For a brief time we scrambled about on the rocks and driftwood, looking for treasures tossed up by the storm. I felt more like myself than I had since I had returned from the Mountains, and Molly looked very much the wild maiden of my childhood. Her hair came unbraided and blew about her face. She slipped when I chased her, and stumbled into a tide pool. We went back to the blanket, where she took off her shoes and hose to let them dry by the fire. She leaned back on the blanket and stretched.
Taking things off suddenly seemed a very good idea.
Molly was not as sure of that as I. “There’s fully as much stone as sand under this blanket. I’ve no wish to go back with bruises up my back!”
I leaned over her to kiss her. “Am not I worth it?” I asked persuasively.
“You? Of course not!” She gave me a sudden push that sent me sprawling on my back. Then she flung herself boldly atop me. “But I am.”
The wild sparkle in her eyes as she looked down on me took my breath away. After she had claimed me ruthlessly, I discovered she had been right, both about the rocks, and her being well worth the bruises. I had never seen anything so spectacular as the blue sky glimpsed through the cascade of her hair over my face.
Afterward she lay more than half atop me and we dozed in the chill sweet air. Eventually she sat up, shivering, to pull her clothing back around herself. Reluctantly I watched her lace up her blouse again. Darkness and candlelight had always hidden too much from me. She looked down at my bemused look, stuck her tongue out at me, then paused. My hair had come loose from its tail. She pulled it forward to frame my face, then set a fold of her red cloak across my forehead. She shook her head. “You would have been a singularly homely girl.”