key in. Their thoughts came through loud and clear or she could just as easily turn them off by looking away.

She knew that her father, Gretchen and Joseph loved her and that her mother barely tolerated her. She also knew she was adopted. Even though Eden had been given strict instructions to never tell Bryn about the adoption, it didn’t stop her thoughts from broadcasting loud and clear when Bryn looked in at her.

Stupid child. Can’t even speak. Three years old. No telling what her birth mother must be like. Dumb as a box of rocks. If I have to pretend to be a mother, the kid could at least be normal.

Brandon, on the other hand, wasn’t worried. He’d been warned by Bryn’s birth father that her speech would be delayed. It was a family trait. He’d also been told that Bryn would choose the time and place and when she started to speak it would be in sentences.

Because Bryn’s delayed speech, the adults around her carried on conversations with her like she was an adult, a kind of running monologue. They never used baby talk. When she and Gretchen spent time in the kitchen baking, Gretchen would wrap her up in an apron and just instruct.

Pull out the measuring cups and spoons Bryn. Let’s make cookies for your Daddy. Bryn pulled open the drawer and grabbed what Gretchen asked for.

We’ll need both white and brown sugar, also flour and baking powder. Do you know what the baking powder is for? Gretchen looked at Bryn’s upturned face. It’s what makes the cookies puffy and soft. Let’s also get out some vanilla, nuts, butter and chocolate chips.

Bryn opened the cupboard door where Gretchen stored the spices and pulled out the baking powder and vanilla, sugars and flour.

Bryn I need a cup of butter. Do you know how many cubes that is?

She nodded and ran to the refrigerator and pulled out the box. She carried it back to the counter, climbed up on her chair, opened it up and pulled out two cubes then handed them to Gretchen who was shocked. The child may not be ready to speak, but she sure was smart. When Gretchen asked for the one-cup measure Bryn handed her the right cup. When she asked for the one-teaspoon measure Bryn knew that as well. And so the instruction went.

Brandon did the same. He hauled Bryn down to the boathouse when he was working on the Sea Ray engines or to the garage when he was tinkering on an old Harley he was restoring. He discussed and pointed out tools, engine parts and procedures.

Hey everybody, I’m home! Brandon bellowed as he walked in the front door closing it with a bang. Eden? Bryn? Where are my girls?

He placed his briefcase on the table in the massive marble tiled entry and moved through the antique filled living room, headed for the kitchen. It was a room filled with light that faced the back part of the property and was his favorite room in the house. The white glass fronted cabinets gleamed with cleanliness. This was Gretchen’s domain and as usual it was spotless. There were potted herbs in red pots growing on the windowsill that she used for cooking. Copper pots hung from a rack over the island where Gretchen and Bryn were working.

As usual wonderful smells greeted him. Dinner tonight was going to have garlic in it. Yum. Gretchen had taken a couple of cooking courses and was currently working on perfecting Italian cuisine. Unfortunately for him, her cooking was starting to show around his waistline. Oh well, he was in heaven. He’d never eaten so well.

Bryn as usual was aproned-up and standing on a stool watching as Gretchen worked her magic. Both faces, wreathed in smiles, turned to him as he walked into the room.

"They’re both so beautiful," he thought. It gave him a sense of wonder and contentment. He had such a good life. He reached for Bryn and swung her around in a circle, giving her a hug. How’s my best girl? Have you been helping Gretchen this morning? Did Joseph let you help him plant the fall flowers?

Bryn smiled and nodded as Brandon placed her back on the stool.

You’re home early Mr. Brandon. It’s not even lunchtime, Gretchen said in her soft, accented voice.

Yep. I thought I’d see if my girls wanted to go for a sail.

Bryn started jumping up and down and clapping.

Brandon looked at her and grinned. Where’s your mother? Maybe she’d like to come?

Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Brandon, Gretchen shook her head. Miss Eden left a few hours ago to meet with her agent. She told me she might not be back for dinner.

Brandon’s smile slipped for a moment. Oh, well. She’s going to miss out on a good time. Gretchen, I’d like you to come with us instead. Let’s pack a lunch. Make an afternoon of it. We can be back in time for dinner.

Oh, I couldn’t sir. It wouldn’t be right.

Nonsense. Bryn wants you to come and so do I.

Bryn was jumping up and down and clapping again.

C’mon, I’ll help you throw together a couple of sandwiches. We’ll grab a few bottles of water, some apples and we’re set. Gretchen was shaking her head while he continued, I’m not taking no for an answer. Besides I need you to help me keep an eye on Bryn. She’s fascinated with the water and needs constant supervision, especially on the sailboat.

Oh well, in that case, I guess I’d better come.

Brandon grinned in victory and moved toward the refrigerator. Gretchen quickly moved in front of him and plastered herself to front of it. Oh no, Mr. Brandon, I’ll put together a basket of food while you get Bryn ready.

You’re not going to let me help are you? Brandon chuckled. Come on, my skills in the kitchen are legendary. You have to admit I do breakfast really well.

Your idea of fixing breakfast is pouring cold cereal in a bowl and adding milk. That doesn’t qualify as cooking breakfast, Gretchen laughed.

Fine. I’ll get Bryn ready and meet you back here in ten minutes. Let’s get cracking ladies. The ocean is calling.

They decided to take the Sea Ray instead. The water looked pretty crowded and the breeze mild. They’d go out sailing when they had a full day to enjoy it. This was just going to be an afternoon jaunt.

After everyone had their lifejackets on, Gretchen as instructed, untied the ropes from the cleats then jumped aboard as Brandon backed out of the boathouse. It was slow going until they got past the ‘no wake’ zone then Brandon opened the throttle. The Sea Ray practically leaped out of the water; it’s wooden hull slicing through the waves like a knife. Bryn laughed out loud while Gretchen hung on for dear life. She’d only been out on the boat a few times in her life and still felt out of her element. The speed and power were exhilarating but intimidating as well.

They moved up the coastline until they found a quiet area to drop anchor and eat lunch. The wind was cool with fall on the way, but it was pleasant in the sun, the boat gently rocking, as they leisurely ate sandwiches and some of Gretchen’s homemade peanut butter cookies. Brandon couldn’t remember when he’d last been this content. He had a daughter, a full belly and the sun and sea.

He also had Gretchen he thought, or wished he did, as he looked at her through half closed eyes. He was uncomfortable with the feelings he had for her and was very careful that no one would have any idea just how wonderful he thought her to be, no one except Bryn, who without his knowing, read his thoughts.

"She’s everything Eden is not. Loving. Thoughtful. Hard working. Perfect. Okay, not really perfect. Side by side with Eden she’d probably be considered by some to be plain, but Eden’s beauty is merely a façade. Gretchen is the real deal.

He sighed loudly. I’m not a fool; I know Eden’s moved on. Her friends are obviously more than just friends. I was just a stupid, gullible, lovesick fool and it obvious Eden married me for my money. Idiot! I’ve tried hard to make this marriage successful. I guess it’s time to realize that it takes two to make a marriage work and Eden can’t be bothered.

He glanced over at Bryn to find her eyes locked on him. "Amazing how those laser-like blue eyes of hers seemed to see inside his head. Good thing she couldn’t. He felt bad enough about his wayward feelings without his daughter knowing just how miserable he was. He knew he couldn’t continue to live this way. Things with Eden were coming to a head and it was going to get ugly and soon."

Hey, Ladies. Let’s pack it up. It’s getting late, plus there’s a cloudbank building. I’d like to get home before the rain hits. C’mon sleepyhead, he said to Gretchen as he nudged her with his foot. She’d been dozing in the sun. We need to head for home.

Brandon pulled up the anchor and moved toward the wheel as Gretchen and Bryn packed away the remains of their lunch. He slowly turned the boat about and hit the throttle, feeding gas to the powerful twin engines and at the same time Gretchen stood up. The forward thrust of the boat caused her to lose her balance, pitching her over the side of the boat.

Daddy! Bryn screamed over the roar of the motors, Daddy, we’ve lost Gretchen! She’s going to drown!

Brandon looked over his shoulder at his daughter and immediately cut power to the engines. He ran to the side of the boat to see Gretchen soaking wet, bobbing in the water several yards behind them. Sick with worry he leaped up on the side of the boat preparing to dive in and rescue her, but before he could do so she waved and shouted.

I’m all right. Just wet and cold.

Brandon quickly turned the boat around, reached down over the side and fished her out of the water. Her lips were already blue and she was shivering violently.

Hurry Daddy! Get her a blanket or something to warm her up. Wait, I’ll get some towels. Bryn scampered down into the cutty cabin to grab the beach towels stored there. With her arms full she quickly climbed the stairs to be greeted by her father and Gretchen, looks of amazement on their faces.

Bryn, sweetheart, you’re talking, Brandon said with a dazed look on his face. I don’t understand.

We had to save Gretchen, Daddy. I had to tell you we lost her.

Brandon pulled Bryn into a fierce hug then reached over and pulled a shivering, wet Gretchen into it as well.

Our little girl’s decided to speak, he quietly said. Wonder of wonders.

Bryn ambushed Brandon the moment he walked in the door. Daddy, I want to learn how to read big girl books.

Bryn honey, you’re only three, Brandon grinned. We need to wait a year or so. You’ll be ready then.

No Daddy, I’m ready now. Gretchen’s been teaching me my letters and sounds since I was little.

Brandon chuckled, Bryn you’re still little. You just started talking last week. I’ll keep reading to you at night and when you’re four I promise I’ll teach you then.

But, Daddy, I know my ABC’s. I know that C says ‘see, suh and kuh’. I want you to teach me to put the sounds together on big words. I’ve been reading baby books on my own for awhile, but I want your help with the hard ones.

Brandon sighed, reached down, swung her up into his arms and headed for the kitchen and Gretchen. Tell you what pipsqueak. We’ll give it a try. Tonight after dinner I want you to find me a book you think you can read and we’ll see what we can do.

You mean it? Bryn framed his face with her small hands and beamed. You’re the greatest Daddy in the whole world.

That night at bedtime, sitting next to Brandon on her bed, Bryn started to read. She’d chosen her favorite storybook, one they’d read so many times he’d memorized it. He figured she had too when she correctly read each page about Max and the Wild Things. He decided to test his theory. He pulled Put Me in the Zoo from the shelf and opened it to the first page. She shocked him. She read the entire book with no mistakes. Good grief. She not only surprised him, she astounded him. It seemed she learned not by baby-steps, but by leaps and bounds, just as Leif had warned him.

And it wasn’t just reading. It included basic math skills, German and Spanish, plus her writing skills were way beyond what a child her age should be able to accomplish.

What next?

But Mommy, I don’t want to go! Four-year-old Bryn turned boneless and slumped to the kitchen floor trying to avoid her mother.

Eden reached down and grabbed Bryn by the arm, accidentally catching her hair at the same time and jerked her hard to her feet. You’re coming whether you like it or not young lady. And quit calling me Mommy. I’ve told you countless times to call me Eden.

Ow! I don’t want to go. I don’t want to meet your stupid friends for lunch. I want to stay here with Gretchen, whined Bryn as she rubbed her scalp where her hair had been pulled.

Believe me, I’d like to leave you here. but Nigel has some idea of a photo shoot using you. So like it or not you’re coming. I want the work and I need to stay current. It’s too easy to lose the public’s interest. I have to have this new shoot, plus it’s a big job, a wonderful opportunity for me and you’re coming with me!

Eden stood and shook her heavy golden mane of hair back over her shoulders. She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the modeling world and was often compared to a young Grace Kelly with her clean jaw line and sculpted cheekbones. Her face had graced the front of countless magazines. Today’s meeting might give her the opportunity to be a spokes model for a top perfume house out of France. How wonderful it would be to be the face associated a prestigious perfume. She wasn’t going to let Bryn ruin things for her just because she wanted to stay and bake cookies with the nanny. If Bryn ruined this opportunity for her, she’d well, she didn’t know what she’d do, but it would be ugly.

Gretchen, get her cleaned up and do something about her hair. We need to leave in a few minutes.

Yes, Miss Eden.

Gretchen moved close to Bryn, stroked her wild curly blonde hair from her face and leaned in close. Let’s get you cleaned up. This is important to your mother. Besides, the sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be home.

But Gretchen…

"Don’t ‘but Gretchen’ me, liebling. You’re going."

Eden and Bryn approached the table where Nigel and a stranger were seated. Nigel, short, paunchy and over dressed as usual, was in an expensive, flashy suit; the stranger, tall and dark, was austerely dressed in black. They were seated at a table in a crowded outdoor restaurant in a trendy section of Seattle. Beautiful glossy large potted plants in blue, yellow and white pots surrounded the patio area. A slight breeze carrying sweetly scented fresh air rippled the awning and white tablecloths. All the surrounding tables were full of in people eating nouveau cuisine, being served by white-shirted wait staff, gracefully moving through the controlled chaos, taking orders or serving food.

Stand up straight Bryn and smile, Eden hissed in an undertone as she tucked Bryn’s flyaway hair behind her ear, giving it a yank at the same time, as she pushed her toward the table. I won’t have you ruining this for me.

When Eden leaned over Bryn, a small gold medallion on a finely wrought gold chain swung free from the neckline of her blouse. It spun crazily catching the light. Bryn reached up to touch it.

Why do you always wear this? Bryn asked as she looked into Eden’s eyes.

That’s none of your business, Eden hissed as she pulled it out of Bryn’s fingers. I don’t care that it belongs to you, it’s mine. She moved to tuck in back inside her blouse.

Wait, a deep, accented voice commanded.

Eden turned toward the dark stranger. He was no longer seated at the table, but towering over her looking at the small disc. He too reached forward and grasped it with his fingers, quickly flipping it over and looking at the design carved into its face.

Where did you get this? How long have you had it? It looks very old.

Eden took a hurried, nervous step back, forcing the stranger to let go of the medallion or snap the chain. She quickly slipped it back inside her blouse, bit her lip and looked away from the dark penetrating eyes of the man standing in front of her.

Why do you care, she asked in a nervous voice. What’s it to you?

Do you know that the symbol on the disc is a triskelion? It’s also referred to by some as a triquetra. Do you have any idea what it means? Where it comes from or even of its power? The man took a predatory step toward her.

Hey, Nigel called out in his high nasal Brooklyn accented voice. What’s going on here? What’s so interesting about a necklace? Have you two already met and didn’t tell me about it? He started flapping his hands, indicating they should join him at the table.

Bryn quickly ducked behind her mother, nervous about the black eyes that moved to briefly focus on her. She knew real fear looking into the face of this scary man. It almost felt like he could see inside her head. What he didn’t know though, what her most guarded secret was, she could see into his.

Dimitri leaned down to take a closer look at her when Nigel spoke up again, distracting him. Didn’t I tell you Dimitri that this mother and daughter combination could be a hit? Aren’t they gorgeous together? All that blonde hair! Together they could sell anything. They’ll be perfect for your perfume line. He sat down and continued. Come, come, sit. I’m starving. Let’s eat then talk business.

Dimitri reluctantly sat down, but didn’t move on to business or food ordering. He looked intently at Eden, fastening his black eyes on her face. I want to know more about the necklace you’re wearing Eden. Where did you get it?

"I must have it."

Bryn heard his thoughts as she focused on him.

Eden pulled out a chair, sat, smoothed her skirt and avoided looking directly at the dark eyed man seated across from her. She yanked Bryn down to a chair beside her. I don’t remember exactly where I got it. I think I found it while doing a shoot in Ireland for Ralph Lauren. Yeah, that’s right. I found it in a little shop in a dumpy little town. There were several of them on a tray. I just happened to see them, thought it was pretty and bought one in gold. There were also silver and copper of the same design.

Bryn looked sideways at her mother knowing she was lying, listening to Eden’s thoughts.

The necklace didn’t come from a shop in Ireland. Pretty quick thinking on my part. It was bundled up with Bryn’s paperwork. I wanted it so I took it out of the safe and have been wearing it ever since and I’m not giving it to Bryn when the time comes either.

The waiter approached the table at Nigel’s wave. Dimitri gave Nigel and the waiter a scornful glance. The waiter backed away. It was obvious Dimitri had little interest at the moment in food or Nigel’s current project. He was focused solely on the necklace.

My mother had a medallion just like the one you’re wearing, he lied. It was lost years ago. I would very much like to buy the one you’re wearing Eden. I would be willing to pay whatever you wish. "If the opportunity arises I’d be prepared to use force to take it from you if necessary."

Bryn took a quick breath of surprise at his violent thought then glanced back to Eden.

Eden shifted uncomfortably under his dark intent gaze but wasn’t about to cave in. "The necklace is mine! He can find his own somewhere else. It’s not for sale. Sorry.

Nigel, unhappy with the direction of the conversation, unfolded his napkin, placed it in his lap and impatiently waved the waiter over again. We’d like to order if you don’t mind. How come it takes so long to get service here? he complained.

The waiter mentally shrugged his shoulders at the rudeness of some customers and approached with a smile on his face.

Bryn shifted her focus to Dimitri, careful not to look at him too openly. She found he was no longer interested in lunch, the perfume line or anything else, except the necklace. He was also studying her. Even though he was thinking in Russian she was surprised to find she could understand him. How amazing was that?

Who is this child? She’s very unusual looking with her riotous blonde hair and pale eyes. There’s something about her… plus the medallion. Too much of a coincidence? But there is the fact she looks somewhat like the mother. But what of the Trinite’? Could she be one of them? They haven’t been born yet have they? By our calculations it shouldn’t be for several more years. This needs to be discussed with Maxim.

What was ‘ The Trinite’ Bryn wondered, and who is Maxim?

Dimitri abruptly shoved back his chair and stood. I’ve just remembered an important appointment. I’m going to have to postpone our meeting for another time. If you’ll excuse me?

Wait, Nigel lunged to his feet. I don’t understand. This deal has been in the works for weeks. Months! We need to discuss the perfume campaign.

Dimitri rudely shrugged his shoulders and walked away, not glancing back as Nigel called after him.

Nigel dropped heavily back into his chair. What the h… um, sorry Eden. Need to watch my language with the kid here. He scrubbed his hands up and down his face in frustration. The waiter, fascinated, hovered by his right shoulder continuing to watch the scene unfold. Nigel gave him an irritated glance and waved him off. What just happened? What went wrong? I’ve been working this deal forever. It was sown up with just the formalities left. What’s the big deal about a necklace? You should’a just given it to him. Now the deal’s just shot to h… aw crap, language again, sorry. He pushed back from the table, placed a twenty-dollar bill on it, and threw down his cloth napkin, preparing to stand. Look, let’s just call it a day, okay? I don’t much feel like eating.

Eden, desperate, lunged forward and grabbed his arm. Nigel wait! You can’t just walk away from this. I want it badly. I’ve had my heart set on it. I was even willing to include the kid if that’s what it took to make this happen.

Look doll, I’m not saying the deal is dead. I just don’t know where things stand at the moment. He pulled his arm away and stood, pulling his suit coat smooth over his paunch and buttoning it. I need to contact Dimitri and see what’s going on. He took a step back as Eden shot to her feet. He held up his hands as if to hold her off. Look, I promise, I’ll call you, he called out as he turned and swiftly walked away.

The perfume deal never materialized. Nigel was unable to contact Dimitri. He left numerous messages for him, but he never returned any of his calls.

Eden kept herself apart from Bryn. Plus she didn’t need a witness as to how she spent her time and with whom. Brandon had become remote and Bryn was far too observant; too smart. The last thing Eden needed was her telling tales to Brandon about her friends. Things were difficult enough right now without Brandon asking questions.

Especially now that she’d met Curt.

Curt.

Just thinking about him made her feel breathless.

He was everything Brandon wasn’t. He was more wealthy than Brandon, had surfer-god looks; a golden tan, caramel streaked blond hair, cobalt eyes, straight white teeth and a trim build. He dressed in the latest trends for men, almost always wearing a shirt or tie that exactly matched his eyes. Better still, he was well connected with the Hollywood scene and Eden was determined to dump modeling and move into movies or TV. Curt was her ticket out, plus he told her he was wild about her.

She’d secretly met with a divorce attorney. Since the adoption, Brandon didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere without the child. Curt wanted her to come away with him, move to California and pursue the good life. He guaranteed her an entre’ into the Hollywood life. She was so tempted. She’d realized months ago, her life with Brandon wasn’t working, despite her best intentions over the last six years. She wasn’t cut out for motherhood or even marriage, at least not to Brandon.

She decided, for the fun of it, to bring Curt to the house on Bainbridge, stir the pot a bit. It was her way of thumbing her nose at sanctimonious Brandon and judgmental Gretchen. They were a couple of goodie-two-shoes. She’d pretty much decided to run off with Curt anyway and the more she thought of bringing him to the house, the more delightful it sounded. After all, what could they do?

She had nothing to lose.

Gretchen! Gretchen! Bryn called out as she sailed through the kitchen door, slamming it. You should have seen our kite. Joseph had it soaring up and down and all around like a bright orange hawk. It was amaz… Bryn paused, noticing her mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The smell of her perfume was like a toxic cloud to Bryn.

Oh, hi Eden, She mumbled looking down at the black and white tile floor.

Hello Bryn. That was quite an entrance and I see you’re a mess, as usual. You have grass stains on your pants and that hair of yours is completely out of control. You look like a giant dandelion gone to seed and your face is flushed.

Bryn ducked her head and immediately tried to tame her hair, tucking it behind her ears. Even after all this time she was still vulnerable to Eden’s caustic remarks.

I disagree, darling, a masculine voice stated. Her hair is remarkable. She’s remarkable.

Bryn’s eyes shot to the man standing behind her mother. She took a rapid step back, bumping into Gretchen, who’d quietly moved up behind her and placed her hands on Bryn’s shoulders.

Bryn looked into his blue eyes and zeroed in on his thoughts.

Amazing child. Beautiful. Unusual.

Bryn felt a shudder move through her. Whoever this was, she didn’t like him. He was creepy. She moved tighter into Gretchen’s hold.

Eden, love, you never told me how magnificent your daughter is.

Cut it out Curt. She turned to him with a scowl. She’s just a child.

What a career she could have. Just imagine.

You can just forget about that right now. I’m the one you’ve promised a career to. Eden turned to him, reached up and ran her fingers through his blond streaked hair, then lightly pulled his earlobe as she dropped her hand.

Curt, over Eden’s shoulder, kept his eyes on Bryn the entire time.

Eden stepped away and turned to Gretchen. Gretchen, be a dear and come help me pack. I’m going with Curt to California for a few days. I’m auditioning for a commercial.

Oh, but Miss Eden, Mr. Brandon’s birthday party is tomorrow night and we have a wonderful party planned. Can’t you delay your trip for a couple of days?

Oh, please, it’s not like he won’t have another birthday. Besides, it can’t be helped. The audition is already set. Eden started toward the stairs. Come along, I don’t have all day. We have a plane to catch. Oh and Bryn, be a good girl and keep ‘Uncle’ Curt company while we’re packing, she said with a laugh.

Curt stepped forward and crouched down to Bryn’s level. He got an up close look at her eyes. Wow. Phenomenal. He’d never seen anything like them, but at the moment they were scrunched up in a scowl. He thought he better break the ice, so to speak, and do what he could to charm her, because after all, he was a charming man.

Hi Bryn, my name is Curt. He reached forward to stroke back her flyaway hair. Bryn flinched and took a quick step back, then frowned at him.

Your mother and I are good friends. I think we can be good friends too. He smiled thinking he was achieving some success. Why don’t we go in the living room and talk while we wait for your mother?

Bryn shook her head.

Aw, c’mon darling. I’m a nice guy.

Bryn shook her head again and took another step away. Curt quickly reached out and caught her by the arm as she tried to evade him. He pulled her unwillingly behind him into the living room, toward the couch.

Take a seat kid, he growled.

Bryn quickly climbed up on the couch, scooting back into the corner, refusing to look directly at him. Curt leaned in close and ran the back of a knuckle down her arm in a light caress. Bryn flinched and tried to burrow deeper into the couch watching Curt from the corner of her eyes, picking up his thoughts.

Hey, don’t be so shy. I’m not going to hurt you. "At least not yet…you’re too young…" He decided he’d better make her feel a bit more at ease. Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do? Are you starting kindergarten in a few months? Your mother told me you turned five on March 20. Bet you didn’t know that’s the date of the Vernal Equinox, which I know because I dated a woman for a while that was into the Wicca religion, you know, witches. She was a real head case.

Bryn shrugged her shoulders, still refusing to look directly at him. Maybe if she ignored him he would go away. She was terrified and felt sick to her stomach.

The front door opened then slammed shut.

What’s going on here? Whose car is out front blocking the drive? Brandon called out as he walked through the entry. Bryn? Gretchen? Eden?

Bryn tried to squirm past Curt to get to her daddy, but Curt was too close and she was afraid she’d have to touch him to get by. She stayed frozen in place, watching Curt carefully. Brandon stepped into the living room and took in the situation at a glance. Clearly recognizing Bryn’s discomfort, he quickly