Free A Brush of Wings by Karen Kingsbury Page A

“Don’t you get it?” He chuckled but the sound was mostly sad. “I’m not leaving. One day you’ll be back and I’ll be here. Waiting for you.” He hesitated. “If you’ll let me.”
    Two tears slid down her cheeks. I want to, she thought. Dear God, You know I want to . She stood and walked to the water’s edge. Her feet ankle-deep in the cold surf, the tears came harder. She wanted to run to him and beg him to never leave, never let her go.
    Which was why she needed to end things with Marcus.
    She hated losing him but she had no choice. Africa was now or never—and this trip had been a dream of hers for too long to give it up now. Sure, if she were healthy she could agree to let Marcus wait for her. But there was no point. Her situation was what it was.
    Mary Catherine felt his arms around her before he reached her. The bond between them was that strong. He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. She didn’t turn around, didn’t want him to see her crying. Instead she leaned her head back on his chest and closed her eyes.
    “Hey.” His words came with a gentleness that belied his great strength. He eased her around so she was facing him. He caught her next few tears with his fingertips. “Is it me?” He looked pained even asking. “I’m just . . . not the one? Is that it?”
    She searched his eyes. Somehow she could breathe better when he was this close. “It’s never you.” She put her hand on his cheek. “I told you before. If I was going to love someone . . . it would be you.”
    At first he looked like he might argue, press for an answer that made more sense. Instead he slowly pulled her into his arms and held her. Mary Catherine memorized the feeling as they swayed ever so slightly to the sound of the nearby waves. She had never felt more safe and secure.
    More loved.
    Finally he eased back and moved his hands to her shoulders. “Then I’ll wait.” His breath was sweet against her skin, his words like balm to her heart. “When you come back in six months I’ll be here.”
    “I might not come back and then—”
    “I’ll move to Africa.” He searched her eyes. “Or to the moon. Wherever you are.”
    Mary Catherine fell quiet. “No.” Her heartache had nothing to do with her health. “I asked you to be my friend.”
    It was true. Last time they were together she had asked him to be content with that. And he had promised he would. That he would be the best friend she’d ever had.
    A smokiness filled his eyes. He ran his hands lightly down her arms and looked to the deepest parts of her soul. “Does this . . . feel like friendship?”
    She hesitated, trying to remember which way was up. Gradually she shook her head and whispered just one word. “No.”
    “Then I’ll wait.” His words filled up every lonely, hurting place inside her.
    Then, just when she thought he might kiss her, he took her hand. “Let’s walk.”
    The beach was empty except for an occasional surfer. They headed north toward the pier, and again Mary Catherine felt winded. A constant reminder that she had to keep resisting him. Every twenty yards or so she stopped and stared at the sunset. The pace allowed them time to talk about other things. Marcus was involved in a weekly chapel Sunday mornings at the Camelback Ranch spring training facility.
    “I had no idea so many major leaguers were Christians.” Marcus smiled. “A few of us meet for Bible study every morning. I’m learning a ton.”
    “Like what?” She loved being with him, loved the way his fingers felt between hers.
    “About living different from society. Living out God’s ways not only in love, but in truth.” He squinted at the sunset. “I want my life built on God’s word.” He picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through the fingers of his free hand. “Nothing else lasts.”
    Mary Catherine felt her attraction to him double. They walked a little more and then turned to face the water. The golden light was