Glass Girl

by Kurk, Laura Anderson

  My eyes opened wide to see if he was laughing at the way I was kissing, because I didn’t think he could actually tell I was about to fall. He smiled, grabbed my face and looked into my eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh. You’re just so darn cute. I couldn’t resist. Are you okay? Do you have on flavored lip gloss? That’s new.”

  He licked his bottom lip and ran his fingers through my hair while he waited for me to speak.

  “I just got a little dizzy. Maybe I have vertigo up here.” I tried to brush off my embarrassment but my red cheeks made that impossible.

  “Are you saying I make you weak in the knees?” He looked smug as he ran the tip of his finger across my lips and put it between his lips to taste it.

  I felt another blush spreading across my face like a wildfire. “Did you hear me say that?”

  “No, but I felt you say it,” he breathed into my ear.

  “Well, you’re wrong. Try again.”

  He laughed and found my lips quickly. This time I locked my knees and held on tight around his waist. He pulled me even closer and I had to grab handfuls of his shirt to keep from going over. Everything faded away. We could’ve been standing in the middle of Manhattan with a million people around us and I wouldn’t have known it. The only thought in my head was that I didn’t want this, this moment right here, to ever end.

  “Mmm,” he sighed when he pulled away and looked at me. “How’re you feeling? Should I find a stretcher?”

  I wished with all my heart that I could say something, anything, but I couldn’t talk. I shook my head and looked down. He pulled my chin up.

  “What’s wrong, Meg?” His eyes were suddenly full of concern. “Did you not want me to kiss you?”

  “I just haven’t been this happy in so long,” I said around the lump in my throat. My eyes filled with hot tears and I willed them not to run down my cheeks. Of all the times to cry.

  He tensed his lips, wrinkled his forehead, and shook his head like he didn’t know what to say.

  “Meg, you’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known. I don’t want to share you tonight, but I’m sure they’re going to be looking for us. Do you still want to swing on the rope?”

  “I’m not sure I can hold on now.”

  He nodded, biting his bottom lip, considering something. “Yeah, you’re as clumsy as a newborn colt right now. Come on, I’ll hold you.”

  He helped me up to the next loft and pulled the rope up. “Wrap your legs around it, stand on the knot and hold on.” I held onto the rope with a death grip. He put his arms above mine, grabbed the rope, and pushed us off. I closed my eyes and smiled. We swung so fast and so far that we left my stomach up in the loft. When I felt his feet touch the loft again, I let go and fell into him.

  “I was sure you’d scream,” he laughed.

  “I would’ve if I hadn’t been so scared.”

  He looked at me for a loaded second, and then nodded his head and took a deep breath. “We’d better go.” He climbed down the ladder before me “in case I had another bout with vertigo and he needed to catch me.” I’d never live that one down.

  When we walked through the back door of Henry’s house, I felt myself getting tense again. He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him into a house that looked like an HGTV Dream House. Completely open on the inside, the kitchen, den and dining area shared a beautiful cathedral ceiling. Rough log beams ran the width of the room and from the highest point, a huge iron chandelier hung. The log walls made me feel like I was in a pioneer’s cabin, but Mrs. Whitmire had dimmed the lighting and added candles and flowers that looked more modern and comfortable.

  The Whitmire girls were all in the kitchen putting food into serving dishes and laughing together. I told Henry that I wanted to see if I could help them. He hesitated for a second like he didn’t want to let go of me. Then he nodded, and said that his mom would appreciate it. He sat down next to his dad and John near the fire. When I came into the kitchen, they all smiled. Kate handed me a large bowl, a head of lettuce and a knife.

  “Wanna make the salad?” she asked.

  “I’d love to.” I washed my hands and found a cutting board. As I chopped lettuce, I asked Henry’s mom if they’d designed their house.

  “Actually Clayton designed it the week after he met me in college. He says it was totally wishful thinking that he could ever have me and the house of his dreams, but he thought it wouldn’t hurt to try. Once we were married and he moved me here, we lived in a little old cabin over by the barn. I loved it and had no idea he was planning something like this. After he worked a few years, he’d saved up enough money to get started. He built it himself, with the help of a few contractors.”

  “Were any of your children born when you moved in?” I asked.

  “No. I was pregnant with Kate when Clayton carried me over the threshold right over there.” She paused and smiled like she was remembering a beautiful time. “I raised all four of my babies right here on this old wood floor. Henry took his first steps right about here.” She leaned down and patted the kitchen floor.

  “Yeah, he took a couple of steps and then he started running,” Kate said, grinning.

  “That’s true,” said Mrs. Whitmire. “He was fast and he got away from me at the store all the time. The funniest thing is that I think he rode a horse before he walked. Clayton says Henry cut his teeth on a saddle horn.”

  “I’m surprised he ever learned to walk with his three sisters carrying him around all the time,” said Amelia. “And pretending he was a baby doll until he went to kindergarten. Poor kid didn’t know what hit him when he went to school and had to fend for himself.”

  “And look at our little baby now, all grown up and in looooove,” laughed Leah. Henry glanced over at us and shifted uncomfortably, guessing that we were talking about him now, but unable to hear us.

  “This house holds a lot of special memories for us, Meg,” said Mrs. Whitmire. “I’m so glad you could be here tonight.”

  The doorbell rang, the door opened, and another couple walked in smiling and grabbing people to hug.

  Mrs. Whitmire looked at me to explain. “It’s our preacher and his wife. He’s been part of our lives since the kids were little. He baptized all four of my children in the freezing cold creek out front, during the summer, of course. And he married Kate and John. Come meet them.”

  She took my hand and walked me to the living room. “Robert, Joan, we’re so glad you could make it. I want you to meet a new and dear friend of ours, Meg Kavanagh.”

  Robert reached for my hand and held it. “Meg,” he said, “if the Whitmires love you, we love you.”

  Joan hugged me and smiled. “You must be pretty special if Henry Whitmire has his eye on you.”

  I stood back as they talked to everyone. Then I slipped back to the kitchen to finish the salad. Once we had everything arranged into a steaming buffet on the kitchen counter, Mrs. Whitmire signaled to her husband. He told Henry to go get the guys outside and Henry went out quietly and then came back in with six wranglers following.

  Then Mr. Whitmire spoke to the group. “Folks, this is a good night, isn’t it? I guess I’ve got pretty nearly everyone I love in this room right now and I feel like my cup runneth over. I look at the faces of my beautiful bride, my four children, and now my son-in-law and my grandson, and all of you who are our friends, and I feel downright thankful for what our good Lord has chosen to give me. I just want you all to know how I feel.”

  He seemed on the verge of tears, and Mrs. Whitmire went to him and took his hand.

  He smiled at her and continued. “So, let’s not let this special moment go by without bowing our heads to thank God for our blessings.”

  As if on cue, everyone in the room gathered in a circle and held hands. Henry took my hand and we completed the circle, as Mr. Whitmire prayed. “Our dear Father in Heaven, you are so holy and perfect and yet you choose to love all of us in this room—all of us who are filled with faults. You have made us holy in your sight wi
th the blood of your son, and because of that, we are filled with hope—hope for our future here on this earth, and especially hope for our eternal future with you in Heaven. Thank you for our loved ones and please bless us all as we walk with you. In your son’s precious name we pray, Amen.”

  An “Amen” echoed around the room.

  “All right, folks, I never miss a good chance to shut up and eat Miriam’s cooking,” said Mr. Whitmire with a twinkle in his eyes.

  The food smelled great and everyone chatted quietly while they waited in line. Amelia grabbed my hand, led me to the front of the line and handed me a plate. “You’re our guest, Meg, you go first.”

  “No,” I started to argue, but the entire line insisted I go first.

  I filled my plate with steaming hot lasagna, corn on the cob, and homemade bread with real butter. Henry waited for me next to the dining room table to pull my chair out for me and ask what I wanted to drink.

  “Oh, I’ll get it.” I started to get up and he pushed my shoulder down gently.

  “No, I’m getting it. You sit and eat.”

  “Thank you. Water would be perfect.”

  Around the table, Henry’s family laughed about old stories and memories and I thought of Wyatt. He would’ve loved the comfortable way this family shared life. Our family gatherings tended to be small, quiet, formal and quick. Henry noticed the smile on my face and he reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “If you’re done eating, we could sit by the fire. I need to throw more wood on it, anyway.”

  I thanked Mrs. Whitmire for dinner and then we headed out the back door. Henry brought two chairs close to the fire and then started adding logs. Each log he threw on sent sparks flying and the wood cracked and groaned with the flames. I felt completely relaxed.

  Henry sat, took my hand and rubbed my palm with his thumb.

  “What are you thinking, Meg?” he asked softly.

  “I’m thinking about how much I like being here, with you, and your family. And I’m thinking that I haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

  He kissed the palm of my hand and smiled. “Well, I’m thinking how much I want you to be here, and that you are safe with me.”

  I took a slow breath and focused on how good I felt right at that moment. It had been so long since I’d wanted to be in the moment instead of wishing time away. I’d hoped this would happen one day.

  “Thank you, Henry,” I whispered over the sound of the fire.

  “For what, Meg?” He turned his chair toward mine until our knees were touching and then he leaned toward me. “What exactly are you thanking me for, honey?”

  He looked so sincerely unsure that I smiled. “For reminding me what family can be like, for being kind to people, for being respectful to your parents, for holding my hand, for kissing me in the barn, for pulling my chair out for me.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “I’d do anything for you, Meg. You should know that by now.”

  “I do know that.” And, I did.

  “Is your dad expecting you back at a certain time?”

  “I told him I’d be home by ten. Why?”

  “I may regret the heck out of this,” he said, looking seriously torn between wanting to do something and knowing he probably shouldn’t. “But I want to put you on Ben with me and run him in the moonlight. It’s eight-thirty now, so we’ve got time.”

  He pulled me out of my chair before I could say anything and we walked quickly to the barn. The full moon lit the pasture like game night on a high school football field as Henry led Ben out. He’d thrown a blanket on behind the saddle and he turned to me and patted the blanket. “I’d like nothing more than to ride bareback with you, but I think it might scare you the first time. You’ve got to sit behind the saddle, so I can control Ben. You’ll have to hang on tight.”

  He made his hands into a step and I pulled myself onto Ben. Henry slid into the saddle and reached for my arms to pull them tightly around his waist. Then he clicked his tongue, and Ben walked out of the barn and into the pasture.

  I was more than a little nervous about staying on once Ben started running, and Henry sensed that. “Don’t worry, Meg. I won’t let you fall. Ben’s careful and knows exactly what I’m asking him to do.”

  Once we were outside the gate, I felt Henry’s thighs move as he tapped Ben with his heels. Ben immediately responded by trotting. Then, Henry said roughly, “Let’s go, Ben,” and he planted his heels into Ben’s sides a little harder. Ben lowered his head and flew—that’s the only way to describe it.

  Henry leaned into Ben’s neck, pulling me forward with him. We ran through the moonlight, my hair tangling behind me. The hypnotic rhythm of Ben’s hooves hitting the hard ground punctuated the silence around us. My breath caught in my throat and my mouth dropped open in surprise.

  Once I relaxed and my heart started beating again, I just felt amazed at the speed this animal was capable of. The thrill of it really couldn’t be put into words. There was a man. There was a horse. And there was speed. It’s older than time, really. I hated for it to end.

  After several amazing minutes, Henry tugged at the reins and leaned hard into me. I felt him using the strength in his back and shoulders to bring Ben under control. Ben reacted quickly and slowed to a trot. Henry turned him and headed back to the warmth of the barn. The stars were brighter here than I’d ever seen them. So many of the world’s secrets were hidden to me in the city—these stars made my heart ache with what I’d missed.

  Henry turned his head and spoke softly over his shoulder, “Well?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said when I could finally speak. “That was amazing, Henry. Ben must be the fastest horse in Wyoming. That was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever. Hands down.”

  “There was nothing better that might have happened in a barn earlier on this very night?”

  He pressed my arm tightly into his stomach and my head spun with the memory of kissing him in the barn.

  “Of course,” I said quietly. “That was the best thing I’ve ever done, hands down, without a doubt. This was not even a close second.”

  “I was hoping so.” He laughed softly and twisted his gloved fingers through mine. “I’d better get you home now. Can I drive you in my truck and then bring your Jeep to you tomorrow when we come to town for church? Think your dad would mind?”

  “He’d appreciate it, actually.”

  Once the horses were taken care of, we walked slowly to the fire. People were milling around now and putting chairs away. Henry’s mother stood bundled up with a heavy coat and a blanket around her watching her family. She reached out to hug me. “Meg, thank you for coming tonight. We’re all very taken with you. I know you’re very special to Henry. I’ve told Clayton he should ease up on Henry so he can date you properly but these ranchers never stop working. You can hang out with me anytime and we’ll miss them together.”

  “I’d like that,” I said. The rest of Henry’s family said goodnight and then we walked to his truck. He opened the driver’s side door and I slid in before him. I started to move over to the passenger side to give him room, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I was suddenly very glad his truck had a bench seat in the front.

  “We’ll need to share body heat to survive the cold,” he said convincingly, and then he dragged me into him and kissed me thoroughly, wrapping my hair in his fingers and pulling me even closer. He felt so warm; I just wanted to crawl into him. As he kissed me, I made a noise I’ve never made before and I felt his lips turn up into a smile.

  I watched him for a second and then giggled. “Did I just moan?”

  “Yes, ma’am, you surely did,” he drawled. I wished with everything that he’d kiss me again, but he put the truck in drive and we headed out to the highway. He strapped on his seatbelt and pulled mine around for me, and we drove to town in comfortable silence.

  As we
pulled into my driveway, Henry cleared his throat and turned to look at me. “Meg, would you go to church with me in the morning?”

  I sat silently for a minute, unsure of how I felt. “Um, I haven’t been since I was little.”

  He knew my current feelings about God, and it surprised me that he’d invite me to church.

  “I don’t want to pressure you, but I’d really like to have you there. It would thrill my parents, too.”

  How could I say no to that? “Sure. I’d like to go with you.”

  He glanced sideways at me and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at ten. I can drive your Jeep and ride home with my folks.”

  Then Henry squared his shoulders and took a deep breath like he’d suddenly made a hard decision. “I’d like to meet your dad. It feels really wrong that I haven’t met him yet. Should I do that tonight or tomorrow morning?”

  “He wants to meet you, too, Henry. You should come in. He’s a night owl so I know he’s still awake, probably reading. The living room light is still on.”

  He took a nervous breath, cut the engine, and we walked to the door. I stifled a giggle when I realized how nervous he was—the confident cowboy who can swagger down any hallway at school, leaving girls weak in his wake, and ride a crazy horse going forty miles an hour, was sweating an introduction to my old man.

  Dad was reading on the couch when we came through the door. He stood up, surprised to see Henry with me, but obviously happy about it. “Hello Henry, I’m Jack Kavanagh.”

  Henry reached out to shake his hand. “Mr. Kavanagh, it’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m sorry I haven’t come by to introduce myself before. There’s no excuse for that kind of rudeness.”

  “It’s no problem. I’m usually at the hotel, anyway. Would you like something to drink? Why don’t you stay a while?”