Free Falling for Hope by Natalie Vivien

knees.   “I’m sorry she’s gone,” she murmured, then.
    The four women were silent for a
long moment before Chris made her squishy way over to Hope, and the two
embraced tightly.   “I’m sorry, too,”
murmured Chris, and Hope smiled softly.
    “All right, then, ladies.   If it’s not too much to ask, I’m getting a
little sick of this here trail.   I think
I’ve communed with nature enough to last me until…oh, next week,” Hope
grinned.  
    The rain spilled over their heads
in buckets, and lightning and thunder raged above them, but as the four women
helped each other make their way down the mountain, they smiled and laughed,
grateful for each other’s company.
     
    ---
     
    When Irene, Chris, Amy and
Hope—drenched but happy—entered the clearing that cradled the cabin, all of the
rest of the women were still gathered together on the porch, coffee mugs
abandoned on the picnic table nearby, the lights of the cabin blazing bright
yellow behind them.
    “Oh, my God, there they are!”
Lindsey cried, and then, despite the downpour ( Really , Amy thought, how
much water did one forest need ?), everyone surged out from beneath the dry
porch roof to embrace the thoroughly soaked quartet.  
    “Is Hope all right?”
    “Are you guys okay?”
    “What happened?”
    “Ladies, ladies…we’ll tell the
whole harrowing story around a roaring fire with plenty of wieners and S’mores
for all.   At least, that was the only
thought that kept me motivated on the trek back here,” Chris laughed.  
    “Great!” muttered Chris’s
girlfriend, whose name would always and forever escape Amy.
    “You guys go get cleaned up.   We’ll all start dinner,” said Lindsey, after
embracing her wife, Irene, with a tightness that left Irene laughing and
gasping.
    Hope and Amy and Irene and Chris
stumbled tiredly into the cabin, where—seated on the counter and staring
solemnly at the bedraggled women—was the tiny kitten Amy had adopted.
    “I’m gone for a couple of hours,
and look what happens,” joked Hope, holding out her wet arms to the
kitten.   And the kitten, in a very
uncatlike move, climbed onto Hope’s sopping wet sleeve and began to purr.
    “I got her from the convenience
store,” said Amy with a weak grin.   “I
don’t know…   She just felt right.”
    “Well, she’s very sweet,” said Hope
softly, rubbing a knuckle over the kitten’s head.   “What are you going to call her?”   The calico fur, mostly white but with a little bit of orange and
black speckled over her forehead, was now damp from Hope’s petting.
    Amy shrugged out of her wet jacket
and let it fall to the floor with a squish .   “I thought I’d ask you.”
    “Hey.   There’ll be time for cute, adorable baby animals later.   It’d kind of suck if, after all of that
awesome rescuing, you got the croup or something…” said Chris, shooing them out
of the kitchen.
    “The croup, Chris, really?   Are you watching historical dramas again?”
muttered Lindsey, eyes to the sky.   “She
learns these words and needs a dictionary,” she chuckled, as Chris rolled her
eyes.
    “The croup is totally something you
get if you’re out in the rain.   I saw it
on PBS.”
    “Sure,” said Lindsey, spreading her
hands, “and I’m Jane Austen.”
    “Actually, that’d be great,”
quipped Irene, snaking an arm about her wife’s waist and pulling her towards her.   Lindsey made a squeak of protest at Irene’s
soaked condition, but then melted against her and kissed Irene squarely on the
mouth.
    “Didn’t Jane Austen die of the
croup?” asked Chris to various groans as Hope took Amy’s hand and pulled her
toward the bedroom.
    Once inside, both women quickly
stripped out of their sopping wet clothes, letting them fall soggily the wood
floor.   Hope sighed and stretched
overhead, and it horrified Amy to see the black-and-blue marks scattered over
Hope’s body.
    “It wasn’t an especially easy slide down that cliff,”