Heather in Small Heath

"Dear old world, 

you are very lovely, 

and I am glad to be alive in you." ~ L.M. Montgomery

May, 2022. Appalachian Trail, Pennsylvania.

The smell of fresh rain settled deeply into the soil and moss and permeated the air as the wind flitted between the branches of the mighty oaks and maples which lined themselves along the rocky trail. The gentle smell of the sweet honeysuckle bushes perfumed the mountain while the roar of the creek, higher and more aggressive than normal after a few-day-long rain, nearly drowned out the twittering of the robins and finches that made their homes amongst the green leaves.

Suddenly, the sound of a thud, a curse, and a scream made the forest hold its breath for a moment.

"Hold onto me!" a female voice shrieked, her hand clutching so desperately onto the man's below her to the point of her nails already drawing blood after a few seconds. "Push with your legs! Push!"

Theodore Rosewall, half of his body dangling about thirty feet above a rocky, swirling creek and seemingly moments away from great injury or death, decided that today was certainly in the running for being the worst day of his life, his new wife's panic-stricken face hurting him more than the damage she was doing to his hand and more than the sharp pain against his leg where a jagged rock had sliced it while he had slid down the slick embankment towards the edge.

"You know," the Rosewall man panted out, scrabbling at the loose soil with his fingers, scrambling to find any kind of handhold while he felt his wife's grip on his arm begin to slowly slip. "When I said that spending time with you makes my heart race, I didn't mean it quite like this."

Heather Rosewall, her body pressed against a jutting rock and her left arm clutching Theo's right, merely grunted, doing her best to tug her husband up towards her and towards safety.

"Get to your knees," she begged her husband, feeling and watching how her grip began to loosen as the seconds became longer than a minute as her fingers stiffened and cramped. "Shift around and get to your knees and push yourself up to me."

"Great idea, darling," Theo huffed, his voice hinting at slight panic even within the teasing words he spoke. "I knew I married a smart woman."

Using his arm in an army man position and wiggling his body in the same way, Theo inched his way up, wet soil clinging to his body. After another thirty seconds of grunting and groaning from both young adults, the Rosewall man was finally able to plant his knees into the embankment and push. Heather promptly stood up into a crouch and, in that, was able to use that momentum to help her husband stand and stumble onto the rock which she had found herself safely on as well.

"Oh, thank you God," Heather gasped out, clutching her husband to her desperately, his soaked shirt sticking to hers while both of their bodies trembled from the damp and the crash of adrenaline.

"Shh," Theo murmured, trailing his hand up his wife's back and ghosting his fingertips on her neck in a way he knew she found comfort in. "It's alright. I'm alive."

"You almost weren't," Heather whispered back, pulling back slightly to peer up into her husband's gray eyes, his glasses sporting spots of dirt and his wild curls askew atop of his head. "You almost died, Theo."

"I know," the Rosewall man whispered, a faint quiver to his voice as he kissed his wife's forehead while she brushed her fingertips over the smattering of freckles near his collarbone which he knew she admired. "But I'm not, and I'm not planning on leaving you for a very, very long time my dear. And I'll do my best to keep that promise."