Author's Note - Hello everyone, and welcome to my celebration of Valentine's Day and the Spring season all mashed up and rolled into one hot story! Before beginning, be advised that this work contains material some may find offensive, so check the tags before beginning. And just fyi, it's a bit of a slow burn. Thanks, and enjoy the story!
*
"Here, stop here, Edward!" Abigail cried out excitedly, her companion barely able to get the horses pulling their covered wagon to a halt before she leapt out and took off into the woods that bordered the crude dirt road.
"Hold on, Abby!" he called after her, hastily securing the wagon before heading after her through the trees, cursing as his clothing caught on the thick and tangled underbrush. "Abby, Abby!" He called out, but there was no reply.
A short while later Edward emerged into a large clearing in the trees flooded with midday sunlight and blanketed with strange and vividly bright wildflowers he'd never seen before. Nearby he saw Abigail, standing in what looked to be the exact center of the open space next a small sapling, her head tilted upward toward the sky, eyes closed, arms spread wide as she smiled broadly, as if privy to a fabulous secret that no one else knew. "There you are," he said, the tension draining out of him as he walked over and put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "Are you alright? You gave me quite a fright, running off like that."
Abigail lowered her arms and opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling. "I'm sorry that I worried you, Edward. But there was something about this place that was calling to me, you know?"
He nodded understandingly at this latest in a long line of eccentric behavior that most found bothersome but he found endearing. "As long as you're okay, there's no harm done," he said, patting her shoulder. "Now, let's get back to the wagon. It's barely noon, and we can cover a lot more ground before we have to stop for the night."
Abigail shook her head vigorously, causing her braided hair to slap against her neck. "There's no need," she declared in a bold, confident voice, a face-splitting grin on her face. "For we have arrived at our new home!"
"What? Here?" he asked confusedly, looking around. "I don't know. I mean, it is nice here, but chances are someone already owns it. Not to mention it's not nearly far enough from that...that...place, and those
people
for me to rest easy," he said sourly, his face looking like he'd just swallowed a swig of lemon juice.
She winced, remembering the harsh looks, the stinging insults of the mob as they drove out of their former town. But what had hurt worse than the words, even the small rocks that'd struck her arms and back, was knowing that there'd been friends and family among the rabid pack of people, casting them with just as much fervor as everyone else.
"They have already turned their minds from us, back to their own lives," she said sadly, "We do not need to worry about them anymore, since to them we no longer exist." But then the clouds faded as her jubilancy returned. "But enough of the past, let us look toward the future," she said, taking his face in her hands.
"You're right, Edward, someone does own this land, a prominent member of that small town we passed a few miles back. His name is Theodore Henson, and he's actually anxious to sell this land because he's looking to liquidate some of his real estate to take advantage a promising investment opportunity. So, if we act now, we can get a lot more land for a lot less than we would where we were originally heading."
Edward blinked rapidly, but said nothing to dispute her startling claims. After all, it'd been her warning that'd allowed them to escape their previous home relatively unscathed before the hostile townspeople really had a chance to organize against them after finding out about their secret romance. And this was a lovely spot, he had to admit, once again taking in his surroundings. "Alright," he said at last. "If this is good for you, it's good for me as well. It'll be a bit of work, clearing enough land for a farm--"
"There'll be no need for that," she said, shaking her head. "We have been guided here for a noble purpose, but it is not farming."
He gave her a wry look. "Oh, and I don't suppose you care to enlighten me as to what that is, would you?"
Abigail grinned as she cuddled against him. "Of course, my dear, but as you know there's a time and place for everything."
Edward cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? And what is now the time for?"
She clasped her hands around his neck. "Well I was thinking that before we go see Mr. Henson and closing the deal on this little piece of paradise, let's make this land truly ours by making love right here, right now," she whispered in his ear, pressing her chest against his.
"You do have the best ideas," he said as his lips met hers in a kiss, both of them tumbling to the ground amongst the wildflowers right next to the sapling, which seemed to watch over and bless their union.
*
"And so they made love, right here where we're standing now," the woman who had introduced herself as Eldress Celeste declared as she finished up her story with a dramatic flourish of her arms. "Abigail and Edward went on to build a lodge that they opened the next year in 1848, which eventually grew into The Secret Sweethearts Retreat you see here today, offering a full range of services for couples from weddings to honeymoons to weekend getaways and...counseling services for those whose hearts are drifting," she said.
"Strange," the young man named Owen Cabot said from his spot nearby.
"I assure you, every word of the story is true," Celeste replied through that impossibly serene and imperturbable countenance she'd worn since Owen had arrived here with his mother nearly an hour ago to check out the facilities and meet with their clients, the Millers, who had hired the mother and son duo as caterers for their upcoming wedding. "At least according to Abigail's writings, which we have preserved."
"No, not that, I meant this tree," he said, looking up toward the odd arboreal specimen that they were currently standing under in the Garden of Love, located on the western side of the large and impressive multipurpose complex Celeste claimed was built on the site of the original inn. Although it was far larger than the inn and had been outfitted with every modern amenity, the exterior still resembled the building Edward and Abigail had erected there over a century and a half ago. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Yeah, you're right" his mom Holly remarked beside him, admiring the unusual fuchsia bark that gleamed with an almost metallic sheen in the bright noonday sunlight, the profusion of bright red, heart-shaped flowers and similarly shaped fruits that poked out among the thick cover of bright pink foliage. "It's one of the loveliest trees I've ever seen."
"Ah, yes," Celeste murmured as she followed his gaze, smiling. "Legend has it that this is what drew Abigail to this site in the first place, and the love between her and Edward was so strong, so overflowing that it seeped into the very ground as they lay in each other's arms, their coupling infusing not the land and this tree, which was barely a sprout in their time, with the power of their affection. Thus it came to be called the Sweetheart Tree, from which our little enterprise gets its name."
"How romantic," Holly sighed wistfully, clasping her hands over her chest. "Must be nice to have someone who loves you so much they'd be willing to sacrifice everything to be with you."
Owen looked at his mom for a second, frowning, before turning to Celeste with a skeptical look. He admitted that the tree was lovely, but drew the line at such mystical nonsense. "Oh, please, it's probably just some random mutation in one of the local tree species, he said said, flicking aside a strand of his blond hair he'd inherited from his mother. "There's nothing magic about it."
"Owen!" Holly hissed, elbowing him slightly on his arm, giving him a slightly admonishing don't-blow-this look before turning back to Celeste. "You'll have to forgive my son, he's been a little jaded on love and all things associated with it since his girlfriend broke up with him a few months ago," she explained apologetically. "I mean can you believe it? The cold-hearted witch broke up with him only a few weeks before Christmas. Why, I had half a mind to track her down and--"
"Mom..." Owen interrupted, not liking his dirty laundry aired in front of strangers.
"Is that so? Celeste said, eyeing Owen as if just seeing him for the first time. "Yes, I see it now, but Owen is not the only one whose views on love may need a little mending," she remarked, gaze shifting to Holly. "However," she said, changing the subject after seeing how the mother had joined her son in suddenly looking very uncomfortable, "more than legend speaks to the specialness of this tree, such as the fact that all who have joined their hearts here have never strayed from their vows of devotion, blessed with long happy marriages and many children."
Boy, that line must be great for business,
Owen thought wryly to himself, although this time he kept his snide musings to himself. They were here to do a job, a very well-paying job, and it wouldn't due to overly antagonize the person they had to work most closely with to pull it off successfully. Instead, he decided to proceed with a completely different topic niggling at his mind.
