Today's Reading
She continued to study him. "I knew I'd seen you before." After a thoughtful pause, she went on. "You're certainly not the little five—year—old boy I pushed on your aunt's swing."
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"You do remember me."
She nodded.
Lost moments escaped her as she absorbed his ruggedly handsome features. In the distance, she barely noticed the two—story houses that dotted the vast landscape of Arthur, Illinois. As a ditch fire's smoke soared upward into the blue sky before gradually evaporating into the horizon, her strength began to return.
I have to get up.
He knew her. And she knew him, even though it had been years since they'd seen each other. She started to ask something but, for a quick second, forgot what it was while drifting back to blissful memories. His once cute boyish features now conveyed a confident yet humble expression. Hazy chalk—white flecks hovered behind his irises. And when he smiled, the curve of his lips softened.
Suddenly, an excruciating, sharp pain in her left wrist claimed her, and agony quickly brought her back to reality. She squeezed her eyes closed a moment to garner strength.
Without warning, he moved, swiftly wrapping his arms around her again. This time, though, his embrace was tighter, as he scooped her up into a standing position. After taking a breath, he dropped his hands to his sides and looked down at her with an endearing expression that was a sweet combination of hopefulness and uncertainty.
His attention shifted. "How are those hands?"
She held them up in front of her, and he gently took her right palm in his large one. He lightly touched different spots around her wrist. "How's that feel?"
She nodded. "Okay. A little tender, but nothing to complain about."
He smiled a little. "'Gut.'"
He warmly pressed her hand in his before guiding it to her side. Then he took her left fingers. His touch was warm and gentle. She couldn't help but wonder how such strong—looking hands could produce such tenderness. As he gently moved each finger one by one, she frowned. "I can barely move them."
Before he could say anything, she went on. "I'm not complaining," she confirmed.
His eyes lit up. As they did, the 'blau' color deepened a bit. The shade reminded her of a stormy sky on a summer afternoon and the beautiful quilt she'd recently made for a new grandson of a tourist.
"Why are you smiling at me like that?" she asked.
"Like what?"
"Like you know a secret."
"You really want to know?"
"Of course."
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
"You haven't changed a bit, Trinity."
"I go by Trini now."
He stared deeply into her eyes. To her dismay, her heart skipped a beat. She silently scolded herself for her reaction but reasoned that she was vulnerable right now. After all, a single man touching a single woman was inappropriate. But didn't these unusual circumstances warrant forgiveness? She was definitely in an awkward position. And his attention to her genuinely expressed great concern.
"I mean, those are the same autumn—brown eyes I remember. And your hair is still rusty braun. And most of all..."
"What?"
A shy smile appeared on his face.
"It's your spirit, Trini. It's still there." After clearing his throat, the volume of his voice became so soft, she could barely hear him. "I always liked that about you."
...
