Free With the Wind | A Short Novel by Judith Cropola Page A

shattered.
     
     
     
     
                 
     
                 
                 
                 
                               
     
     
     
     
     
                 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
     
                  They stopped at a gas station ten miles away from the winery.
                  They were soaking wet.
                  They didn’t care.
                  “I have never seen you so…so…”
                  “Happy?”
                  “Yes, happy.  And wet.”
                  They laughed.  Then they kissed.
                  People were staring at them. 
    They were quite the sight.
    Two young lovers making out in a Jeep in a rainstorm oblivious to the world.
    “I’m going to fill up the tank.  Why don’t you put on the top?”
    “Yes.  That might be best.”
    Misty returned from the convenience store with a small bag of food and another bag of clothes.
    “Dry shirts,” she pronounced.
    Daniel looked at the sweaters.  They matched.  “I heart Oregon?”
    “I love Oregon.  You read the red heart as the word love.”
    “Most appropriate.”
    “I brought some towels.”
                  They dried themselves and the interior of the Jeep, pausing in between for more kisses.
                  They changed into their sweaters.
                  “Now where?” Daniel asked.
                  “I know just the place.”  Misty was punching numbers into her cell phone as they headed off toward the river.
     
     
    ********
     
                  “We have been here before.”
                  “Multnomah Falls.”
                  “Yes, I remember.”
                  “This is where we first kissed.”
                  “You tricked me, as I recall.”
                  “You recall correctly.  I don’t have to trick you now, do I?”
                  “No, my love.  To kiss you is pure joy.”
                  After a brief embrace, Misty said, “Shall we go in?”
                  “What is this place?  Looks like house.  Friends of yours?”
                  “It’s called a Bed and Breakfast.  It’s kind of like an inn.”
                  “We may stay here?”
                  “Yes we may.”
                  They walked in the front door.  A pleasant looking older lady greeted them.
                  “Hi.  I’m Misty Buffett.  I just called you.”
                  “Yes, of course.  You and your fiancé need a room for the night?”
                  “We do.” 
    They smiled at each other.     
    They were engaged. 
                  This was really happening.
                  “I have our best suite available.  It is called ‘Grandmere’s Room’.”
                  “May we see it?” Misty asked.
                  “Follow me.”
                  The room was spacious, over five hundred square feet.  It was full of antiques.  There was a large king size bed covered with a gorgeous off white comforter.  The bathroom featured an oversized, old fashioned cast iron tub.
                  The falls were framed through the room’s main window.
                  “It’s perfect.  We’ll take it,” Misty declared.
                  “For one night?”
                  “Yes.  What time is checkout?”
                  “Eleven am.”
                  “We’ll see you