Christy woke up slowly. Somewhere in the back of her subconscious, she realized that someone was kissing her. She sighed and relished the passionate lips that ran the length of her neck before capturing her mouth for a warm inviting kiss. Opening her eyes, she found Curt’s steely blue ones staring down intently at her.
“Ummm,” she murmured and reached up her arms to embrace his neck. “Good morning, Mr. O’Sullivan.”
“Good morning, indeed, Mrs. O’Sullivan,” he whispered against her mouth before reclaiming it.
Christy snuggled down against her husband of two days and smiled. “It seems strange that everything is so quiet. Sarah would normally have had us up for an hour or more by now. I’m glad CJ agreed to keep her at their place while we honeymooned.”
Curt laughed. “She’s got quite a set of lungs on her—I have to say that. Never realized babies could be so demanding.”
“You should hear her in the middle of the night when she thinks she’s starving to death and nobody’s going to come feed her.” Christy suddenly sobered. “You aren’t sorry you married us, are you?”
“You trying to get rid of me?”
Christy pushed Curt aside and rolled up on one elbow. “I mean it,” she said completely serious. “I just don’t want you to regret—”
He reached up and put his hand across her mouth. “You should know by now that I rarely do anything against my will. I’m a determined man, Christy. Especially when I’m convinced that God is leading me in a particular direction. You were one of those directions in which He led me. Understand?”
Christy nodded, and Curt lowered his hand with a grin. “Besides,” he continued, “I seem to recall a promise you made to do anything if I got Sarah back to you safely.”
“I married you, didn’t I?” she teased and flopped back against the pillows. Curt followed her and pulled her close against him.
“You don’t regret it, do you?” he said, reflecting her question back at her.
“Why would I regret it?” Christy questioned innocently.
“Well, I’m not your regular guy,” Curt admitted.
“No, you certainly aren’t!” declared Christy with a smile. “You are most unusual. Unique, in fact.”
“Unique, eh?” Curt got a mischievous look on his face. “I think I like that. One-of-a-kind. Like some of the other little treasures in your massive Victorian museum-of-a-house. Maybe you’re just collecting rare priceless pieces.”
“Or little bits of junk that nobody else will have,” Christy teased.
“What a thing to say!” Curt exclaimed and began tickling Christy until she was laughing so hard, she begged him to stop.
Curt reached up and brushed back a strand of chocolate brown hair. His finger trailed down her cheek to her neck, then rested on her soft, white shoulder.
Christy stared back at her husband, no longer afraid of the stirring impact. She remembered the times she’d fought to keep from looking at his face—to keep her eyes from meeting his and feeling the power he held over her. Now she relished that feeling and sought it eagerly. Now she belonged to him in full, and nothing would ever separate them. At least she prayed nothing would. A slight frown crossed her face as Christy remembered all the infidelity in her life. Surely Curt would remain faithful. His values were different, and Christy was sure that would make all the difference.
“What are you thinking about?” Curt asked softly.
Christy shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You’re lying,” he said firmly. “After all we’ve been through, is it possible that you still don’t trust me?”
“Of course not!” Christy declared, but she knew there was an element of truth in his question.
“Then what made you look so sad just now?”
Christy took a deep breath and looked away. “I just don’t want what we have to end.”
Curt pulled her face back to his. “And you’re worried that it will?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“Yes, you can, although I’m not sure you need to. I think I already understand,” Curt said and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’re wondering when I’m going to treat you as badly as every other man in your life. Isn’t that it?”
Christy’s eyes widened at Curt’s words. They hit their mark.
“I thought so,” he said, without waiting for her to confirm his suspicions. He pulled her against him tightly and held her for several minutes without saying a word. When he did speak, he was close to tears.
“Christy, I have never cared for anyone in my life the way I care for you. I love you with all my heart, almost as though you were an extension of my soul. I know I’ll make mistakes, but we’ll take it one day at a time—together.”
“Together,” she murmured.
“Together, with God,” he added. “Leave it in God’s hands, Christy. Things might get difficult from time to time. That’s just life. Remem-ber that verse in Isaiah?”
“About youths getting tired and weary?”
“Not just that part. Do you remember the rest of it?” “I don’t know. I guess I kind of remember it.” “‘But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint,’” Curt recited and added, “That’s us, Christy. We’ve put our hope in the Lord. When the times get rough and things look impossible, God will renew our strength. He’ll give us wings like eagles to fly high above and beyond the tribulation that threatens to destroy us. We can count on Him, Christy. You believe that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “more than I ever thought possible.”
Sometime later, Christy stood on the deck outside the rustic cabin that she and Curt shared for their honeymoon. The log-framed hideaway was nestled amid tall ponderosa pines overlooking a small mountain lake.
Catching the crisp May breeze, Christy lifted her face to the sun’s warmth and sighed. A movement overhead caught her attention, just as Curt came from inside the cabin to stand behind her.
“Look,” she whispered. A solitary eagle rose on graceful wings against the rich blue of the mountain sky. His wide, powerful wings took him higher and higher until finally he achieved the heights he sought. Then the eagle sailed downward, gliding silently. Never once did he beat his wings against the wind. He simply soared across the skies, catching warm pockets of air that lifted him higher and higher, until he once again turned to drift down toward the earth.
“Wings like eagles,” Christy whispered. A perfect design, she thought. A design only God could create and that He offered His children in return for their hope placed in Him.
“Wings like eagles,” Curt murmured against her ear. “Wings that will take us home to Him.”