The Couple

Her heart strings are plucked as by a player upon the harp who, with delicate precision, coaxes into existence a beautiful melody that is new to the world; so is the melody she plays upon her man’s soul, by the slightest touch of her delicate fingertips upon his bristled face…

Cupping her flawless chin in his calloused palm, he lightly touches the tip of her perfect nose with a kiss, his breath soft and warm. He treats each closed eye and receptive mouth the same, then embraces her for what neither of them understands will be the final time as he joins the sprtime march with his brothers-in-arms.

She lovingly straightens the plaid upon his left shoulder, and he brushes her fine auburn hair from her face, allowing the summer morning sun to reflect brightly in her clear blue eyes.

His mates can be heard singing and chanting and laughing before they are ever seen along the loch shores, the pipers casting an echoing wail upon the winds of the Highlands, sending drake and hen skimming across the still waters to safer hiding places.

One last kiss, one hug that should never end but does, slowly, as he walks away to join his countrymen. He doesn’t look back, because if he did he knew he would not leave her. Instead, he recalls the passion from the night before and holds it dearly in his heart.

She stands at the doorway every evening, awaiting his return…

…she realizes he will not be returning. She turns away from the door and the winter cold, her soul no longer whole, only a shadow now of the woman she was meant to be. Tending the fire in the hearth of her modest bothy, she knows the fire which once burned brightly in her soul could never be rekindled.

Many years later, cold, alone, heart aching, wrapped in her woolies and sheepskins, she sleeps.

Later…

The young copper-haired woman with the clear blue eyes smiles coyly at the young man, his hair a lion’s mane flowing behind him as he rides his mount through the market behind his companions wagon. The tartans worn commanded respect from those in the square, and the villagers parted as they made their way through. The young woman catches the eye of the young man, recognition sparking…she knows him, and he knows her, although if you were to ask either, neither would be able to tell when they first met and where. She remembers his scent, his taste, his touch.He rides on, looking behind him; she walks on with her purchases, looking after him, holding dearly the picture in her mind, never to be lost or forgotten. She finds herself suddenly weeping, feeling cold and alone, as if her best friend had just departed on a journey from which they would never return.

Feeling her heart about to burst for reasons she did not understand, she turns and runs after him. “Wait! Wait! M’Lord, please wait…” Out of breath, she stops and stares as they ride on. Looking down at the dust road through tear-filled eyes, she turns and heads for home, the din of the market falling soundless on her ears.

”Miss?”

She turns to see the young man leading his horse next to her, expectant look on his face.

“Oh! M’Lord, forgive my boldness, but…” she has difficulty breathing. “I…I just wanted to give you this…” She unties the ribbon around long hair and reties it around his muscular forearm. “For luck, and blessings…”

”Young lass, I should be honored to carry your adornment with me.” He looks back over his shoulder. “I must catch up. I bid you a good day.” Smiling, he turns and leads his horse away, turning his head to watch her until she is lost in the crowd.

Later…

Walking the busy street downtown at the end of her workday, the up-and-coming young professional stops at a local pub with her coworkers to relax and celebrate the end of a successful week with food, drinks and music. Her eye is caught by a young man sitting with friends. His military-styled high and tight dark hair is a strong compliment to his fierce build, bright eyes and smile. After the music starts, she steels her nerves and walks up to him and asks him to dance. They dance three times that night, each encounter leaving her more breathless. She smiles with her eyes and smiles with her movements on the dance floor, and he smiles back, a look of recognition on his face. As the evening grows late she leaves, never saying goodbye to the young man, but is sad that she never introduced herself and that he never asked her name.

He walks through the crowd looking for her, but she is gone. He steps outside and looks up and down the street, searching for her striking red hair. Walking back inside to his friends, he sits and contemplates this woman whose presence his heart remembers, but refuses to share the memory.

Later…

He notices the pretty woman with the captivating smile as she steps onto the Starship tender at the terminal, on her way to meet new business leads on Terraform number seventeen. As it is crowded, he immediately stands and offers his seat to the elderly gentleman who boards behind her. She smiles at his gallantry and notes how crisp he looks in his officer’s uniform. His eyes sparked, stirring up some deeply buried feelings in her soul.

She, as if on a dare, does something she never would have done in the past: She introduces herself. They talk. They laugh. They enjoy the company of each other.

They stop and look deeply at each other in recognition, and their breaths come up short.

”Kenna?”

”Arran?”

Tears well in Kenna’s eyes as she sobs. Arran holds her close and tight. “My love, my love…” he starts.

She looks up into his eyes. ”Are you going to leave me again?”

The End