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California, 1846

He was never co back The war had taken him from her She felt it, felt his death in the eone The Americans had killed him—or perhaps his own need to prove hied cliffs above the churning Pacific, she knew she had lost him

Mist swirled around her, but she didn't draw her cloak close The cold she felt was in the blood, in the bone It could never be vanquished

Her love was gone, though she had prayed, though she had spent countless hours on her knees begging the Virgin Mother to intercede, to protect her Felipe after he had ht the Americans who so badly wanted California

He had fallen in Santa Fe Theas killed in battle, cut down as he fought to keep the town out of American hands His body had been buried there, so far away She would never, never look on his face again, hear his voice, share his dreams

She had not done as Felipe had asked She had not sailed back to Spain to wait until California was safe again Instead, she had hidden her dowry, the gold that would have helped to build their life together—the life they had dreaht days here on these cliffs Her father would have given her to Felipe when he came back a hero So Felipe had said as he kissed the tears from her cheeks They would build a beautiful hoarden He had proin

Noas lost

Perhaps it was because she had been selfish She had wanted to stay near Monterey and not put an ocean between theift, afraid they would take it as they had taken so much else

Now they had taken everything that rieved, afraid it was her sin that took Felipe from her She had lied to her father to steal those hours with her love She had given herself before the , she thought, as she bowed her head against the vicious slap of the wind, she could not repent of her sins Would not repent them

There were no dreams left to her No hope No love God had taken Felipe froainst a lifetime of belief, she lifted her head and cursed God

And jumped

One hundred thirty years later, the cliffs were drenched in the golden light of su white breasts to the deep blue water before wheeling off with long, echoing cries Flowers, sturdy and strong despite their fragile petals, pushed their way through hard ground, struggled toward the sun through thin cracks of rock, and turned the harsh into the fanciful The as as soft as a stroke from a lover's hand Overhead, the sky was the perfect blue of dreams

Three young girls sat on the cliffs, pondering the story and the sea It was a legend they kneell, and each had her own personal i moments

For Laura Teure, her face ith tears, so alone on that ept height, with a single wildflower clutched in her hand as she fell