Read Fighting for the Edge Online
Authors: Jennifer Comeaux
Fighting for the Edge (36 page)
“I had no idea we were in for a storm,” said Abel as they scurried down the path toward the parking lot. “I hope it’s not going to be a bad one.”
Catherine grabbed his hand. “As long as there are no tornadoes, I’ll be fine. I don’t ever want to see one of those again.”
“You saw a tornado?” Abel asked.
Catherine nodded as rain began to pelt down. Abel didn’t know the story about the tornado at college years ago, she’d have to tell him about it sometime. But there was nearly a mile to walk before they reached the pickup, and it was obvious they weren’t going to make it. No time for stories.
Soon the rain was coming down in sheets.
“Over there,” Abel said, and pulled Catherine into the woods toward the base of a huge fallen tree. He led her into a cave-like enclosure left by the uprooted tree and they huddled in the roots together as the storm broke. Branches waved crazily in the wind just beyond them. And water fell in a gray torrent. Occasionally the rain would blow in and mist her face, but sitting there, huddling next to Abel, even soaked and slightly chilly, she felt wonderful. She watched Abel’s eyes as he stared out at the storm, watching them turn from gray to green to a golden color when lighting flashed across the sky. He brushed a wad of sodden hair out of his face and sighed, staring ahead and clutching her hand.
At last he looked at her rather sadly.
“I’m sorry I got you into this,” he said. “I should have paid attention to the weather forecast.” He looked back out at the storm and shook his head. “This was a crazy idea anyway, wasn’t it? You’re just too polite to tell me.”
“Abel?” Catherine said.
He arched an eyebrow and glanced at her briefly as Catherine pressed closer to him. “Yes?”
“You have green paint by your nose.”
He smiled, looked at her, and looked away again. He was so shy, and so sweet and so adorable that Catherine couldn’t help herself.
“Abel?”
“Y-e-s-s…” he said again.
“Look at me.”
He did, a puzzled look on his face.
After three years, they’d kissed before. Many times. But nothing like what Catherine laid on him now. She took his face in her hands and pulled him tightly against her, her lips meshing against his with urgency. Somewhat surprised at first, Abel quickly abandoned all hesitancy and responded with a hunger that took Catherine’s breath away. His arms wrapped around her, strong and tight and so very real, so very
there.
“Catherine,” he whispered between kisses, “I wish you had some idea of how much I love you. Because you have no idea. I could never explain it. I could never write it. I could never even paint it.”
“You could prove it,” Catherine mumbled.
“I’m not sure I could. It’s too deep. It’s too incomprehensible.”
Catherine pulled her head back a bit and searched his eyes.
“I feel the same way.”
Ask me!
said the little voice in Catherine’s mind. They continued to kiss and hug as thunder rippled across the sky, as a wet breeze ruffled their faces, as the scent of rain and bark and damp earth filled their senses.
Catherine drew back again, once more searching his eyes.
Ask me!
her mind implored.
“Catherine,” he whispered, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I could live without you. I don’t think I could bear it.”
Catherine, crouched as she was, practically stood in her shoes.
Ask me!
“Catherine…”
“Yes?”
He paused, dropping his eyes for an instant.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. “I’m too clumsy. I… I… Catherine…”
The words spilled out of Catherine’s mouth. “Marry me!”
Abel’s eyes rounded. His embrace loosened the tiniest bit.
“Just marry me,” Catherine repeated, unafraid, tears filling her eyes.
Abel released her. He cupped his hands around her face, gazed at her in a form of unspeakable wonder.
“You would marry me?”
Catherine nodded.
“But I don’t have the ring… I mean, I
do
have a ring, but not with me,” Abel stammered. “This is so unexpected, but so wonderful. I… I…”
“I don’t need a ring,” Catherine said, smiling. “I don’t need anything but you.”
He shook his head. “No — you do. You need something, a symbol, something. I have to do this right.”
With that, Abel grinned, and with tears in his own eyes, poked around in the plastic bag that had carried the balls. He pulled out one final ball, and presented her with a glowing yellow superball about the size of a plum.
He held it toward her like a priceless jewel. “Catherine — will you marry me?”
Catherine gently took the ball from his outstretched hand. The world seemed to revolve around them alone, and it felt as though nothing could ever go wrong again.
“Yes. I will marry you,” she said.
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