1972
“You actually remember all that?”
She giggled. “Of course. That was the best night’s sleep I ever had.”
They were lying on the floor of the ranch house’s small living room, watching the fire reduce itself to embers that pulsed with a deep crimson glow. She pulled the wool blanket a little tighter around her shoulders. Mike slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer; she could feel the steady beat of his heart and his soft breathing on the back of her neck—all things to which she had become accustomed, yet couldn’t help but notice.
“The best? Really?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have any dreams—good or bad—and when I woke up I was rested . . . and best of all, you were still there beside me.”
His next question took her quite by surprise. “If . . . I’d fallen . . . would you have let me go?”
“What?”
“When I was walkin’ across that tree and fell, you leaped out like you were gonna catch me. If you’d had to . . . would you have let me go?”
There was only the slightest hesitation as she licked her dry lips. “No.”
“So you would have fallen with me?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have let you go then, and I won’t let you go now.”
He pulled her close. “Me neither.”
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