by Ruth Wind
Her throat tight, she carried the letter inside and sank down onto the nearest seat. It was impossible to simply tear it open, her hands shook so terribly, and she had to wait for them to calm a bit.
Finally, she turned it over and slipped loose the glued flap to pull out a single sheet of paper.
Dear Maggie,
This is the last card I have to play. When I wrote you from prison, I couldn't afford the luxury of emotion. Now there are no such restrictions.
And I find I have no words to tell you how I feel. For days I've sought the perfect phrase—I've combed every poetry book I own, reread every passage in every love story that I know of. Nothing fits because you are unique.
So humbly, I draw.
Love, Joel.
Below, he'd sketched a radiant ball of light. Around it curled broken prison bars. In the center of the light was Maggie's face.
Maggie found him on a hill with a prairie falcon she recognized as the one that had snagged a field mouse for Joel one sunny afternoon. Since he was unaware of her, she watched him for a long time, his letter pinched between her fingers in the pocket of her skirt.
Never had the perfect balance between size and grace been more carefully achieved. Never had colors been so beautifully arranged, from the bright, clear blue of his eyes to the palette of blacks and reds that made his hair.
It was no accident that he loved these birds, these fierce and beautiful birds of prey. Like the hawk he'd mourned with Maggie in their lilac-scented backyard, he had failed to thrive away from the sight of the open sky. And like all birds of prey, he killed only in defense of his own.
As she watched, he untied the jess on the falcon's leg and moved his arm to launch the bird into the azure sky. The falcon circled, higher and higher, testing the currents of wind. Joel lifted his face to watch it, and Maggie saw his throat work with emotion.
The bird beat its powerful wings, and with an amazing display of speed, flew away. Maggie followed its flight until it disappeared, then looked up to find Joel's eyes upon her.
She climbed the hill, unabashedly letting her tears flow hot over her face, tears of joy and release. In the knee-high yellow grass at the top of the hill, she stopped. "I was wrong to judge you so harshly," she said. "I don't care what your name is." She swallowed to give her throat room for words. "I love you."
With a quick sound of joy, he swept her into a rib-crushing hug. Against her neck, he breathed, "I missed you." He pressed his lips to her neck, her jaw, her eye, finding at last her mouth, which he claimed in joy.
Maggie met his passion eagerly, feeling the light burst once again within her. Pulling away a fraction of an inch, she said, "I can't believe I considered actually letting this go."
As if the thought pained him, Joel pressed her head into his shoulder. "I was so afraid that you would, that I would have lost you." His chest expanded with a breath, and he eased his hold to look at her. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced," he said.
"You don't have to do this," Maggie protested.
"My name is Mitchell Joel Gray. Everyone but my mother and the state of Colorado has always called me Joel."
She nodded. "Joel, then." She smiled. "Samantha is going to be thrilled. She's been mad that you moved and took the cats ever since she got home."
"She's back home?"
Maggie nodded.
"That means no more making love, then."
"No. I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not. I'm in love with you, I'm grown, and sometimes sex is a part of a relationship like that."
He said nothing for a moment, measuring her. "It's also sometimes a part of marriage."
"Is that what you want?"
The dimples in his cheeks flashed deeply. "Well, I don't want to spend another seven years getting to know someone else," he joked. "Of course that's what I want," he said, suddenly sober.
"And children? More of them, I mean? Will you want to do that?"
"Do you want more children?"
The tears sprang to her eyes again. "Oh, yes, Joel. And I can't think of anything I'd like more than being your wife."
"You're sure you feel okay about my past?"
Maggie nodded. "I may still have some things to work through about that. It may not always be easy for you."
"As long as I'm with you, Maggie, I really don't care."
She laced her fingers with his as they started down the hill. "We'll tell Samantha tonight at dinner."
"I'll bring Moses and Buddy to visit."
Maggie stopped and faced him, suddenly very sure. "Bring them to stay, Joel. And bring your clothes. I don't want to ever spend a night without you again."
"I can see," he said, his neon eyes glittering, "that we aren't going to have time for a big wedding."
Maggie laughed. "No time at all."
As he wrapped her in his arms again, a hawk called in the clear blue sky. Maggie opened her eyes to watch it, feeling her heart soar in the endless depths of the sky. "I love you, Joel," she whispered, and laughed. "You, too, Mitchell Gray."
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