Guys, this has not been my week. Last Tuesday an old man ran a traffic light and hit my car. The accident wasn't my fault, but I got a $179 ticket for an expired tag that I hadn't noticed. So for two days I was without a vehicle while his insurance company tried to fix my car and because I'm not 25 the rental company wouldn't rent me a car. Not fair. Then, his insurance calls and tells me that the damage to my car was too drastic to repair so I was out of a car. Now, because my car had such high gas mileage and because it was such an older model (it was a 2000 Toyota Camry), they were only willing to give me $2,500.

No car. No rental car. $2,500. What?

I just spent the last week hunting down cars all over the freaking state. Do you know how hard it is trying to find a decent car for less than three grand? It's not easy! I ended up having to call out of work and missed a week's worth of classes because we literally spent ALL DAY trying to find a car EVERYDAY last week. We being my mother and me, on account of she was having to dry me around since I had no transportation whatsoever. It was so awful, you guys.

Then, on top of that, I ended up getting strep throat Thursday. Like I said, not my week.

I finally found a car Saturday. It's a 2000 Nissan that's in good condition but I ended up paying an extra $600 out of pocket to get it. So now, instead of trying to catch up on my classes, I decided to reward myself on not murdering someone this past week by writing some lovely Ellie/Forrest fluff.

Here it is, the date you've all been waiting for! Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Four

Time was passing quicker than anyone realized. The children were growing, becoming young adults, stretching into awkward, adolescent bodies. Lucy and Howard were still desperately trying to conceive a child while profits continued to pour in from the still on Turkey Cock Mountain, The County Line churning out whiskey by the gallon. The winter of 1926 was the driest winter Franklin County had weathered since before the Civil War. The county and her surrounding areas hadn't seen a single drop of rain in nearly four months and by February of the following year the land had become so dry that nearly every crop died, the soil shriveling up, useless. Lack of moisture in the mountains caused a heat wave so outrageous that all across the county creeks ran dry, lakes virtually disappearing overnight. The air was tense, thick, the sun's constant, unforgiving rays only adding to the unbearable temperatures. A lotta folks tried to hide from the heat indoors, sheltered from the sun's unyielding power. But then, a crowded room packed with bodies wasn't much better, now was it?

Ellie May seemed to be the only one that got this notion and one afternoon she slipped out back away from the commotion of her family. She dropped onto the porch swing, yanking up the folds of her dress, pooling the pale blue around her hips and waist. The sweltering heat nearly took her breath away but she didn't think she'd last another minute inside that house. Not with Howard and Cricket arguing about the best way to replace the catalytic somethin' or other on the truck. Not with Emmy singing nonstop in the corner to distract herself from the heat. Not with t-

She heard the back door swing wide but didn't bother to open her eyes. She'd finally managed to get comfortable on the swing, her head tilted back, face toward the porch's ceiling, eyes firmly shut. Finally, the blistering heat had become manageable. Besides, she didn't need to look to know that it was Forrest joining her. No one else would've dared. It wasn't that Ellie May had a temper, necessarily. More like she was a real no-nonsense kinda gal who didn't like to be bother, especially if she was already flustered. And well, who knew that better than her family?

Beads of sweat began to prickle her skin, rising over the swell of her breasts and trickling down the valley between them. She could feel it seeping through her clothes, feel it pooling in the corners of her eyes and in the crease of her forehead. "Damn heat," she hissed, furiously wiping the sweat off her face. Forrest had sauntered down the back steps and was standing in the yard, leaning against the porch railing. He shot her a weary smile. His face slick with a sheen of sweat much like her own. She pinned him with a grim stare. "You ever seen a better day to go swimming? Oh, wait, all the creeks have dried up."

Forrest said nothing but watched her. Amused. Her gaze narrowed. "This is horseshit. This heat is horseshit. I can't take it, Forrest. I'm gonna melt away!"

"You ain't gone melt," he laughed.

"Oh yeah? Just watch."

Forrest pushed himself off the railing and lifted his hand to her. "Think you can hold off on melting for just a little while? I was thinking I'd like to take you to lunch."

Ellie May groaned. "Lunch? I don't wanna go to Rocky Mount. It's too hot to move, much less go all the way to town."

Forrest quirked a brow. "Now who said anything about going to town?"

That's when she noticed the small basket in his hand. Despite her irritated mood, a smile twitched Ellie May's lips and she rolled her eyes at her hopelessly romantic boy. Who was she to refuse such a simple, kind gesture? Pushing through the hotter-than-hot heat, she rose and slipped her hand in his. Their hands were equally sweaty and as their fingers threading together, Ellie May realized she didn't too much care if his hand was sweaty or not. She was going to hold his hand, drought and heat be damned.

They took a short, easy walk through the woods over dead tufts of Johnson grass and weeds. Dirt from the dry land caked their feet and ankles by the time they reached their destination. Just up the mountain, about a half mile from where their mother and sisters were buried, a large limestone slab jutted from the earth, a nature provided picnic table. Forrest spread an ancient quilt over the rock knowing that the heat absorbed on the limestone's surface would've scorched Ellie May's bare legs. Once he'd set the blanket, his companion collapsed onto the smooth slab. Warmth soaked through the patchwork quilt instantly, baking her on both sides. She laid there listening to the still world around them as Forrest unpacked the secret contents of the basket. Squinting from the harsh sun, Ellie May studied him silently, mesmerized by the graceful, swift, and deliberate movements of his large hands as he set out their lunch. "What's this all about, Forrest? Are you trying to butter me up for bad news?"

He didn't bother to spare her a look, but grinned as he answered, "No bad news. Just thought we'd have lunch, is all."

"Mhmm." She remained unconvinced.

They took their time enjoying the meal, splayed across the rock. Forrest had prepared fat slices of honeyed ham smothered in a maple glaze. He'd also whipped together some heavily peppered mashed potatoes, a favorite of Ellie May, and a pan of sweet cornbread. Since the drought, many cold fruits had become scare throughout Franklin. As a small surprise, Forrest managed to snag a fresh watermelon off a buyer from Georgia who came through the restaurant the week before. The bright pink wedges looked like heaven to the sweltering duo.

He allowed Ellie May the first bite. The watermelon was sickeningly sweet, a delicious, cool burst. Ellie May forced herself to stifle a moan. God, she'd missed fruit. Juice from the watermelon trickled passed her lips and down her chin. With her free hand, she moved to wipe it away but long fingers wrapped around her wrist. Forrest lowered his mouth to her slick chin and throat, kissing and licking the juice off her skin. The sweetness of the fruit mixed with the saltiness of her sweat was a strange combination on Forrest's tongue. Licking his own lips, he captured her mouth in a quick kiss.

Ellie May brought the watermelon slice to his lips when they parted, an offering. He sank his teeth into the soft, pink fruit and, just like when Ellie May took a bite, juice bubbled up and out, dripping down her fingers and arm. Forrest licked them clean, too. This pattern of biting and licking continued until all that remained of the watermelon was the raw, green shell.

Tossing away the unwanted food for animal scraps, they wrapped their dirty plates and forks and placed them back in the basket. But they didn't immediately return to the farm. For a while they laid on the limestone slab, hands tightly clasped between them, their hot sides pressed together. They watched the fluffy, white clouds roll slowly across the sky. They found shapes in the clouds – a bunny rabbit, a pair of feet, a leaf, a tea kettle. Well, she found shapes. Forrest just watched. After a while a few of the clouds started to darken, a hazy sort of gray.

"See that dark one over there?" Ellie May pointed towards the north. "Looks like Howard, don't you think?"

Forrest smirked. Actually, the dark cloud resembled a bear cub but he guessed that was her point. "Lotta clouds getting dark. Maybe we'll finally get some rain."

"Pray hard," she replied, staring at the darkness looming in the distance. If they didn't get some rain soon, Papa's farm was gonna be in a hard way. Another cloud drifted by and caught Ellie May's attention. She gave a soft smile and squeezed Forrest's hand. "Look. A baby."

He spotted the baby-shaped fluff the moment the words left her mouth. "Yeah, I see it," he said. His gaze shifted to the woman lying beside him and he found the sight of her little grin far more charming than any infants in the sky. Suddenly, Forrest was drowning in a sea of images: Ellie May cuddling a snoozing baby to her chest; a child's tiny fingers wrapped around his own; a string of incoherent baby-babbles; a pair of wide, innocent, curious eyes. Their child's eyes. His and Ellie May's. Just the thought of Ellie May bearing his children was enough to send his chest seizing, his pulse racing.

Forrest knew, suddenly, that the greatest thing he would ever do in life would be to give Ellie May children of her own. She deserved nothing less. He saw the way she was with his younger siblings – her affection for them had always warmed his heart – and he'd felt firsthand the strength and power of her tenderness and love. Ellie May would be a great mother, of this he was sure.

And then he was reminded of why he'd brought her out for lunch in the first place.

"What're you thinking about so hard?" She was abruptly in his line of sight blocking the sky and clouds above. Propped up on her elbow, she hovered over him, hair cascading over her shoulders to frame his face. Curious, Ellie May poked playfully at the concentrated crease in his brow. "Something bothering you?"

Forrest smoothed his brow and reached up to twirl a lock of her hair. Ellie May chuckled quietly and lowered her face to his. She rubbed her nose back and forth across his own, an eskimo kiss Emmy called it. "You're always so damn fascinated with my hair."

Forrest grinned, the silky-smooth brunette strands slipping through his fingers. "I like it. S'nice."

"Oh, well, thank you very much, Mr. Bondurant." Ellie May placed a swift kiss on the tip of his nose and hopped of the rock. Slipping off her shoes, she took to the dead patches of grass. The short, dry blades lay mostly flat. They tickled the soles of her bare feet.

"Whatchu doin'?" called Forrest. Though he lay still, his eyes watched her every movement. Baking on the rock, they'd both become drenched in sweat and the wetness of her skin was causing her dress to cling to her body. The outline of her soft curves beckoned him but he resisted, enjoying watching her play in the grass.

"I'm hunting."

There came a humorous scoff from his spot on the limestone. "You don't say. And just what are you hunting? A ladybug…or maybe a butterfly?"

"I'll have you know, mister, that I am a champion firefly hunter and I have the jar to prove it-"

"An empty jar," he teased, but Ellie May continued, unperturbed, "But I'm hunting something far more difficult to find right now. I'm on the quest to find a four leaf clover. I've never found one before and I figured we could use some luck around here."

"Whatta we need luck for?"

She snorted, scanning the ground for the small, green clover. "I do believe that question was rhetorical. What're you still lying there for? Come help!"

Forrest protested half-heartedly, a series of quick murmurs and low grunts, before climbing down off the rock. "This is pointless."

"Then why are you helping?"

He fought a grin. "Cause I'm afraid."

Ellie May stopped short and shot him an incredulous look. "Afraid of what? Last I heard, you weren't afraid of anything. Not even death."

Forrest laughed. Yeah, he'd heard that, too. The rumor mill of the backwoods had been going ninety-to-nothin' since this Prohibition mess started; and it was bad enough before. It was mostly straight gossip, but he supposed there was some element of truth to the whispers. There were certain lengths he and his brother were willing to go to take care of and protect what was theirs. Seemed like folks were finally starting to get that. "I'm afraid of what'll happen to me if I don't help," he answered her. "Though I don't know why we're looking. There's nothing here but dead dandelions and weeds."

"Don't be such a Debby Downer. We'll find one," Ellie May insisted, poking at a tuff of grass with her toe.

But, unfortunately, Forrest was right and after half an hour of searching, they came up empty-handed. The pair returned to the rock, the sun now hanging low in the sky, and Forrest retrieved a worn copy of the Bible from within the confines of the picnic basket. He'd wrapped the King James in a cloth to keep any food or crumbs from getting on it and used the cloth to wipe his sweaty hands before opening the front cover. Ripped bits of paper stuck out the top of the Bible – makeshift page markers. Forrest thumbed through until he reached one of the markers.

"Do you remember when I was in the hospital and you and Jack would read to me?"

Ellie May said that she did and Forrest looked at her, really looked at her, and sheepishly asked, "Would you read to me again?"

He told her that he'd marked several of his favorite passages, that he thought she might enjoy them, too. Mostly, they were one or two lines of scripture - a quaint saying, a wise proverb. She didn't have to read long if she didn't want to, he explained, but he confessed that he loved listening to her voice. The gentle lilt to her words, the soft flow of her easy speaking, it soothed him in a way. Made his world calm despite the semi-permanent chaos of his life.

Her heart fluttering, Ellie May agreed.

She took the Bible from him and laid it across her left thigh, her back against the base of the mountain. Forrest lay down beside her. He propped his head on her right thigh and watched her lips form each word as she read. "Psalm 63:3 – Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you."

It was the page he'd turned to, the first lines he'd wanted her to read, and they sent her soaring. The words were in reference to the love of the Lord but could Forrest have possibly meant for her to read it in the context of their relationship? Was her love so steadfast, so better than life, that he would praise her?

She flipped to another marked page. "1 John 4:18-19 - There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because He first loved us."

And then another. "Solomon 8:6 - Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame."

As she read the marked scripture, she wove her fingers through Forrest's short hair, massaging his scalp, and reflected internally on their meaning. They were all passages about love. About God's love for us. About our love for one another. Forrest's message was certainly not subtle, but tastefully done. The carefully chosen lines sent her heart hammering, a swarm of butterflies erupting in her stomach. She knew that if she were standing, she would've grown dizzy or faint.

She didn't dare look at Forrest as she read. She knew that if she did, she would become lost to him, content to disappear in his adoring gaze. Or worse. Perhaps she'd cry at the implied proclamations of love he'd purposely asked her to read.

Finally, Ellie May turned to the last passage, "Ephesians 5:25 – Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."

Husbands. Wives. She froze.

Forrest's hand was on hers, lifting the Bible from her lap. His thumb stroked across her knuckles. "Do you know what day it is?"

Ellie May blinked and then swallowed, her throat dry but not from the blistering weather. "It's the nineteenth."

"Do you know what a month from today is?" He asked the question calmly, simply. But there was a very serious manner about him, lurking just beneath the surface. He seemed excited to hear her answer.

She bit her bottom lip. A month would be March nineteenth. March. March nineteenth – Emmy's fourteenth birthday. She sucked in a quick breath, gaze growing wide. Forrest's lips spread into a wide grin and he cupped her face in his warm hands. "Ellie, you know I love you with everything I am. You know that there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you, or to take care of you, or to give you what you need."

She covered his hands with her own, mirroring his smile. They leaned close, their foreheads not quite touching. Forrest caressed her cheeks as he tried to articulate his feelings for her. "Ellie, if you'll let me, I promise I will love you for the rest of my life. I promise that I will make you happy, that you'll want for nothing. We can get a place of our own…fill it will children…"

Her smile grew, her clutch on him tightening.

"We can grow old together. I want to be with you always, to love you and t-" The words caught in his throat, the force of his love too much. He couldn't finish. His throat had grown thick, his eyes moist, as he pictured their future together. This was so right. This was what they were meant to do. He knew it. He felt it in his heart.

Forrest looked at her, desperately trying to convey this, but he didn't have to try. Because she knew it, too. Ellie May couldn't think of a more perfect way to spend her life. After all, hadn't this been their plan all along? To be together forever in love? She bit her lip. "Is there a question somewhere in there, Forrest?"

A bashful expression consumed him. He grinned and kissed her, his lips just barely grazing her own. It was a whisper, a promise. "Ellie May, will you marry me and be my wife?"

Ellie May felt the familiar sting of tears beginning to prick at her eyes. Pure joy lacerated her heart. She felt that at any moment she would burst from the perfectness of this moment and of the man before her. The man that she adored and loved so deeply and who adored and loved her in return. But before she could speak, she felt something hit her head. She flinched from the minor impact and glanced up. Something else hit her head as she did so, and then something hit her cheek, and then her eye. She blinked rapidly and heard Forrest's booming laughter. Lifting a hand to her face, she wiped away water. Rain water. It was raining.

One drop fell. Then, three more. Then, two. Then, five and six and seven all at the same time. And suddenly they were under a massive haze of dark clouds, the sun disappearing on the horizon, caught in a torrential downpour. Forrest had proposed and the heavens opened up. The drought was over.

Laughing, they abandoned their limestone slab to bask in the rain. They were instantly soaked, their grateful laughter dying in the wind. Ellie May reached for Forrest and he hugged her, lifting and twirling her in the rain. She kissed him, arms coiling around his neck, until they couldn't breathe, their lips puffy and red. "I love you, Forrest. I love you so much that sometimes I don't know what to do with myself. Yes."

Forrest beamed. His grip tightened around her. "Yes?"

"Absolutely, yes."

I hope you enjoyed it, my friends.