Page 73 of The Formation of Us

Before she had a chance to taste it, Duke led her across the side lawn, then pulled her behind the carriage house. He hurried them to a side street then walked her to Main. Gas streetlamps cast circles of hazy yellow light across the dusty, rutted street.

“That was exhilarating,” she said, sipping her wine to calm her racing heart.

He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist. “I had hoped to have a few more dances with you.”

‘And I had hoped to use the dance floor to show off this gorgeous dress,” she said, watching the play of light and shadow across the silk fabric of her skirt.

“Here I’d thought you wanted to dance so you could get your hands on me.”

She laughed. “That too.”

“Really?” He stopped and faced her. “Do you enjoy being with me?”

“I would think it’s obvious, but yes,” she said, her face warming as she spoke aloud the truth in her heart. “I enjoy it very much.”

“I want to talk with you in private,” he said, leading her down Eagle Street. “Do you have a blanket or towels and a lantern in the greenhouse?”

“Yes, but my anxiety is as strong as my curiosity. Why do you want those things?”

He linked his fingers with hers. “I’m taking you to a swimming hole not far from your place. Colburn dammed a section of the creek behind that building so he could manage his water supply to the gristmill. My brothers and I have been swimming there since we were boys. The mill pond makes a good spot to cool off in the summer.”

They stopped at the greenhouse, then headed across her backyard Duke carried the towels and a lantern. Faith carried their half-full wineglasses in one hand and lifted her skirt with the other. They followed the bank of the burbling feeder stream that cut through a rutted field clotted with bushy maple trees.

“If I don’t break my neck it will be a miracle,” she said.

“Just don’t spill the wine if you fall,” he replied.

She laughed and stumbled, bumping his shoulder. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

Of course not. He wouldn’t admit it if she had.

She stepped cautiously, but her ankles wobbled over every ridge and crevice in the rutted ground. “If I ruin my new shoes—”

“I’ll buy you another pair.” He clamped the towels under his elbow and transferred the lantern to that hand, allowing him to slip his free arm around her waist. “We’re almost there, but I’ll carry you if you’d like.”

“And ruin all my work on your shoulder? Not a chance. Besides, you would break your back if you tried to lift me. I’m wrapped in yards of material.”

“Careful, you’re tempting me to unwrap you.”

“And you’re tempting me to run back to my safe little greenhouse.”

They laughed quietly in the dark, the two of them sneaking away from a world that judged too harshly and asked too much. The night air was soft against her face and smelled earthy fresh in her nostrils. She liked this place already, and knew she would find her way back as soon as possible. The sound of night peepers filled the night, and she could hear the plop of a toad or frog jumping into the water as they approached a large pond.

The lantern shimmered across the water and gilded the leaves of a maple tree growing at the edge of the pond. Duke set the lantern beneath the tree and spread the towels on the grass. He dimmed the lantern until it illuminated a small circle around it.

“Look up, Faith.”

Standing, she lifted her face to a vast night sky peppered with bright glowing stars. Her tension flowed out with her breath. “I haven’t looked at the stars or watched the sunset in two months.” Sadness filled her. “How do we forget so quickly? How do we allow ourselves to get too busy to appreciate such simple things as a night sky?”

He didn’t answer. Because there wasn’t an answer. You either looked for the stars or missed them.

He stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, holding her loosely. “My dad could clap his hand on my shoulder and make me feel ten feet tall. A small gesture, but one I’ll never forget.”

In life, those were the things that mattered most—a night sky, a touch of affection, a smile of approval, all without cost but of immense value to a person’s soul. Faith finished her wine in silence, looking at the stars, listening to the rhythm of the night peepers, wishing she could enjoy this without memories and guilt weighing her down.

“My mother visited Fredonia one fall when the leaves were turning, and the smell of ripe grapes filled the air. She told me the church bells sounded like angels singing.”