Page 61 of Mary's Story
I looked into Frank’s eyes. “It’s perfect.”
As the hayride jostled along the winding path through the farm, the crisp autumn air filled my lungs, carrying the sweet scent of fallen leaves and wood smoke. Stars shone above as night descended. A soft breeze tugged at my scarf, and I pulled it tighter, leaning in closer to him.
Frank looked up at the sky. “Only in the darkness can you see the stars. Martin Luther King said that.” He glanced at me with adoring eyes, taking my icy fingers in his warm ones. “The darkest moments of the past few weeks is when you have shone the brightest. You’ve brought light into the dark, beautiful Mary.”
“I’m glad I could help,” I replied softly.
An amused grin crossed his face, and he squeezed my hand. “And I love how I can readily throw out nerdy quotes from history and you find it perfectly normal.”
I stared back into his warm eyes. “What’s unnatural about loving history?” I bit my lip and glanced at Duchess. It was time. “I have something to confess… we aren’t alone.”
“I don’t think the driver cares if we cuddle.” He gave me a soft smile.
“No, not him,” I sucked in a large breath. “Duchess is here.”
His eyebrows rose in shock. “My dead cat?”
Oh hex. I knew it. I sounded crazy. But I trusted Frank. Once he understood, he’d get me. “Yes. It turns out I’m a medium, and for some reason, she has been following me everywhere.”
“Are you joking?” He looked at me closely and blinked. “You’re not joking.” He turned a little pale.
Releasing his hand, I stared at him. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I felt like I should tell you.”
“You saw me turn into a werewolf, and you’re worried you’ll freak me out?” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m all the more impressed. You spoke with Isabella, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “But she’s gone now. I helped her and she’s moved on.”
His expression was full of awe. “You’re incredible.” He glanced around him. “Where is she? Duchess?”
Duchess looked at Frank, then nuzzled against his leg, purring. “Between our legs.”
He reached out, and I gripped his hand, directing it so that he was petting her head. “Hello Duchess,” he said. “Thanks for looking out for her, old girl.”
The cat purred louder in response.
Frank patted his pet and then encircled me with his arms. He urged me closer, our breaths intermingling in the frosty air. He lifted his hand and his warm fingers brushed over my cold skin. “I love you, Mary Bennet.”
My heart swelled, and I ran my fingers into his hair. “I love you, Frank Churchill.”
His lips met mine. The world seemed to disappear, leaving the two of us nestled in the hay with the sound of our kisses mingling with the whispers of the fall wind. For an instant, nothing else existed but the feeling of being completely, perfectly right here, with him.
When we pulled apart, our foreheads rested together.
“I could stay here forever,” I whispered in quiet wonder.
“Me too,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Me too.”
Surrounded by the hushed hum of the autumn evening, it was as if the universe had paused to let us betogether. And as the stars winked at us from above, we sat in the serene warmth of each other’s embrace, knowing that this moment, this feeling,would stay with us long after the ride was over.
The End