Free A Midsummer Eve's Nightmare by Donna Fletcher Crow Page B

reassurance.”
    Before entering the park Richard and Elizabeth stopped at a little island where the road divided and went on either side of a turn-of-the-century gazebo covering a fountain bubbling up cool, crystal clear Lithia water, the mineral-rich water some claimed offered great health benefits. “Have to taste it, it’s part of the Ashland experience.” Elizabeth gestured for Richard to go first.
    He took a mouthful of the clear, bubbling liquid. Just one. “Blahh!” He put his hand to his throat. “I’ve been poisoned! You set that up so you could marry a rich husband next time.” He cupped his palm for a handful of water and flipped it at Elizabeth. She shrieked and whirled away from him, off the island and into the street. Laughing, he turned to scoop up more water when a squeal of tires jerked him around again.
    A girl nearby on the sidewalk screamed. The car with the screeching tires was inches from Elizabeth.
    Richard lunged.
    His long fingers caught just the hem of her full skirt. He jerked her back.
    It was enough. By a quarter of an inch and the grace of God it was enough.
    The little silver car streaked on down the street.
    Shaking so violently he could hardly move, clutching her fiercely with both arms, Richard half carried, half led Elizabeth across the street to a bench just inside the park. “Oh, Elizabeth. Thank God. Oh, my darling.” He buried his head in her hair.
    Although Elizabeth’s heart thumped so loudly she could barely hear Richard’s words, the experience had been far less terrifying for her. She hadn’t seen the car until it was past, and by then she was safe in Richard’s arms. But she knew it had brought back to him the anguish of losing his first wife. Elizabeth felt again the pain she had experienced vicariously that night at The Eyrie when he had told her about it. That had been just one of the times she had fallen in love with him.
    And this was another. She wrapped her arms around him, offering reassurance to them both. Was that what marriage was all about—at least the ‘for better’ part—a lifetime of falling- in-love experiences?
    “Richard, darling, it’s all right. I’m fine. Not a scratch.”
    “Thank heaven.” He let his breath out in a rush and hugged her tighter yet.
    They sat for several minutes, locked in each others’ arms, trembling and rejoicing in just being together. Alive.
    Then from across the park, the clear notes of a recorder group floated to them gently as an angel’s song, “Abide with me. Fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide. . .” Without speaking, barely loosening their grasp on each other, Richard and Elizabeth stood and began strolling across the park. They paused at the stone bridge curving across the creek and listened to the last phrase of the song, “. . .through life, through death, O Lord, abide with me.” They smiled at each other and, arm in arm, crossed the bridge, the breeze blowing the notes of a new song after them. This time “Morning Has Broken,” even though it was almost evening.
    Beyond the playground the narrow, winding path led gently upward through verdant bushes and under thick trees as the early evening shadows lengthened across their private, green world. Nothing could have been more soothing to their shattered nerves. The path was so narrow Elizabeth clung close to Richard in order to be able to walk side by side. Concentrating on the strength of his presence and the beauty of nature, she forced all her doubts, fears and questions from her mind to revel in this time alone with the husband who was such a gift. Once again she was convinced of the fallacy of the popular notion that marriages weren’t made in heaven.
    She felt it was almost a calling to be an object lesson in this world of broken marriages and broken hearts and shattered dreams to the fact that marriage wasn’t as outmoded as so many claimed. Nor was happiness impossible, even in an imperfect world.
    They