Page 119 of Authentically, Izzy
“I can practically see your mind conjuring up all sorts of imaginings.” They began a descent toward the port. “Well, then, legend has itthat there were three priests who were brothers, both in the biological sense and the spiritual sense, and all three had talents and interests in architecture. Each came to Skymar and wanted to make their mark on the people here, so the eldest two, who were considered the greater of the talents, built their own churches on separate points of the island of Ansling. Fearnrose was completed first by the eldest of the three. The second eldest built Kilnen Abbey just north near the town of Elri, a bit smaller than his elder brother’s edifice.”
“Why am I havingGoldilocks and the Three Bearsvibes?”
His laugh burst out. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not aware of a Goldilocks in this story; however, the youngest brother did assist both of his elder brothers in their endeavors, but they discouraged him from taking his somewhat unique views of architecture into developing his own place of worship.”
“But of course he didn’t adhere to their suggestions.”
“Of course not.” Brodie raised a brow. “Though he was the quietest of the three and spent many years supporting his brothers’ endeavors, he had a burning desire to create something with his own skills. To give, as he saw it, of his own talents, so he chose an unlikely island for his plan.”
Her expression must have shown her confusion, because he chuckled. “Yes, all of Skymar is made up of islands, but the youngest brother built on an islet known as Skree, which is just across a land bridge from Port Quinnick.” He pointed out the window toward the ocean and in the distance Izzy could make out the faintest hint of a small land mass among the fog.
“There he built his own offering to God through architecture. An odd sort of creation, and somewhat ignored by his brothers, but beautiful in its own way and quite providential to the future of Port Quinnick.”
Izzy squinted to make out the mass in the distance, but all she noticed were rocky mounds and a plethora of trees.
“When Vikings came to the island of Ansling a thousand years ago, they ransacked villages and cities and destroyed churches, but they didn’t burn the Kirk of Skree because they didn’t know it was there. Thousands of people crossed to the island and hid within the church, which was built of the very rocks on which it hid. And thanks to the forward-thinking of the youngest brother, Elerk, who had cultivated gardens and a self-sufficient water system, the people who fled to Skree survived in hiding without the persecution and devastation of those who remained inland.”
“What a remarkable story.”
“Indeed, and it so happened that Elerk the Younger met Katarine during his hiding, which led to a marriage and eventually, through that bloodline, the first king of Skymar, who led Skymar in its independence and to the prosperity you see today.”
The ocean disappeared behind the city buildings of Port Quinnick and Izzy sighed, nestling farther into her seat. “So that’s the ruin you’ve been hinting for me to investigate while you're in meetings this afternoon?”
He shrugged. “I imagine you will have plenty to investigate with the history of Port Quinnick and all of its marvelous shops, but I’d advise you not to miss Kirk of Skree while you’re here.”
“How can I not visit it! My curiosity is sufficiently piqued.”
“My grandfather always loved the story of Elerk the Younger because Grandfather was the youngest of three boys, and when he’d tell the story, he’d always add at the end”—Brodie furrowed his brow and dipped his chin, lowering his voice into a gravely imitation—“Brodie, my boy, remember Elerk and his story. It’s about taking what you have within you, what God-given gifts you already possess, and falling in love with them. Making them work for your future. Uniquely. That’s how you make your life worth living, for yourself and others.”
Sneaky man. “Did you make this story up?”
“Of course not!” His brows shot high. “You doubt me?”
“I doubt your very convenient moral of the story.”
His eyes rounded in pure innocence. “It’s true through and through. You can ask Mum, though I may have added a few convenient parallels for your benefit.”
“So your next occupation is historical fiction, then?”
He chuckled. “Only if you’ll help me write it.”
She quieted a moment, allowing his words to take residence around her doubts. She’d felt it. The joy of using her gifts to create something beautiful and useful... and to touch other lives in the process. The past two days had proven it all the more. “That’s what you’ve done, isn’t it? With Sutherland’s. You’ve found where you belong. Who you are.”
He brought the car to a stop on the side of the street, trees and street lamps interspersed among stone, brick, and a very few glass-and-steel combinations of a newer business variety, but even those somehow were worked into the picturesque display of the rest of the city.
He turned to her. “In part, yes. I find great satisfaction in living in this book world and all it encompasses.” He searched her face. “But I hadn’t really felt complete in my story, if you will, until I traveled to a little town in North Carolina and met a certain bookish beauty.”
“That line was wonderfully executed.” She leaned forward, drawn by the tenderness in his expression.
“And genuinely felt,” he whispered as he touched his lips to hers.
Aye, her heart sighed. She breathed in the pine and spice and everything nice that Brodie Sutherland offered her. The decision she’d have to make to pursue a future with him, a long-term future, quaked through her with torrential force. She’d never been the risky sort, except in reading choices. She’d never considered herself brave or adventurous or daring, but a life with Brodie required some entirely nonfictional courage. And she’d been practicing courage lately.
For the first time since giving her heart away in high school to aguy who only wanted her for her literature smarts, she completely and unreservedly released hold to Brodie Sutherland. In fact, she loved his world too. And it didn't take too much imagination to see herself living and working alongside him in his bookishness till death do they part. But even if it meant a life on the other side of the ocean from home?
She squeezed her eyes closed as his arm came up around her shoulder.
Yes. She could be brave enough for something like that.
