Page 68 of Nothing Less than Magic
“Stay there,” I call to Knox over the cacophony of the river. “Don’t move. Don’t make the bridge swing.”
“I’m right here.” He holds his hand out, but it’s too far to reach without me moving forward. “I promise, I won’t move.”
I take a baby step, testing the strength of my will, testing the strength of the bridge. Though wobbly, the bridge feels sound. Sturdy.
“Just a few more steps and you’re here,” Knox coaxes.
He’s right, yet for me, it’s a million miles away.
I consider turning around and running back to firm ground. “We can come tomorrow. I’ll be better prepared tomorrow.”
“You won’t be here tomorrow. You’re leaving, remember?”
“I’ve reconsidered,” I say. “I’ll cancel my lecture.”
I can see he’s exploring the idea, that it even appeals to him. But at the last minute, he insists, “As much as I want you to stay, it’s a bad plan. It would be irresponsible to disappoint all those people. They’re depending on you.”
He’s right. They’re depending on me. And After Albuquerque, I could fly to LAX, finish what I started with Lolly. Convince her that it’s different now, that I’m different. Tell her that I want to know my niece and nephew, really know them. And I should visit Uncle Sylvester, too, spend some quality time with him, because it’s been too long. We hardly know each other anymore.
“Okay,” I say. “You’re right. But you’ll have to be patient. This scares me to death.”
Knox nods. “I know. But you’re in good hands. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I know this intrinsically, probably more than I’ve ever known anything before. Knox Hart won’t let anything happen to me. More than anyone else in the world, I trust my safety—not just my safety, my everything—in his hands. And this is the sad thing—or maybe the best thing, depending on how you look at it—I can’t remember the last time I felt safe in anyone’s hands. Not even in Austin’s.
“I’m going to do it,” I say, taking a deep breath and another step forward. Then another one. But I’m still too far away to grab his outstretched hand.
My heart is beating so fast, I’m afraid it’ll bounce right out of my chest. But I inch a little closer to Knox, to his hand, which is waving encouragingly to me.
“You’ve got this, Chels. Look how far you’ve come already.”
“It’s not that bad,” I lie. It probably wouldn’t be this terrifying if it wasn’t for the river below us. The water is moving fast, deadly fast. And just looking at it, I can tell it’s cold, hypothermic cold from the snow up in the mountains. Even a person without a fear of heights would be intimidated.
“Almost here,” he says, and gives me a wide smile.
It’s the smile that moves me to reach for his hand, to take the necessary last steps to grab it. And when I finally do, it’s like something ruptures inside of me. Not relief, exactly; something more akin to an overwhelming rush of love.
“One more half to go.” Knox pulls me to him and there, in the middle of the bridge, holds me like he never wants to let me go. “Ready?”
“I think so. But I’m still having second thoughts about leaving.”
“Nah. It’s time, Chels.” He hugs me again, and I cling to him. “Let’s do this.”
“You go first.” The bridge is narrow, and it makes me nervous to be so close to the edge.
“You sure? You don’t want to do the last leg together?”
“It’ll be better for me to do it the same way. With you going first and cheering me forward.”
“You got it.” He lets go of me and walks the final distance.
He’s so close to the waterfall that the mist shrouds him, making him look like an apparition.
“Are you getting wet?” I call.
“I can’t hear you.”
This time, I yell it. “Are you getting wet?”
