39

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Maddie asked as Asa gently backed her against the wall, and reached for the buttons of her blouse.

“Mmm,” he murmured, kissing her neck and pressing his body against hers.

“I guess you are,” she teased, gazing into his blue eyes. “Didn’t your doctor tell you to take it easy?”

“I am taking it easy,” he whispered, pulling her toward their old sleigh bed while slowly undressing her.

She lay back on the soft comforter and watched his eyes take in her body as if they were seeing it for the first time. A soft summer breeze rustled the curtains, and he lay on the bed next to her, pulling her body against his. The gentle touch of his hand was as familiar to her as the warmth of the sun on her skin. Even before he touched her she knew where his fingers would trace long slow circles . . . where they would linger . . . and where they would explore. He knew her body as well as he knew his own . . . and he knew how to bring her to the edge, and with a mischievous smile, stop . . . until she could barely hold on. Then he would cover his body with hers, and with the easy rhythm that was ancient and familiar as time itself, they would once again find each other’s heat and pleasure.

On rare occasions, Asa closed his eyes, and it always made Maddie wonder if he was thinking of a time long ago. She never asked. She didn’t want to know. She knew he’d always been faithful . . . and that was enough, but sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder—when his eyes were closed—if he was remembering Noelle. Maddie knew Asa’s first love had been painful and real and deep. But did he still slip back into the memory of her?

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing her softly and easing to her side.

“I love you too,” she whispered, pushing the thought from her mind. It didn’t matter, she thought, reaching for his hand and drifting off.

Asa looked out the window at the stars and listened to the cicadas in the trees. The droning summer sounds at this time of year always reminded him of the bittersweet day he’d left for college . . . and all of the lonely autumn days that followed. Sometimes the memory still made his heart ache. Suddenly, the peaceful night was shattered by terrified squawking. Maddie woke up in alarm as Asa flew down the stairs with Harper barking at his heels. He turned on the back light just in time to see a fox disappearing into the woods. “No!” he shouted, pushing open the door and running toward the pond, but it was too late. The fox was gone. Asa stood in the yard, naked, his chest tightening in anguished pain as the distraught gander called out frantically for his mate.