hanging from a sturdy sycamore.
Recognizing her, Noah took a deep breath of night air cold enough to burn his lungs. But the pain didn't matter. Suddenly nothing mattered but Francie, sitting on the swing, looking serious enough to blot out the blink of white stars, the buttery glow of a three-quarter moon.
He took a few steps forward and the swing went still.
"It's Noah," he called softly in case she thought a stranger had entered the yard.
The light from the back porch reached her face. She didn't look happy to see him.
"It's a cold night for swinging," he said.
She pushed at the ground with her toes, rocking back and forth once more. "I couldn't relax in the house. Mama kept asking me questions."
He didn't think twice. "About?"
"Brent. The trip. What I'm going to do while I'm there."
Noah had plenty of questions himself but could see Francie needed space and privacy, not badgering. He went around to the back of the swing and took hold of the ropes.
"I'll push you," he offered.
She looked over her shoulder at him and saw he was serious. Lifting her feet, she relaxed her hold on the ropes.
Noah pushed the ropes the first time. On her second pass, he pushed the small of her back. He couldn't feel her through her down jacket.
"Higher," Francie insisted.
He used more force.
"Higher," she repeated as she pointed her toes at the sky.
"Do you plan to reach the moon?" he teased.
"I wish," floated back to him.
She swung as if she were trying to escape gravity's hold, trying to escape the decisions she had to make. He pushed harder, wanting to help her soar above her problems. The clear night, the velvet sky, the refreshing cold, suddenly became gifts that made the moment more precious than tomorrow.
After awhile, Francie's weight shifted on the swing, her legs lowering slightly, and Noah sensed she was ready to stop. His pushes became slower, less powerful, until Francie dragged her feet and the swing slowed to a halt.
"Did you know you can own a star?" she asked, gazing at the heavens.
"Seriously?"
She stood, still holding on to the swing's rope with one hand. "Gina showed me an ad online a few years ago. There's a celestial governing board that discovers new stars. If you e-mail them, they'll tell you where the star is and, for a fee, they'll give it your name."
"You'd like a star?"
She glanced at him and then looked up at the sky again. "After Gina told me about it, I thought it was a nice idea. When I traveled so much, I'd look up at the sky and think about my family looking at the same moon, the same stars. Somehow I felt closer to them."
Her words touched Noah's heart in places that had never been touched before. She had such a strong sense of belonging—something he'd never had. But more important, he knew she realized how precious that sense of belonging was, how lucky she was to have it.
Her beautiful long hair flowed along her cheek and down her back. With her face lifted to the sky, her profile became the perfect cameo. He ached to touch her delicate nose, her determined chin, her sensually curved lips. Instead he clasped her shoulder and she looked from the stars to him. Strands of hair teased his hand. He'd wanted to run his fingers through it from the first moment he'd laid eyes on it. Lifting his hand, he took a lock of black silk between his fingers. He'd never felt anything so soft, so sensual. One handful wasn't enough.
With both hands, he brushed her hair back from her face. Francie let go of the rope and closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair again, and then again. She swayed toward him, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. With gentle fingers, he traced the classic lines of her face, memorizing the softness, the texture, the beauty. He caressed her brows, stroked her cheeks, teasingly grazed the point of her chin. But he didn't touch her lips; he was saving them for last.
"I regret
Recognizing her, Noah took a deep breath of night air cold enough to burn his lungs. But the pain didn't matter. Suddenly nothing mattered but Francie, sitting on the swing, looking serious enough to blot out the blink of white stars, the buttery glow of a three-quarter moon.
He took a few steps forward and the swing went still.
"It's Noah," he called softly in case she thought a stranger had entered the yard.
The light from the back porch reached her face. She didn't look happy to see him.
"It's a cold night for swinging," he said.
She pushed at the ground with her toes, rocking back and forth once more. "I couldn't relax in the house. Mama kept asking me questions."
He didn't think twice. "About?"
"Brent. The trip. What I'm going to do while I'm there."
Noah had plenty of questions himself but could see Francie needed space and privacy, not badgering. He went around to the back of the swing and took hold of the ropes.
"I'll push you," he offered.
She looked over her shoulder at him and saw he was serious. Lifting her feet, she relaxed her hold on the ropes.
Noah pushed the ropes the first time. On her second pass, he pushed the small of her back. He couldn't feel her through her down jacket.
"Higher," Francie insisted.
He used more force.
"Higher," she repeated as she pointed her toes at the sky.
"Do you plan to reach the moon?" he teased.
"I wish," floated back to him.
She swung as if she were trying to escape gravity's hold, trying to escape the decisions she had to make. He pushed harder, wanting to help her soar above her problems. The clear night, the velvet sky, the refreshing cold, suddenly became gifts that made the moment more precious than tomorrow.
After awhile, Francie's weight shifted on the swing, her legs lowering slightly, and Noah sensed she was ready to stop. His pushes became slower, less powerful, until Francie dragged her feet and the swing slowed to a halt.
"Did you know you can own a star?" she asked, gazing at the heavens.
"Seriously?"
She stood, still holding on to the swing's rope with one hand. "Gina showed me an ad online a few years ago. There's a celestial governing board that discovers new stars. If you e-mail them, they'll tell you where the star is and, for a fee, they'll give it your name."
"You'd like a star?"
She glanced at him and then looked up at the sky again. "After Gina told me about it, I thought it was a nice idea. When I traveled so much, I'd look up at the sky and think about my family looking at the same moon, the same stars. Somehow I felt closer to them."
Her words touched Noah's heart in places that had never been touched before. She had such a strong sense of belonging—something he'd never had. But more important, he knew she realized how precious that sense of belonging was, how lucky she was to have it.
Her beautiful long hair flowed along her cheek and down her back. With her face lifted to the sky, her profile became the perfect cameo. He ached to touch her delicate nose, her determined chin, her sensually curved lips. Instead he clasped her shoulder and she looked from the stars to him. Strands of hair teased his hand. He'd wanted to run his fingers through it from the first moment he'd laid eyes on it. Lifting his hand, he took a lock of black silk between his fingers. He'd never felt anything so soft, so sensual. One handful wasn't enough.
With both hands, he brushed her hair back from her face. Francie let go of the rope and closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair again, and then again. She swayed toward him, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. With gentle fingers, he traced the classic lines of her face, memorizing the softness, the texture, the beauty. He caressed her brows, stroked her cheeks, teasingly grazed the point of her chin. But he didn't touch her lips; he was saving them for last.
"I regret
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