"With Heart to Hear"

Excerpt 1:

With her art supplies tucked in the huge pockets of her smock and an oilcloth pillow under her arm, Elise approached the cleft cut by the stream. The clear water ran ten feet across and perhaps two feet deep beneath the bridge, but the steep margins of the stream gave testament to how high the water could rise when the rains came. Trollius spotted the banks along with the yellow of a few lingering Primula veris. Scabious, tiny and delicate as violet snowflakes, clustered in the crevasses of the rocks. She loved the tenacious, surging life in plants. Even in the city, grass grew between the pavers. Persistent green shoots always returned, even after the harshest winter.

Elise took out her paper and pencils, seated herself on the pillow, and soon became absorbed in capturing every detail.

A sudden hush alerted her to an intruder.

Excerpt 2:

As she stepped out of the stream, Elise felt a faint vibration against the soles of her bare feet, subtle and varied like the rhythm of distant music. Lord Sheehan helped her climb the steep bank and when they reached more level ground Elise began to sense, more than hear, a subtle melody. Almost out of reach, many voices contributed to its whole. The bird flitting from stem to branch, the field mouse's scurrying, the clouds flowing past the distant hills all added to the song.

Her companion reached behind her and unbuttoned the two large buttons of her work smock. “Lord Sheehan?”

His hands stilled but remained where they were, holding her in a partial embrace. “Garth. And may I call you Elise?”

It was too familiar, but it felt right, fitting smoothly into the music surrounding them. She nodded. “Garth.”

He pulled the smock from her, causing the knotted hem of her skirts to fall down around her wet legs. Her petticoat stuck to the dampness, and she kicked at the clinging fabric.

“Take it off.” Garth's resonant voice matched his handsome face. It sounded familiar, though she couldn’t place it.

© 2006 Frances Robertson

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