Falling for Hope Read online

  “How did you even get down there?” she asked, immediately regretting the question as Hope shook her head.

  “It was muddy, and I slid and fell—and the ledge saved me.”

  “Oh, God.” Irene rubbed at her eyes, taking the baseball cap off of her head and running her hand nervously through her hair again.

  “Found it!” called Chris, yanking out a carefully tied coil of rope.

  “Do I want to know why you have rope in your backpack?” said Hope, laughing a little.

  “You never know when you’re going to have to rope a steer, obviously,” said Chris, who lived in the city and had probably never come face to face with a cow in her life. The four women smiled, even as another bolt of lightning struck nearby.

  “Here…” called Chris, untying the rope from its coil and beginning to lower it. “You’re not hurt, are you, Hope?”

  “Just my pride,” Hope snorted as she grasped the end of the rope. “But you guys have to be incredibly careful. The edge of the cliff face is super slippery. That’s what made me fall.”

  “It’s also what probably saved you,” said Irene, looking at the steep slope of the cliff.

  “Yeah, I dug my hands in trying to catch myself. Didn’t work, though,” Hope said remorsefully, knotting the rope around her stomach.

  “All three of us will pull you up.” Irene indicated to Chris and Amy that they should move back from the ledge. “Holler when you’re ready for us to pull!” called Irene.

  Chris, Amy and Irene went to the far edge of the trail, leaning against the sheer rock wall, tightening the rope around their wrists. Amy’s heart raced, and the rain was so cold, she was shaking. If they slipped—and they could; the mud under their feet offered no traction—Hope could plunge to her death.

  “I’m ready!” called Hope, her voice sharp with forced cheerfulness. Irene, white as a sheet, glanced to Chris and Amy and nodded once.

  “All right. We’re going to pull you up now!” she called, and the three women dug in their feet and pulled. Slowly—excruciatingly slowly—they began to drag the rope up, its rough surface burning their fingers. Amy’s breath came in short little bursts as she and Chris and Irene leaned toward Hope’s weight, scraping their heels against the rock and pulling backwards as hard as they could. There was no tree nearby to loop the rope around, and there was no possibility of rest until Hope was safe and sound. They heard Hope scrabbling against the mud as the rain continued to pour down all around them.

  That’s when Amy realized that they were beginning to slide.

  “Hold on!” she called out desperately, and Irene leaned toward the rock wall, but Chris was beginning to slide quickly now, aiming for the edge of the cliff, her hiking boots unable to gain any purchase against the mud that slicked the trail.

  “Guys, are you all right?” called Hope from somewhere beyond sight. Was it Amy’s imagination, or did she sound much closer than Amy had figured Hope would be at this point?

  “Never been better!” Chris grunted, almost sitting down on her behind as she hauled back on the rope with all of her might. “But you can get your ass up here anytime you like!” she called, and they heard laughter from over the edge.

  Chris managed to shove herself backward a little, digging her feet into the mud, and Irene and Amy pulled harder, gaining a little more rope.

  Amy saw a movement, then, over the edge of the cliff, and she swallowed a sob as Hope’s arm came up and over, trying to find something to grab onto.

  “Amy, go help her—but be careful!” shouted Irene, and Amy, slowly and carefully, let go of the rope. Chris grunted, the weight falling heavier to her as she was out front, but Amy sprinted past her, falling to her knees.

  “Hey, beautiful,” said Hope tiredly, grinning up at Amy and holding on with both arms to the ledge.

  Amy gulped and held down her tears of relief as she took Hope’s right arm and pulled back. Hope scrabbled up and over the earth to lie flat on her back, safe, and then all four women crawled away from the edge and collapsed in the deep mud on the trail.

  “Oh, my God, that was fun,” said Chris with a drawl, and the other women laughed weakly as Hope gathered Amy into her arms and kissed her, long and deep. They were cold and wet and covered in mud, but Amy put her arms around Hope and drew her close, closer still. Though she might live to be a hundred years old, she knew she would never again have such a lovely kiss as this one.

  “Listen, Hope…” said Chris, when Amy and Hope drew apart and lay side by side in the rain and the mud, too weary, suddenly, to move. “I’m really sorry that I was such an asshole. It was really stupid.” For a moment, Chris seemed to be at a loss for words as she stared down at her hands in her lap, playing with the end of the rope as she twirled it around and around her fingers. “Did you know that Melissa and I—”

  “Yeah,” said Hope tiredly. Chris glanced up, but Hope smiled at her. “She told me.”

  “What did she say?” asked Chris in a whisper.

  “She said that you and she were really good together,” said Hope, leaning back on her hands. “And that the two of us weren’t. And that was okay. I’m just…sorry. That you never got to…” She trailed off, bent forward and sighed, her elbows on her 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 t
he 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,” said Hope sheepishly, peering in the mirror as she ran her hands through her hair.

  Amy ignored that statement, stepped forward and put her arms around Hope’s waist. The woman raised her eyebrows with a smile as Amy pulled her forward then, kissing her quickly.

  “I thought…” she whispered, when they broke apart, and that’s when the tears came, finally, running down her cheeks and falling off of her chin in quick succession. Hope frowned, wiping the tears away gently with her fingers, holding Amy close against her. Though both of them had been thoroughly drenched, now, with their wet clothes off, they were beginning to warm up. Still, Hope shivered a little.

  “Thank you for coming after me,” said Hope gruffly, her voice low and rough and catching. Amy held her tighter, pressing her body closer to Hope’s. They stood that way for a long moment, every inch of skin touching, pressed fully against one another. Amy had never felt so connected to anyone else in her whole life.

  And then Hope kissed her again.

  It was slow, at first, the way that Hope’s lips found her own, the way that they captured her mouth—a capture that Amy wanted and returned in kind, kissing back with a sort of fevered need that she didn’t even know she was capable of. She’d been so tired a moment before, but now she was stepping forward, pressing herself harder against Hope, who turned in one smooth motion and pressed Amy’s thighs against the back of the bed and then pushed her down softly, carefully, against the covers.

  Amy stared up at Hope, who crouched over her, staring down at her for a single, aching heartbeat. Hope’s eyes were half-lidded as she gazed down at Amy through her lashes, her mouth curling up at the corners, not with her usual easy smile but a smile full of want.

  Amy’s heartbeat rushed as Hope’s fingers began to trace their way down her neck, over her shoulder blades, and down to her breasts. Amy squirmed, arching her back, desperate, as Hope dipped down her dark head to tease her, her tongue lazily making patterns over Amy’s skin, the woman shivering beneath Hope’s mouth. Amy reached up and dug her fingernails into Hope’s shoulders as Hope began to kiss her way down Amy’s stomach, her right hand and fingers moving so softly and lightly over her skin that every part of Amy’s body shivered beneath her touch.

  Hope knelt over her, then, her fingers moving across her lower stomach and then down between her legs.

  Amy let out a little cry as Hope began to rhythmically tease her, mouth capturing hers again as she let out another small moan. She hadn’t known how much she wanted this until it was all over, until they were safe, and she still had so much adrenaline in her, she didn’t know where to put it. But now her body responded in an instinctual way, all feeling, all want and need and emotion as Hope pressed her fingers down between her legs and caused Amy to cry out against her mouth, arching her breasts up to be devoured by Hope’s tongue and teeth.

  Hope tasted every place of her, a long, languorous dance that kept Amy rising on different waves of deep pleasure and ache, Amy’s fingers in Hope’s hair. After Hope was done, laying out exhausted upon the bed, Amy crawled over her, every part of her skin tingling, the waves still rolling through her as she knelt down and began to kiss Hope’s breasts, began to explore every curve of her. Hope didn’t make a sound as Amy kissed her, tasted her, caressed her, but Hope’s face, as she gazed up at Amy, was filled with such an intense love that Amy felt her heart grow.

  It was too much to hold inside. Amy kissed Hope firmly, deeply, their bodies moving together until Amy did not know where hers ended and Hope’s began.

  And outside the storm gently ebbed, the rain ceasing, the symphony of summer insects beginning to strum their evening music as the sun peeked out from behind the mountain, shining through the window and falling over the two women who lay entwined together: happy, safe and in love.

  ---

  “I thought you’d gotten lost again,” said Chris wryly, the other women laughing, as Hope and Amy stepped out of the bedroom, dry and clean and exhausted.

  “No, I was busy being found,” said Hope, grinning as she squeezed Amy’s hand. Chris made a barfing sound, but Lindsey beamed happily from her spot by the roaring fireplace, sticks of hot dogs in her hands.

  “I can’t believe it’s almost time to leave the cabin already,” said Irene quietly, as Hope and Amy found seats and sticks and began to roast their dinner. The other women fell silent, each reflecting on what the days had brought them, and reflecting on what the last few days in the woods would bring.

  “Life’s strange,” said Chris, then, quietly, all hints of joking gone from her voice. She sat at the edge of her seat, her elbows on her knees, her blonde hair combed back. She stared at Hope and Amy for a moment, cleared her throat. “Things can happen when you least expect them.”

  “That’s what makes us human,” said Irene, drawing her wife onto her lap. The chair creaked in protest beneath them as Lindsey curled against Irene, resting her head upon Irene’s shoulder.

  “You never know how much time you have,” said Lindsey, curling her arm around Irene’s neck, kissing her on the cheek. “I could never have said that I’d be here and now, you know? But I am. And I’m so happy.”

  “I am, too,” whispered Hope, squeezing Amy’s hand again. Amy’s heart soared.

  “I don’t think Melissa could have ever predicated that she’d die in that wreck,” said Chris. Her voice caught, but she cleared her throat, kept going. “But you know what? I was thinking about it last night… She wouldn’t have regretted anything. She might have wanted more time, but if she’d known that she was going to pass away then… I know Melissa. She would have been perfectly happy with how she’d lived her life. She was always happy. She took risks to be happy. She did what she had to do to follow her own path. And it wasn’t right for everyone, but it was right for her.”

  “Well, think about it,” said Irene, glancing around at the rest of the women. “If you died tomorrow, would you be content?”

  Aspen drew up her legs and leaned a little more against Shirley, who grinned. “Yeah,” said Aspen, head to the side, considering the group of women. “I would be.”

  Slowly, the heads around the circle began to nod.

  Amy cleared her throat, bit her lip. “Honestly?” she murmured, gazing down at her hand and Hope’s hand, clasped together. “Before this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes. But I can now.”

  Hope kissed her cheek, and Amy smiled, feeling the warmth of Hope against her as she held her tight and close, as the group of women around them sat in the comfort of the crackling fire, of the crickets and cicadas.

  “To the cabin. And to vacations. And to friendship,” said Chris with a grin, raising her stick and her wiener dog.

  “Are you actually toasting with a hot dog?” asked Irene, chuckling.

  “What more noble thing could I possibly toast with?” Chris shot back.

  “Well, t
o friendship,” said Lindsey, raising her hot dog stick with a huge grin.

  “And to love, in all its forms,” said Hope, glancing sidelong at Amy as she pulled the woman closer, kissing her gently.

  It was the oddest toast in the world. But also the tastiest.

  ---

  “I think a good name for her is Patches,” said Hope firmly, setting the kitten down onto her lap.

  Patches, the calico kitten, stared up at the two women and blinked slowly, beginning to purr.

  “Patches it is. She seems to like it,” said Amy with a smile, patting the kitten on the head before hoisting her last bag up and onto her shoulder. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah… This is always the hardest part,” muttered Hope, standing, holding the kitten to her chest.

  The cabin was already empty, with the rest of the women gathered in the parking lot, beginning the long litany of goodbyes and packing into their various cars, trucks and Jeeps their last suitcases, coolers and other camping paraphernalia of which, as was tradition, they’d used only about one-third. Amy and Hope could hear laughter and bright voices drifting through the open door.

  “Who knows what’ll change in a year?” asked Hope, then, glancing at Amy with a sigh. “Last year…” Her voice trailed off, but Amy knew what she’d meant to say: Who could have known that Melissa would pass away?

  “But who can know anything?” asked Amy, putting her arms around Hope. “I think we all just do the best we can with what we’re given. And we love as much as we can with the time we have,” she murmured, locking eyes with the taller woman before her.

  Hope smiled her easy smile, and—despite the mew of protest from the newly named Patches—she leaned down and kissed Amy.

  “So let’s love,” said Hope, weaving her fingers through Amy’s while cradling the kitten with her other hand.

  Arm in arm, Hope and Amy left the cabin as the sunlight filtered through the trees, as the birds sang, and as a beautiful future of possibilities opened up.