A foolish remark doomed my chance of romance with Jessica Saunders, and now here we were on an archeological dig in Portugal that could have been magical, but I stupidly ruined it.
Still, I wanted to help her.
I had seen two figures in her tent—even though we were alone camped beside the Coa River—and she had been weeping.
I was confused and uncertain of how to proceed and now my attempt to reach out to her caused her to be suspicious.
She seemed to become even more hardened in her attitude toward me —but then, just when I felt all was lost, the mood passed and her eyes softened.
“Do you know what a moledro is?”
“Yes,” I said, “a pile of stones—a cairn.”
She laughed harshly. “Not just a pile of stones—a sacred sculpture meant to represent a human figure.”
“Okay,” I conceded.
“Do you know the legend?”
I shook my head.
“The stones are said to be enchanted soldiers. If one is taken from the pile and placed beneath a pillow, a soldier will appear just before dawn. He’s only there for a moment—then, he turns to stone and magically returns to the pile.”
A silence like a shadow fell between us. I was afraid to speak.
“I saw him, Mark—I saw a soldier.”
“You mean, you took a rock from the cairn and put it under your pillow?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a huge sigh.
“I doubt you’d understand.”
“No? Try me.”
“It happens with every little girl, I suppose. You play games and imagine your future—who you’ll marry—and what he’ll be like.”
“It might not just be a girl thing—I’ve done that myself.”
“But for me, it was more—that’s who I wanted—and I was determined not to settle for anyone else.”
“You mean your image of this man of your dreams was so clear in your head, you could actually see him?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Wow—that’s awesome.”
“I came here several years ago. It was so lovely here—romantic and mysterious. I heard the legend and tried it—and that’s exactly what happened.”
“And the soldier who appeared to you looked the same as the man of your dreams?”
“Yes. But instead of consoling me, it made me pine for what I didn’t have and couldn’t seem to find.”
I softened toward her. “I’m sorry, Jessica—I can imagine how that must have felt.”
“Can you? It gets worse.”
“How?”
“I finally met him.”
“You met your dream man?”
“Yes.”
“Well, go on—what happened?”
“He turned out to be a disappointment—a fool.”
I began to see why she had a harsh attitude toward men.
“You have no idea what suffering I went through—having my hopes up only to se them crushed.”
“I’m so sorry, Jessica—men are such fools.”
“You are,” she said simply.
“What happened to this man you met—is there any chance you can get together?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you ever see him?”
“I do.”
“Often?”
“Almost every day.”
I sighed—at her futility—at my loss. It was a mess.
“Well, at least you got a break from him here,” I said impulsively—then, I remembered the figure in the tent.
“No, actually, he’s here too.”
I nodded. “I saw him as well—I saw two shadows in your tent the other night.”
“Then you understand,” she whispered.
“It seems impossible—but I can’t deny the evidence of my own eyes.”
“No, I suppose you can’t.”
Curiosity about the man impelled me. “What did he do or say to turn you off?”
“He didn’t treat me as special—he didn’t treasure me.”
I wanted to kill him—but I felt guilty for the way I treated her as well.
“He’s the loser,” I blurted out. “You are special—he must have been a fool.”
“You were,” she whispered and looked deeply into my eyes.