“You may have wondered why I was in your freshman biology class. It’s because I failed it when I took it the first time. I missed so many days, hung over. I’m on the verge of flunking out.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “And I’ve spent most of the money I had saved up.”
“You will not flunk out. And you will find a job so you can stay in school.” I tried to make my expression stern but knew I failed when Michael’s lips twisted into a smile.
“I’ll try my best,” he said.
I leaned back on his shoulder. “No, don’t just try. You know you can do it.”
He kissed the top of my head again. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve a second chance.”
“None of us do, Michael. But, thank God, we get them.”
“Amen,” Marla and Daniel said at the same time.
Epilogue
We packed a picnic basket, and Michael strapped it behind his saddle. He had made a small basket to hold our new puppy that we had named Coby. I held the basket in front of me, and we let the horses walk along, not wanting our time together to end.
We had gone over three miles when we came to a strand of trees. Michael’s horse led the way down a winding path that ended at a stream.
Michael dismounted and took the basket from me. I slid off. There was a grassy knoll, and we let the horses graze unfettered. The puppy was whining inside the basket. I unlooped the string and lifted him out. He wriggled in my arms, trying to lick my face. I inhaled the sweet smell of puppy.
Michael flapped a blanket and spread it out on the ground. I sat down, cross-legged with the puppy in my lap. He soon clambered out and ran circles around me, occasionally putting his rump up and his forelegs down to play growl at me.
Michael brought the basket and placed it on the blanket.
“Are you ready to eat?” I asked.
“No. Let’s just enjoy the peace and quiet a while.” He lay down on the blanket and put his head in my lap.
I ran my fingers through his hair, listening to the singing of the birds and the splashing of the stream.
His fingers caught mine, and he looked up at me. “When do you want to get married?”
“You have four more years of college.” I longed to be with him, but I knew we had to be sensible.
He shook his head. “If I get permission, I can take extra hours. I’ll be finished in a little over three years. I could graduate in December.”
“Really? If I did that, I should be finished with my undergraduate classes then, too. I could take my veterinarian courses after we married.” I looked at him shyly. “I mean, if you want me to.”
He sat up and took my hands in his. “Of course I want you to. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. If you want to be a veterinarian, I’ll do all I can to help you.”
“I can work, too. More jobs seem to be available lately.”
“That will mean we won’t be able to see each other as often—working, taking extra classes, plus all the homework.”
The puppy clambered in my lap and laid his head across my leg. I pulled one hand loose to rub Coby’s head. He closed his eyes and softly sighed.
“He tuckered himself out,” I said.
Michael grinned. “We might tucker ourselves out with all that work.”
“It’ll be worth it in the long run.” I tightened my hand around Michael’s. “It will, won’t it?”
He placed his palm against my cheek and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Just three years. And we’ll be together. Until death do us part.”
I shivered. The old woman’s words. What had she said? He would travel over the ocean? I shook my head. That was foolishness. Still, I had to ask.
“Michael, do you want to go anywhere else?”
“Anywhere else? What do you mean?”
“Move to another state. Maybe visit Europe.”
“Nope. I want to stay where my heart is. And my heart is right here with you. Where it will always be.” His voice was a soft whisper that sent tingles up my spine.
He gazed at me with such intensity, I felt dizzy. I shifted my position to lean against him, to lay my head on his shoulder.
He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight.
Finally, I stirred. “We’d better eat our lunch. I need to be getting back.”
“I reckon so. Your aunt and uncle will be wondering where we’re at.” Michael pulled the picnic basket to us, and we divided up its contents.
We ate our lunch and packed up. Before we left, we walked down to the stream, hand in hand. The water danced over the rocks, sparkling in the sun. Then we caught the horses and rode home. I helped Michael take the saddles off the horses before we followed the trail that ended at the cedar tree.
I found Chance’s grave and sat down beside it, the puppy in my lap.
Michael came out of the barn and dropped to the ground next to me. He plucked a stray piece of grass and shredded it into pieces. “Jay, do you want to live here after we graduate or move down home?”
“I guess it depends on what happens. If the economy improves, and we can make a go of it, I would like to move back to the farm. I would like to buy it back from Uncle Colt, if we can.”
“But you do want to stay in Alabama? Right?” His eyes sought mine.
I nodded my head. “Yes. Alabama’s my home. Either here or down home. I just wanted you to know I’ll go with you if you wanted to live somewhere else. Wherever you go, I’ll go.”
“And my people will be your people.” He grinned at me. “I was just wondering why you asked if I wanted to live anywhere else.”
I hesitated. “I asked because of what Paul’s granny told me.”
He looked at me in surprise. “Paul’s granny? What did she say?”
“I know it’s silly. She told me you would travel across the ocean.”
“She did?” He laughed. “That’s not going to happen. I plan to stay right here in Alabama.” He kissed my nose. “And marry you in December. Just wait. December, 1941 will be here before we know it.” And his lips brushed mine gently, and I was reminded of the first time we had kissed. . .
in the shadow of the cedar.
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A Note from the Abagail Eldan
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Abagail Eldan’s Biography
ABAGAIL HAS LIVED MANY places, none home until she returned to south Alabama. She lives with her husband, three dogs, and two cats near the farms where her ancestors struggled to scratch a living from the ground.
She agrees with Emily Dickinson who said, “I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it until it begins to shine.”
She also writes western historical romance, and is part of the Brokken Writers group.
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