Bluegrass Blush

by Carolyn Bond

  The train lurched forward and soon Everleigh watched the forest fly past in a blur of green and black occasionally opening to a meadow where a small farmhouse would come into view. At one house children squealed and jumped and waved as they went past. Mr. Steel had made himself scarce by staying in the engine for most of the ride. Everleigh wondered if he had become annoyed with her. After her behavior getting on the train, she had no doubt that he wanted nothing to do with her. She could not see him from her seat as the tinder was too high.

  She chided herself for acting so silly. She was not a ditzy little girl. What was wrong with her, she wondered? One thing she knew, no man had ever looked at her with that yearning in his eyes. Obviously this body helped in that regard. She didn’t have a great deal of experience when it came to men. Maybe the first pretty face that paid attention to her had sent her reeling.

  She thought back to Luke. They had been a couple for a year in college. Of course she was younger and thinner then. Still a bit dowdy but she enjoyed sorority life even if mostly it was to live vicariously through her sorority sister’s stories. Luke was cute with an average build. He seemed infatuated with her at first but as time went on and she got clingy, he pulled away. Finally he just cut ties with her and moved on. She had been crushed for months. He was her first love. How could he just walk away? Wasn’t love supposed to last forever?

  A dirt road followed the train for a while before disappearing around a bend. She wondered about the people who lived in the houses out here. How hard must their life be in 1888 with no electricity and no phones?

  Her mind drifted back to Luke. After he left her, she didn’t look at guys for a long time. It hurt too much. She felt like she had put all of herself in that relationship and he just threw her away. If that was dating, she wanted no part of it. Still, she always wished for that perfect love. Perfect love - even thinking it sounded crazy. She knew there was nothing perfect about relationships. That’s where she couldn’t make sense of it. She wanted perfect love but knew logically there was no such thing except love from God.

  Chasing that never ending argument had not gotten her anywhere and she focused on pleasing herself. She ate what pleased her, did as she pleased, and vacationed where she wanted to without ever having to think about anyone else. For a long time that fulfilled her, or so she thought. Then she turned thirty and reality sank in. She was still alone and youth was fading away. The woman she saw in the mirror didn’t match the free spirit inside her. How would she ever find the impossible perfect love now? How did her friends seem to find it so easily?

  The train slowed and as it curved around a bend of trees, a white inn came into view. It had a large front porch and seemed to invite you in with a whisper of secrets hidden below the grassy meadow in front of it. With a lurch forward as the brake was applied, she took looked around for Mr. Steel. He bolted up the up the steps and into the passenger car ready to escort them to their destination.

  Mr. Clark picked up his bag and Mr. Steel picked him his and Everleigh’s. The men descended first and set the bags down to help Everleigh and Suzanne depart the passenger car. Mr. Steel took her hand rather than lift her down. Everleigh brushed her long skirt with her hands to smooth out the wrinkles before the crowd of passengers made their way to the inn. She marveled at how different it would look her in 2016. The inn would be completely gone and replaced by a plain one-story brick lodge and motel-like structure. A visitor center with post-modern lines and beautiful rock walls would house a museum, gift shop and rangers information booth. Millions of people would file in year after year to be led on tours into the earth.

  There were no rangers here now. There were no rangers. The Park Service had not been created. Mammoth Cave was not a National Park. It was a fascinating site owned by a private individual. Now that she thought about it, the 414 miles of cave had not even been fully discovered. At this time, they probably had very little of the cave mapped out.

  On the porch stood an old black man wearing dusty pants, a shirt, and brown coat. He had a short beard and a kind face under a round black hat. He was short and stout. His solemn eyes searched the group, taking them all in. He seemed neither eager nor annoyed they were there. In fact he looked us over as if we were the spectacle on display rather than the cave. He leaned on a cane and Everleigh wondered how such an old fella was going to make it on the tour.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, changing his gaze to a place past them up in the meadow, “my name is Nick Bransford. Welcome to Mammoth Cave. I will be your guide. I have lived here since 1838 and I know this cave, what we know of it, like the back of my hand. You have no need to fear. We will be perfectly safe as long as you follow my instructions. You ladies can speak to the matron of the inn about what to wear so that you have an easier time.”

  Suzanne looked at me with a concerned glance.

  “Dinner will be served soon in the lodge after you have settled in. We will leave on our tour first thing after breakfast in the morning. There will be a late picnic lunch afterward and then the train will take you back to Glasgow Junction. I hope you enjoy your stay and find the cave as majestic as I do. After dinner, I will be available on the porch for your questions.”

  With that he smiled a slightly staged expression, then turned and strode down the stairs and started around the side of the inn.

  “Odd man, wouldn’t you say, Everleigh?” Suzanne puckered her lips as she stared toward the back corner of the inn.

  Everleigh sighed. “I suppose. He just seems like he cares for the cave a great deal and we are strangers.”

  “I suppose. It is good to have an experienced guide. I certainly don’t wish to be lost underground.”

  Suzanne picked up her long skirt a few inches to step up onto the porch.

  ***

  Mr. Steel was nowhere to be found at dinner. Everleigh knew it had to be her fault. Obviously she had made him uncomfortable and now he was just trying to stay clear and get this trip over with. Looking for a breeze to cool the stuffy July air, she excused herself to go out on the porch. The quiet night gave way to a rush of natural sounds. Wind rustled the tree leaves with a sound not unlike the rush of a waterfall. An owl hooted in the darkness. Above, the Milky Way pulled together a million glittering points of light in a hazy frozen river.

  The air lifted the fallen tendrils on the back of her neck and she couldn’t stop a quiet moan of relief. Leaning against the handrail, she caressed the back of her neck and wiped away the sheen of moisture that left her sticky. She closed her eyes to soak in all the sounds of the 1888 night. She wanted to remember. When she finally went back to 2016, she wanted to be able to pull up this memory as her own meditative escape from modern life.

  She wrapped her arms around herself hugging her abdomen. The tiny waist was such a new delight. She didn’t feel frumpy or embarrassed finally. How wonderful to not have the ever nagging self-consciousness weighing her down. In all the times when she thought she was so free because she was doing what only she wanted, she was never really free. The oppression of self-doubt always clouded her. She never quite matched people’s expectations. Where was her husband? Her children? Who did she talk to at dinner? She could see the questions in their eyes even if they never fully formed out of their mouth.

  Hearing a twig snap, she opened her eyes. A fat raccoon froze in the shadows. She stood very still so as to not scare it away. Slowly it began to waddle around the yard, stopping occasionally to pick up something with its tiny hands and turn it over. A thought dawned on her that that was who she was before. She was alone and fat and just exploring around. How could she go back to that? A pang of ache gripped her heart as she thought of her mother. If she never went back, if she just enjoyed life in this body and started new, she would never see her mother again. What would her mother think? Would they think she was a missing person? What happened to her body? What if it is still in that tub in 2016? Is it alive without her soul in it? Had time moved on like it did here or was it frozen, w
aiting?

  She envisioned the police investigating her questionable death. Would they think it was suicide? Her mother would be so sad. Maybe she should go back now. She could go back and see what was happening and maybe leave a note for her mother. She had plenty of the soap. But, what if it only worked this one time? No, whatever was happening, this was too great an opportunity to risk losing it. She would stay a little while longer and then try to go back. Hopefully time was standing still on the other side. She shook off the worry that her mother was grieving for her.

  She saw a large rock in the distance reflecting the light of the moon. It sat in the middle of dark meadow. Compelled to experience the night fully, she picked up her skirt lightly and stepped down the steps onto the dirt and made her way in the moonlight. The owl hooted again. She felt like all of the forest was watching her. She could imagine deer and birds turning to see the stranger moving silently through the tall grass. The wind pulled at her skirts now and tingled a dry softness on her moist skin even under her shirtwaist. The cool tickle on her spine was delightful.

  She reached the rock. It was just about two feet high with a flat top, perfect for sitting. She climbed up and sat crossed legged under her dark skirt. She looked down and realized that the bottom half of her body in the skirt completely disappeared in the darkness. Her white blouse on the other hand, glowed a purplish brightness. She thought about how from the lodge, she must look like a floating shirt.

  Leaning back on her hands, she looked up to see that half of the sky was now obscured. A bank of clouds had crept in with the wind. A tiny glow of lightening flashed deep inside the dark cloud. The air seemed full of life, crisp, and sweet smelling. A sudden rush of wind tugged harder at her hair and, despite her quick reaction to reach up and protect the heavy bun, the pins slid out and waves of blond wrapped around her and rose with the wind. Like being caught in sheets on a line to dry, her hair glowed in the moonlight and wafted wildly. The cool massaging of the pulling on her scalp was heavenly. A giggle erupted from her lips.

  Lost in the reverie of the natural world, she was jolted back to reality when huge glops of water instantly poured all over her and the rock. She jumped to her feet and quickly calculated that the tree line was closer than the lodge and maybe she could wait out the storm under the protection of a large maple tree. Gathering her now heavy rain soaked skirt over her arm, she ducked her head and ran. She marveled that it felt like floating as she ran with these delicate legs.

  She was halfway across the open expanse when a blinding surge of light stabbed the ground not 10 feet in front of her. The hum of electricity filled her ears. Coursing fingers of tangible energy grabbed at the grass. Steam sizzled and she halted terrified. A scream left her mouth but buzzing like a million bees blanketed all noise.

  She fell backward as the air whooshed past her and then a clap of thunder was the last thing she heard. Darkness closed in as cool rain pelted her face and heavy skirts pinned her against the grass.

  ***

  He had seen her on the rock as he came around to the porch. He’d had an enlightening conversation with Mr. Bransford as he ate dinner on the porch of Mr. Bransford’s cabin. His wife Charlotte served them food and drinks. The smile was still on his face as he chuckled remembering Mr. Bransford’s stories of visitors who had taken out on their own to visit the cave and how he had found them in various states of ignoble distress.

  He froze mid-step when the illuminated blouse caught his attention. Thinking it was a ghost or some hellish demon, he couldn’t move. Then he made out the delicate swoop of flaxen silk atop her head. In an imprudent display of reverie, she had leaned back on her arms and thrown her head back. She looked like a sacred goddess or a forest fairy. His sigh of relief hitched in his chest.

  Like a magnetic pull, his body yearned to move toward her, to wrap his arms around the ethereal torso, to let his lips roam up her graceful neck until they found the fount of life of her mouth. He fought the urge with all his strength, digging in his heels. Testing his resolve further, he watched her reach with graceful arms to hold her hair from the risk of being undone by the wind. Not fast enough, he watched it pull apart in a cyclone of silk and wildly wrack her face.

  The sight of her being pummeled by the passion of the wind sent a gripping jab of white hot shock from his chest to his loins. His body reacted to the sight of her on its own accord and he felt as powerless to resist as her golden tresses in the wind.

  Fighting with all his resolve, he was about to turn away and go the other direction when the wind swept through his hair, lifting the dark silky curls around his ears. The curtain of rain moved across the meadow and reached her before him. In the same instant, he saw her jump up and look at him and then the forest and back.

  Apparently deciding the forest was closer, she leapt like a gazelle from the rock and sprinted toward the trees. With a blinding flash, his breath caught as lightening stuck not ten feet from her. In the blink of an eye, he watched her delicate body flung backward and disappear in the tall grass. The crack of thunder rang in his ears. Without thinking, his legs propelled him across the meadow with the speed of a lion.

  He reached her in the grass and his heart tore in two, the physical pain he felt gripped him. She lay like a rag doll left outside. He feared she was surely dead, but even in death she looked like an angel. He knelt down and gently pulled her body to him, the soaking rain pelting them both. Her head lolled and his fears seized him. The warm softness of her thighs on his arms made his mind swim. Sucking in a breath of strength, he turned to finish her sprint to the trees.

  Under the umbrella of the maple, it was dry and cool, even though the boughs above creaked and groaned. With the gentleness of a father with a newborn, he set her down and cradled her head on his lap. A tear threatened to fall and he dashed it away. All of the emotion that he had stamped down in his heart, all the resolve that he had made as a scab to protect him, let loose and he crumpled.

  “Miss Everleigh! Please wake up!” He tapped her cheek and rubbed her arms. Drops of rain escaped from her forehead and ran rivulets down her face. Reminding him of tragic teardrops, he let go and sobbed. He hadn’t realized how real his feelings for her had become. How was it possible to fall in love so quickly? He knew she had touched him in a way no other woman had. Even sitting there on that rock soaking in all the natural wonder as though worshipping God’s creation in a church, she moved him. It had been so easy to turn a blind eye to women before. The constraints of proper society gave him a safe distance to guard his heart. Every other lady he had ever met was so bound to convention that he was never caught in the dangerous throws he was now. And now, this singularly vibrant creature was slipping out of life. As though his life could not have been any more tortuous, even by his own choice, now he had to hold this treasure of life while she slipped away.

  Tears now streamed freely down his cheeks as he railed at the impossible-ness of his life. Even if she had not been struck by lightning, how would he have gone on? He surely could not take her home to be his wife, not with his shameful secret.

  ***

  Lost in his misery, he didn’t see her breath suck in and her chest rise. Her eyes opened and she looked at the incongruous vision of raw masculinity as he cradled her and cried defeated. His rain soaked shirt revealed a wall of chest and muscular arms. His stubbly jaw framed a grimace and he quietly sobbed. Did he cry for her? Confusion swept her. His reaction at her obvious near death experience did not match her understanding of his annoyed revulsion of her.

  As she pondered this, he opened his eyes from the contorted twist of grief and saw she was alive. He transformed in one fluid image from sheer agony to elation to hunger for her mouth. Pulling her up into his arms and encircling her back and head, he paused once with his mouth so close she could breathe in his breath, and then pressed his mouth to hers with all the fierce emotion that had been bottled up inside his.

  She wound her arms around his strong neck and succumbed to the torrent of p
assion. Every fiber of her being screamed to merge with him. She pressed herself against his abdomen and the heat from his skin seared a path from her breasts to her hips. Her senses at once become hyper-aware of every touch and also deaf to anything around them. The storm around them raged with rain coming down in sheets around the tree, dripping in streams from the leaves above them, flashes of lightening and cracking of thunder.

  Nothing mattered but their souls, blindly bound by flesh and earth, finding each other.

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes. A smile curved the delicious lips that she had just tasted. She reached up and caressed his cheek. This wonderful man loved her and she could love him back. He pulled her close into an embrace. His scratchy stubble grazed her neck, tickling and causing her to convulse into him further. Heat from his mouth branded her collar bone right through the fabric of her shirt. Dizziness left her weak and she melted in the safety of his arms.

  Breathe, Everleigh, breathe!

  He stiffened slightly and, as though another person invaded his body, he quickly rose and pulled her to her feet. Brushing dirt and leaves from his trousers, he looked away.

  “Miss Addison, I beg your pardon. I- I lost myself. Please forgive me.” He still would not look at her and after looking slightly alarmed and ashamed, he stiffly held out his arm for her.

  Embarrassed, she tried to smooth out her skirt and twist her long, tangled mass of hair into order over her shoulder and down her chest. She couldn’t help herself from staring now. His behavior had so abruptly changed. What had she done? Was she wrong when she thought she saw love in his eyes?

  “Mr. Steel, um, thank you for rescuing me from the storm.”