Page 67 of Nothing Less than Magic
I drill him with a look.Not muchis not a mile. To stall for time, I pretend to take in the view. Then I really take it in. “Wow!”
Knox breaks into a wide smile. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Then it should really be something, because the sight before me, a series of red clay formations drenched in the afternoon sun, is beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. Ethereal and breathtaking.
“It’s like something from another world,” I say, awestruck.
“Yep.” He meets my gaze and holds it.
“What?”
“It’s nothing less than magic,” he says, but I no longer think we’re talking about the view.
“What is?”
“You asked me the other day what I’m looking for after Sienna, whether I still want the picture of the life I’d imagined with her. I told you I still did. What I didn’t tell you, what I didn’t know until today, is that I want this.” His eyes never stop holding mine. “Magic. Nothing less than magic.” He grabs my hand again. “Come on. I wasn’t kidding about the light.”
He pulls me halfway up the hill, giving me no time to parse what he’s just said, no time to let it settle around me. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it gave me chills. The magic part. Because I am feeling it, too.
We continue to trudge upward, my shoes rubbing my heels, leaving a blister. I clutch his hand, liking that it is larger than mine, liking the strength of it. And the warmth. It’s cold outside. Colder than I had planned for, because I am only wearing a sweater.
“Almost there,” he says, and slows his pace, giving me a moment to get my bearings.
This is when I see it. In the distance, an enormous waterfall cascading over a rocky ledge into a clear, deep pool. A fairy pool. Knox is right about the light; the sun is shining so bright, there’s a rainbow in the fall’s mist.
“Is that it?” I ask almost reverently.
“It’s even better closer.” He leads me down a narrow path to a wooden suspension bridge. “Come on. We can touch the water.”
But I stop at the first rung, looking down at the rushing river below. “I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.”
“It’s not that high. Only about forty feet. Besides, the bridge is safe. They wouldn’t open it to the public if it wasn’t.”
I take a step, then pull my foot back, paralyzed with fear. “It looks rickety, like it’s not strong enough to hold us.”
“I’ve got you, Chelsea. I’ll be with you every step of the way. But we need to get to the other side.”
“Why can’t we just enjoy it from here?”
He reaches out and brushes my face with the back of his hand, his eyes watery. “I wish we could, but it’s time to cross over. We have to hurry, because we’re running out of time.”
“Okay,” I say, and hold my breath. “You go first.”
He takes five steps, then holds his hand out for me. “See, it’s fine.”
I miss his hand and grab onto his sleeve, gingerly testing the bridge with my foot. It swings under our weight, and I clutch Knox’s arm tighter. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Swing? That’s the fun of it.”
“Fun? I don’t think so.” I make the mistake of looking down. “Let’s do it next time.” I start to back up, but Knox pulls me forward.
“Chels, we’re here now. Let’s not blow this.” But even he seems ambivalent, reluctant. “I owe it to you, Chels. Your window of opportunity is closing. You’ll see, it’ll be fine. Scout’s honor.” He holds up three fingers and smiles.
“Okay. But you should know that there’s a good chance I’ll freak out in the middle. Then what will we do?”
“I’ll go to the middle now. All you have to do is come to me, meet me halfway. We’ll do the last part together.”
I nod, doing my best not to look down at the swirling water below. Put one foot in front of the other, I tell myself.
