And the Morning Mists Shall Rise

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Lost, girl to the rescue, love at first sight. But later ..
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jfremont
jfremont
337 Followers

A sudden movement made Richard quickly snap his head around to the left, but it must have just been the wind moving a branch. Then as he turned back in the direction he was walking his face turned directly into another overhanging branch which promptly shed its load of cold water down the neck of his jacket, making him cry out a mild curse. He had at last decided he was lost. For the past two hours he had been following a continually diminishing trail through the September woods. Early that morning he had left his car parked at a trailhead and started down what more than two hundred years ago had been part of the Wilderness Road, leading pioneers from the east coast into Kentucky. Now it was a hikers' path through National Forest and across the Cumberland Gap. He had planed to spend the night in a small town about a mile off a side road and return tomorrow.

Now he had to admit he was lost. Lost and the sun had set a half hour ago. He hadn't seen a sign of any civilization for the past five hours since he had crossed the last road and now even the trail looked like it hadn't been trod for years. Sometime during the afternoon it had started to rain - a cold, wet rain - and, because only cloudy weather had been predicted, Richard wore only a light nylon jacket. Now he was cold and wet and lost and it was rapidly getting dark. At least the rain had stopped an hour ago, but now a misty fog was beginning to fill every low spot and the sky was still overcast.

He carried a daypack with a lunch, now eaten, and a water bottle. For the thousandth time he berated himself for violating every rule of hiking. He knew them, but like many hikers who later regretted it, he had decided that this time he could get away with ignoring them. It probably wouldn't be fatal. He might get pretty cold tonight but the temperature shouldn't go below the low forties. Then he remembered that most cases of hypothermia were at temperatures near fifty. Still, if he could find somewhere dry he would probably survive. But he would have to find shelter. He looked around in the hopes of seeing the lights of a town off to the side even as he realized he wouldn't be able to hike cross country in the dark in the unlikely event he should spot one. Well, it didn't matter: he didn't see any lights at all. He would just try to keep following the trail as long as there was enough light to see where to place his feet and hope to find a town or even a farm house by then.

But the way things had been going lately he was more likely to fall off a cliff or into a deep creek. Richard sighed to himself and thought about how this trip wasn't having quite the effect he had hoped.

Richard was a stock broker. Not a big Wall Street broker, but a moderately successful broker working out of Norfolk. He was twenty-eight and determined to be worth a million before he was thirty. If he wasn't, it wouldn't be for lack of trying. Fourteen hour days were not unusual for him. Of course, he didn't spend all of that buying and selling. After all the market was only open limited hours. But to know what to buy and sell he had to spend many, many hours going over company reports and evaluations of financial positions. When he had started this six years ago, he was so full of energy and determination that he never noticed the load. Now it was habit. It was a habit that had given him a net worth of over eight hundred thousand but had cost him. It had cost him elevated blood pressure. It had cost him vacations never taken, trips never made. It had cost him a fiancee.

He had met Brenda a year ago when he ducked into an all night diner for some late supper after one of the days when he had worked until ten at night. She came through the door ten seconds after him and somehow they had started talking and ended up eating together. She was a new high school teacher - French and Spanish - and had been in town less than a week. In fact the reason she was in the diner was that she had been unpacking stuff in her apartment all day and had nothing to cook as yet. Over the next few months they had gone out more and more frequently until in May he had given her a ring. Then somewhere in the next few months - Richard couldn't even tell exactly when - things had started to go wrong. His more and more frequent last minute calls to cancel a date because he had to work late began to take their toll. He also became slightly - maybe not irritated, but at least uncomfortable - with her lack of what he thought of as ambition. Brenda had no long term goal except to continue teaching. He thought she should aim to found her own school or become an education consultant or something. Bit by bit, one small irritant at a time, their relationship wore until three weeks ago she had returned the ring and they had called everything off.

Within the same week one of the larger deals Richard had been putting together fell through and not only did he miss out on an expected large commission but also a hundred thousand profit of his own. Actually he had lost nearly fifteen thousand of his own money. His boss at the brokerage firm was not overly pleased and Richard was almost certain he would lose out on an expected promotion and bonus this year.

Overall, things had not been going well lately.

When he thought back to his college days he remembered that all he had really been interested in doing was writing fiction. But when he graduated he needed to make a living and, through a combination of luck and hard work, he had ended up in the brokerage field. He found he had a flare for it and soon it consumed him while his writing ambitions moved more and more into some distant future. Now he wondered why. He had decided to take this weekend off and try to relax a little, forget about work and Brenda. Instead he seemed to have screwed this up, too. Cold water ran down his back again and he could also feel dampness start to leak through his boots.

Twenty minutes later he could barely see the trail at all and it had started to rain again. This time it seemed even colder and he believed a cold front had moved east from the bluegrass into the mountains. Without seeing it, he walked directly into another branch and received another shower of cold liquid and realized he was already shivering hard. How could he have missed the trail? He had no idea. He hadn't seen even a side trail or any other kind of junction for hours. He was about to give up and try to find some shelter under some overhanging rocks or maybe against a tree trunk beside the trail when he rounded a corner and thought he saw a glimmer of light through the trees off to his right. He cautiously moved ahead and the light became a little brighter.

The trail had become more of a semi-overgrown rut with small saplings growing across what once must have been a road ten feet wide but was now just discernable among the larger trees on either side. As the light strengthened he saw what looked to be another overgrown path splitting off to the right and leading in the direction of the yellow illumination. Richard wasn't sure what the light was but it was almost certainly better than a cold wet night huddled against a dripping tree trunk, so he turned towards it. In another few yards the light resolved itself into a yellow spot in the window of a cabin. As he approached he saw that the cabin was a small log affair and the light was a single candle inside.

Thankfully he made his way up to the door and knocked calling out, "Hello. Anyone there?"

He heard a sudden movement inside and the candle shifted, changing shadows flowing across the walls. In a few seconds the door opened and inside Richard saw a young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty or so, holding the candle. She was about five foot two, eight inches shorter than Richard's five ten. Her hair was a dark honey blonde - or so it looked in the candle light - and, tied back with a yellow ribbon, reached well below her shoulders. She was wearing an ankle length dress, old fashioned in appearance and simple in style, a light brown color.

Richard was shivering so hard he could hardly speak and tried to explain what he was doing there. "Well, come on in out of the rain," the woman said, standing back. Her accent sounded a lot like the local Tennessee-Kentucky, but with a slight lilt which might have had some Irish influence. She didn't seem afraid or even startled to see Richard appear at her door.

Gratefully Richard shook off what water he could and came inside. Looking around he saw one room, about ten by eighteen. There was a table and four chairs at one end and another two chairs, somewhat larger and more comfortable, in the center facing a stone fireplace. Richard's attention was immediately drawn here where a healthy fire blazed. He made his way over to stand shivering in front of the blaze before even noticing any of the rest of the room. With his teeth still chattering he looked around and saw there was another small doorway which probably led to a bedroom.

The woman set the candle on a small side table which was next to one of the fireplace chairs and, looking Richard frankly up and down, said, "Looks like you got caught out in the rain. I've seen drowned rabbits that looked a mite dryer," but her smile took any malice from the comment.

Still shaking Richard tried to explain. "I guess I lost the trail. I didn't think it was going to rain and I expected to get into to town before dark. I don't even know where I am. How far is town anyway?"

The woman smiled at him. "It's a long piece off," she replied. "You won't be getting there tonight. But you're welcome to stay here. I'm Katie Branden."

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Richard Boone."

"Any relation to Dan'l?" the woman asked with a smile.

Richard laughed. "If I were, would I be lost?"

The woman joined his laughter and shook her head. "Daddy used to say that Dan'l was lost most of the time but he just said he was 'explorin'. Look you'd better get out of those clothes before you catch your death." Richard started to say something, but she went on, "I think I can find something you can put on around here." She looked him up and down again. "You're a pretty big one," she added, almost to herself.

She went back into the bedroom, if that's what it was, and while she was rummaging around Richard looked around the room. Not only were there no electric lights there didn't appear to be anything even the least bit modern. Even the furniture looked homemade. He almost began to wonder if this was one of the displays in a pioneer village, but it was nearly three weeks after Labor Day and anything like that would have been closed. Besides he hadn't seen any other buildings and the trail had been nearly overgrown.

The woman returned with a pair of pants and a white shirt. The pants were wool and the shirt looked and felt like course linen. She handed him the clothes along with a course towel. "These were Daddy's," she said. He was a mite smaller than you, but I think they'll fit. I'll just go back in the other room while you get out of those wet things. Call out when you're ready."

Richard took off his jacket and shirt and used the towel to dry himself. He put on the dry shirt and then took off his sodden pants. He hesitated a second and then also removed his wet underwear, dried his legs, and put on the wool pants. He called out and was removing his wet socks when the girl came back into the room.

"Thank you. That feels a lot better already."

"You're welcome. I'll bet with that rain you haven't had anything to eat tonight, have you?" Richard admitted he hadn't. "Well, I've got some stew left on the hearth. You're welcome to it."

It wasn't until then that Richard noticed the only cooking facility in the cabin was the fireplace. Here an iron pot hung in the front, out of the fire but close enough to keep warm. "Thank you again."

The woman brought him a heavy plate and a spoon and then ladled stew onto the plate. She placed a mug of water next to it.

As he ate, Richard looked around the cabin. "Are you up here by yourself?" he asked.

She seemed to hesitate and then answered, "Now. Been here since I was seven. Daddy and Mama used to live here but they got themselves killed on a trip to Lexington a couple of years ago."

"I'm sorry," Richard answered.

"That's all right. I'm used to it now. Used to be a couple of neighbors, too, but they up and moved off last year. Where are you from?"

"I live in Norfolk, over in Virginia. I was hiking along the trail and planned to start home day after tomorrow."

"Norfolk. That's a fair piece. I haven't been there since I was a little girl. I expect it's a pretty big town by now."

"It is pretty good sized. Not as big as a lot of the cities on the coast, but certainly not small."

The woman cleared away the plate and mug and returned to sit in the chair by the fire. She had a small notebook in which she was writing using an old fashioned pen and inkwell. When Richard looked at it questioningly she said simply, "My journal." Richard nodded and let her return to her writing. After some time, Richard yawned, and the girl looked up and said, "I expect you're pretty tired. Let me get you some blankets and you can bed down out here."

She disappeared into the other room again and returned in a minute with several heavy woolen blankets. She dumped them on the floor a few feet from the fireplace and said, "It isn't a featherbed, but you should be warm and dry."

"It's more than enough," Richard said. "I can't thank you enough."

"Maybe I'll think of some way you can," she said cryptically, a strange smile on her face.

The woman did something to the fire, probably banking it for the night, picked up the candle and moved back into the second room, leaving the main room lit only by the flickering firelight. Richard realized he was nearly asleep just standing there. Somewhere back in his mind he understood this was his body's reaction to the stress of the cold and wet, but that didn't matter. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

He quickly spread a couple of the folded blankets on the floor a few feet from the fire and lay down, pulling another blanket over him. He was asleep before he took a second breath.

Richard suddenly blinked his eyes open. The room was totally dark except for some glowing coals in the fireplace. It took a few seconds for him to remember where he was - at least in general since he still didn't know exactly - but then it all came flooding back. He guessed he must have been asleep for three or four hours and looked around to see what might have awakened him.

He didn't see or hear anything unusual until he looked over towards the one window. The world outside was brightly lit. The rain had stopped and evidently the overcast had also cleared for now brilliant moonlight turned the world outside a magic silver. He stood up and started towards the window. The cabin was slightly cool now that the fire had died and he wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders as he moved over and stood staring out through the old and slightly wavy glass.

It was a fairy world. Light from the full harvest moon cast shadows everywhere. Silver glinted off of wet leaves and changed to inky blackness below or behind an interfering trunk. And a fog had started in the low places. Or maybe it had started elsewhere, but now it flowed down and filled the hollows. He could see it top low rises and slide down hills into depressions, swirl around stumps, and fill the low places in the road. A magic world of silver light, inky shadows, and silent gray mists.

A sudden low noise startled him and he spun around to peer into the cabin room. His eyes, now used to the bright moonlight, took some seconds before he could make out anything in the room. Then he saw Katie. She was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching him. She was dressed in an ankle length nightgown which looked white in the reflected light within the room but could have been any light color. Her hair was loose and hanging down her back and all he could see of her face was reflected points of light from her eyes and the ghost of a mouth.

Silently, on bare feet, she walked over and joined him at the window, stopping to stare through it at the haunting world outside. He turned to stand next to her, also looking out. He wanted to say something but could not think of a single word that seemed proper. For perhaps a minute they stood side by side, watching the slowly moving mists, and then Katie said in an almost ghostly voice, "Moonlight silvers the land; The trees, the streams, the lovers there."

The strange words sent shivers up Richard's spine. "What was that?" he asked.

Katie shook her head slightly. She smiled and looked at him. "It's just part of something I wrote. Something to describe nights like this."

Richard looked back at her intently. "I'd like to hear the rest of it."

Katie shook her head. "There's only two verses so far. Goes like this.

Moonlight silvers the land;

The trees, the streams, the lovers there.

Playing the trees with shadows

Turning the streams to silver

Changing the lovers to gold.

Then fog slides down the mountain

Covering the low ground, the streams, the lovers.

Filling the valleys

Filling the hollows

Filling the lovers' souls."

For a few seconds Richard held his breath. Goose bumps covered his arms and he knew it wasn't from the cold. "That's lovely. Someday I'd like to hear the rest of it."

"Someday maybe I'll know the rest of it." She turned towards him. "Hold me, Richard. I'm cold."

Surprised at this unexpected turn of circumstances, Richard was slow to react as Katie pressed herself against him and it was several seconds before his arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, enclosing them both in the blanket. Katie put her head against the hollow of his shoulder and Richard stood still, his hands on her back. He could feel her shivering under the linen of the nightgown. He was also very aware that he could feel the firmness of her breasts against his chest and the press of the taut curves of her hips and thighs against his legs. He tried to pull back slightly before his own beginning arousal became evident to her, but she grasped him with surprising strength, holding him tightly to her.

For a couple of minutes they stood like that and he could feel her shivering begin to subside. His hands, of their own accord, began to gently stroke her shoulders and down her back. Katie sighed and lifted a hand to gently stroke down the side of his face. She turned her face up to his and caught his eyes with her own. "Kiss me, Richard."

Richard wasn't sure but that maybe he was still asleep, lost in some strange dream. That wouldn't be unusual after the stress of the past day added on top of the stress of the past months. But it wasn't a dream. It was a strange and dreamlike world, all right, but the woman in his arms was definitely real. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it or maybe even feel it. This impression was reenforced as she began to work her hand inside his shirt and placed it over his heart, it's warmth seeming to burn a lasting imprint.

He didn't even know this girl, had met her only a few hours ago. Still, he could swear she was not the type who made a come on play for any man, known or not. His mind churned with questions even as his lips moved to grant her request. She lifted her face to him and he lowered his to meet hers until their lips brushed together. He had expected a warm, but chase, kiss, perhaps even a hard one, but no more. Instead his mind shook as their lips pressed together and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue probing hard against his own lips until he, too, opened and let his tongue begin a joint exploration.

jfremont
jfremont
337 Followers