Happy Birthday to Captain Daniel Edward Mulhare Gregg!

   Susan

                   Heart of a Star

   A widow?  Saints preserve him, a WIDOW!  Aboard HIS ship!  Out of the
question.  That flea-bitten sea slug would simply have to get rid of
her, or HE would do it himself!  He had no intentions of sharing his
home with anyone, let alone a weeping, languishing, black-clad, vaporish
FEMALE!  He could picture her now: she would have a sorrowful visage,
almost sour, because her man escaped her in death.  Daniel's lip
curled.  Even if that quivering jellyfish couldn't manage it, HE
certainly would have no difficulty chasing off unwanted boarders. 
Hadn't he been doing it for one hundred years?  What else had that dolt
stammered?  A housekeeper and two small children?  Daniel dismissed them
with a wave of his hand.  Children were notorious nuisances, bothersome
pests who could be brushed away without a qualm.  Nay, he would not
allow his ship to be boarded yet again by anyone.  He still intended
Gull Cottage to be a home for retired seamen, and these feminine pirates
most certainly did not qualify!
         * * * * * * * * * *
   Hah!  He had chased her away!  Now he could return to his quiet,
peaceful ... boring? ... existence.  He blocked that thought.  Aye, he
had chased her away.  Then his jaw clenched.  Nay, he had not CHASED
her.  She had fled.  Nay, not even fled in terror.  What kind of ghost
was he to not have frightened her away?  He had been easy on her, true,
because he HAD liked some of the things she had said.  Yet she had
turned on him, after his generous offer to allow him to remain, and
demanded that either he leave or she leave!  And when he had refused to
be thrown off his very own ship, the spirited wench had taken herself
and her baggage away!  Spirited ... Daniel grimaced.  HE was the spirit,
more's the pity.  But she had spunk.  Aye, more than enough of it.  In
fact, she had rejuvenated him, made him feel alive for the first time in
one hundred years ... nay, were he to be truthful to himself, it was the
first time ever, in one hundred and forty-seven years!  He had never
truly lived before meeting her.  She was most definitely meant to be his
salvation!  He groaned aloud.  The Fates were cruel, doing this to him,
to them!
         * * * * * * *
   Was it possible he had seen her through the mists of time?  Had his
soul felt her spirit?  Had he looked into her eyes earlier that night
and known they were meant to be together, in spite of all the apparent
obstacles?  Had his soul's longing for her been so strong that he had
pulled her back to Gull Cottage the way she had accused him of doing? 
Had her obvious attraction to him, though she might deny it fiercely to
him and even to herself, pulled him forward in time so that, although he
was still a spirit, he was more alive than he ever had been in his
lifetime?  What was there to do, but wait and see?  He had all the time
in the world.  Aye, that he could do.  Wait and watch and see what would
become of these events ...
    * * * * * * *
   He had forgiven her!  He had forgiven her for selling his treasures
and most of all for cutting down his tree!  Carolyn felt almost faint
with the relief she felt.  When he finally finished ranting about women
and their vagaries, he had returned to earth, literally, and helped her
tamp down the earth around the roots of the pitiful shoot of a Monkey
Puzzle tree she had bought.
   "I must thank you, Madam.  It was very generous of you to go to such
lengths to appease me.  Of course, I should have expected no less of
you."
   "You don't know me, Captain." Carolyn couldn't help but retort,
although she wasn't sure she even believed that herself.  "How can you,
after only a few months?"
   "I know everything I need to know about you, my dear," he dropped his
voice, soft and intimate.
   Carolyn winced.  Her heart welcomed the intimacy, but her mind
refuted the joy of feeling so connected to him.  She stared at him for a
long, breathless moment, examining his features slowly and
deliberately.  His nose, his beautiful, hypnotic eyes.  The curve of his
jaw accented by his soft-looking beard.  His forehead.  His brow.  His
lips, always enticing, now lured her.  She wanted to kiss him.  That
wanting spread heat through her chest that turned to need, spread on to
her middle then settled low in her being.  She wanted him to kiss her,
to warm the doubts and fears from her heart.  She wanted him so badly,
and it was killing her slowly knowing that her innermost desire was
unattainable.  She turned away with a sigh, dragging the shovel behind
her.  "It's late." she threw over her shoulder.
   "Aye."
   "Good night, Captain."
   "Pleasant dreams, my dear."
       * * * * * * *
   Carolyn stood out on the balcony Christmas night, braving the cold,
staring at the stars.  It would soon be a new year.  What would 1969
hold for her and her family?  If only she could see the future, if only
she knew she was doing the right thing remaining here!  She felt so
vulnerable, so open to hurt, and it frightened her so much that she
could no longer trust her own instincts all the time.  If only she could
wish on a star, the way she had as a child, and make everything right
again!  In her hand, she held the popsicle stick star decoration
Jonathan had given her that morning for Christmas.
   "I recall seeing a mother in Africa holding up her newborn baby, her
face to the stars as she sang."  The Captain was suddenly beside her. 
"She was asking the stars to take the heart of her child, and to give
the child part of the heart of a star in return, for the stars have
heart in plenty.  The heart of the stars is a hunting heart, which seeks
courage and finds the nourishment which is needed for life.  We should
ask that we seek with courage and live with trust that we will find what
we need for our soul and for the well-being of the world.  You remind me
very much of that bushwoman, my dear.  Are you asking the stars for
assistance in the new year as well?"
   "I ..." Carolyn couldn't speak.  It was suddenly hard to breath, hard
to think of anything but Captain Daniel Gregg, standing so close to
her.  She wanted him, she thought, wanted him to hold her, to kiss her,
to make love to her.  Oh, there was no doubt she was crazy!  She hardly
knew him, yet there was no denying the attraction that hummed between
them whenever their eyes met.  Her every sense seemed heightened, her
every nerve attuned to his nearness.  Tingling with need, burning with
awareness, her skin came alive in his presence.  Carolyn refused to
dwell on the reason why someone ‘not alive' could make her feel so
alive!
   She leaned against the balustrade, and closed her eyes for a moment. 
The star slipped through her fingers, and she grasped at it, wanting to
catch it before it fell over the balcony into the snow drifts below.  An
unseen hand caught it up and placed it back in Carolyn's upturned palm. 
Soft as an angel's breath, tender lips pressed a kiss to the back of her
wrist.  Then the hand, and the owner, materialized closer to her, his
hand covering hers.
   Carolyn stared at the Captain's hand on hers, and felt the warmth to
the very core of her being.  "This is impossible!" she gasped.
   "So is what I'm feeling right now," he muttered, "but by the powers,
Madam, I cannot help myself!  You were under the mistletoe earlier
tonight, and now you are irresistible in the starlight, especially to
one such as I!"  Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her.
   His kiss sent every rational thought out of her mind, and left her
drowning in a tidal wave of sensation.  His lips were warm and firm, his
arms around her were strong and somehow familiar, even though that, too,
was impossible.  She moved closer and closer until her body was molded
to his.  No one had ever kissed her like this, made her feel like this. 
It was a moment that seemed to last an eternity, yet it ended all too
quickly.
   Breathless, she stared up at him.  She was thirty-three years old,
she had been married and widowed, yet he made her feel young and giddy,
like a schoolgirl with her first crush.  "More," she whispered at last. 
Once again she found herself falling into the same pool of sensation as
his lips claimed hers once again.  She was standing on the brink of a
bottomless pit.  One more kiss, one more caress, would send her
plummeting into the abyss.  No ... no, she could NOT fall in love!  She
had been there and done that; she did not intend to open herself to that
kind of hurt ever again.  With an effort, she stepped back, putting some
distance between herself and the Captain.  She took a deep breath.  He's
not real, she told herself.  NONE of this is real!  "It's late," she
stammered, mortified at the shakiness in her voice.
   "Aye," he spoke grimly.  "A century late!" and he disappeared.
   Carolyn convinced herself it had all been in her imagination.  She
could not possibly have felt him kiss her, have kissed him back!  It had
been a trick of the stars!
           * * * * * * * * * * * * *
   It was a late spring.  Easter was the latest it could be in April,
and the weather seemed unable to make up its mind.  Pansies, daffodils
and tulips had come out, only to be covered with snow.  The hardy
pansies continued to bloom bravely in spite of the adversity.  Carolyn
felt very close to the pansy.
   "I have always thought of this as the betweentimes," the Captain
said, once, "Neither one nor the other.  Not winter, not spring, not
much of anything save waiting."
   Carolyn thought about the symbolism of his words.  The last snow had
been only four days ago, and the gathering clouds suggested they might
have more.  But the in-between days were warm enough for them to have to
put up with bare earth, brown, thawing, and very muddy.  It seemed as
though, like the weather, the Captain was existing in an inbetween time
and waiting for something.  She wasn't sure spring was exactly what he
was waiting for, but everything seemed expectant these days!  The
Captain had never mentioned the kiss on the balcony on Christmas Eve,
never even alluded to it.  Carolyn must have dreamt it, and what a
sweet, memorable dream it was.  She wished she could have another dream
about kissing him.  But right now she had an article to finish.  Too bad
she didn't feel like doing ANYTHING but staring at her typewriter!  Now,
what was Jonathan coming back into the room for?  She had just asked him
to leave!  Didn't he understand English anymore?  Carolyn felt hot and
irritable.  Spring!  Rather than expectant, she felt drained.
              * * * * * * * * * * * *
   He DID love her!  She knew it!  And with his poem he had finally
admitted that she meant more to him than life itself.  Carolyn felt
dizzy with happiness.  She stood on the balcony of their room that
night, and waited for him to come to her.  She looked up at the stars
and thought about the heart of the star having courage and living with
trust that fulfilment in life would be found.  She listened to the
sounds of the ocean, and knew she was where she needed to be for her
life and her very soul.
   "I knew since I was a young lad that the sea was in my blood.  I was
always meant to be a seaman.  It is magnificent, out there." Again the
Captain was beside her, looking out to sea with her.  "The water
stretches as far as you can see, constantly changing hues of blue, green
and silver.  You taste the salt in the breeze and hear the lapping of
waves against the ship, the creak of the hull, the snap of the sails,
the screech of the gulls circling.  I would like to share with you the
ecstasy of wild ocean breezes caressing our arms and salt spray bedewing
our faces.  I would give anything to be able to hold you in my arms on
board my ship and point out the sleek silver dolphins that follow,
leaping, frolicking and chattering like playful children.  My love for
you is as free, as enormous, as eternal as the sea, my dear."
   Carolyn turned to look at him, her heart in her eyes.  "Remember what
you said a few months ago about wishing for the heart of a star,
Captain?  I read it again the other day.  Another writer, Joyce Rupp,
saw much the same thing you did in Africa.  I think I need to wish on a
star, to wish for the heart of a star, for courage to live my life. 
With you, Daniel."
   "Carolyn, we should not ... I cannot be what you think ..."  His
voice was harsh with all he was holding inside.
  "Can any of us?" she whispered.  "You're here.  I'm here.  Isn't that
enough for now?"
   His eyes didn't so much as waver from hers.  His fingers tightened,
though she scarcely felt them.  "I have gone through over a hundred
years of hell." he ground out.
   Still unsure about whether or not he was only an illusion, but
wanting to test a theory occasioned by his poem "If only ...", Carolyn
placed her hands on either side of his head, feeling the rough yet
smooth whiskers under her palms.  "I don't care about the past," she
said, "Or the future.  I don't even care if this is just another dream. 
I WILL care if I wake up before I kiss you again!  Please, Daniel, just
love me.  Today.  Now."
   Still he hesitated.  Carolyn waited in HER inbetween time.  Could
this be wrong?  Was she wrong to feel like this about Daniel, an
illusion, someone who was not alive?  She struggled against the seesaw
questions of right and wrong, wanting to ignore everything but Daniel. 
Wrong?  Quite the reverse.  His was the greatest of gifts -- the freedom
to live again, to give again, to love again. She wanted to be able to
tell him this, and perhaps would some day in the far, distant and
nebulous future, but for now ...
   "Carolyn?"
   Her name was a question, her kiss was the answer. Then she forgot
everything, everything but him.  And herself.  The past became cloudy,
insignificant, the future was forgotten.  They clung to each other,
driven by the fear of separation that always hovered, with a wild
desperation born of a yearning too long denied.  She was a writer. 
Words were her forte, yet she knew she would never find the words to
express the joy of being with him, the sense of belonging, of having
finally found what she had been searching for always.
   He knew again that he loved her with a forever kind of love.  His
soul had always been searching for hers, he had been waiting for her for
a century after his death, travelling down long, misty corridors of time
yet going nowhere.  He had been travelling in the betweentimes, between
winter and spring, for a very long time.  But wishing on the stars,
asking the stars for courage and trust, indeed, asking for the heart of
a star had seemed to make the difference, and start them moving towards
this moment.  When they had finally acknowledged their love for each
other, he realized that it was the magic of love that had brought them
together -- the magic of their love, a love that was strong enough to
defy death, strong enough to bring them together across time and
space.   Indeed, the love they shared had forever bridged the gap
between her world and his.