Free A Brush of Wings by Karen Kingsbury

breathless around Marcus. Tomorrow didn’t matter.
    Not as long as she and Marcus could have one more time at the beach.

    MARY CATHERINE WALKED until she couldn’t breathe. Then she would stop to share anecdotes from her work week or look at the crystal blue sky or laugh at something he said. He held her hand and stayed at her side, never seeming to notice the slow pace.
    Each slight break gave her time to catch her breath.
    By the time they reached their spot on the beach it was just after six o’clock. The temperature had dropped into the low sixties—normal for mid-March, but still chilly. The cool air felt wonderful to Mary Catherine. She slid her shoes off, rolled up her jeans, and dropped cross-legged to the dry sand. “I want to swim.”
    Marcus took off his shoes and rolled up his jeans, as well. He sat beside her and rubbed his bare arms. “You might need your wetsuit.”
    “True.” She laughed. “We should’ve stopped by my apartment first.” But even as she said the words she knew a swim now wasn’t possible. The cold water combined with her health would make it impossible to breathe. Besides, her doctor had forbidden it.
    A quiet fell over them, intimate and sacred, their eyes on the pretty blue horizon. This time Marcus left a little room between them. The space gave Mary Catherine the chance to think more clearly, to convince herself this wasn’t a dream. After so long apart Marcus Dillinger really was sitting beside her, on her favorite beach.
    But what about after this? He’d fly back to Arizona tonight.
    She felt a ribbon of fear work its way through her. Marcus would get on a plane and a few days later, she would do the same. And that would be that. These would be their last few hours together for a very long time. Maybe forever.
    She narrowed her eyes and blinked back the beginning of tears.
    “What are you thinking?” Marcus turned to her, his expression warm and kind.
    “Lots.” She smiled, taking her time. The pull she felt toward him was magnetic. Stronger than the ocean tide. “I wish I could stop time.”
    “Mmm. Me, too.” He slid closer, and their bare arms touched again. Once more he faced the water. “Maybe I really will quit baseball and move to Africa.”
    “Sure.” A giggle escaped before she could stop it. “The Dodgers will love that.”
    “Mary Catherine . . .” He turned his body so he could see her better. He hesitated for a long moment. “If you want to stop time, why do you push me away?”
    The sting of her tears grew stronger. “I’m sorry.”
    “I know.” His tone was gentle, his voice mixed with the breeze off the Pacific. “But why?” He sighed and hung his head for a beat. When he looked up, she could see the muscles in his jaw. “Can’t you feel it? The way we are . . . the way it is between us?”
    “Yes.” She stared at the ocean. “I feel it.” God, what am I supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Marcus the truth. She refused to burden him with her struggles. Finally she turned to him again. “I’m not like other girls. I need crazy adventure. Something different.” She hated this, hated not telling him the truth. “What if I don’t come back from Africa?”
    He drew back, as if he’d been slapped. “Ever?”
    “Right.” She felt her head spinning. Because I might not live that long. The sad reality swept over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. This time she could do nothing to stop her tears.
    He leveled his gaze at her. “What happened to the girl who wanted someone present, in the moment? Someone she could be real with?” He paused. “Someone who would listen?”
    Mary Catherine could see herself that long-ago night, walking beside Marcus in his neighborhood, the two of them getting to know each other. He was right. She’d said those exact words. Now she searched his eyes. “Things changed.” At least that part was true. “I’m going away.”
    “For six months, Mary Catherine. So what?” Marcus shook his head.