Touch the Sky
Chapter 7
"How have you been?," Delilah asked. She tried to keep the concerned tone from her voice. But it was hard not to notice how thin and ragged her old friend looked. Asa always had a slender build. But this was more than that. He looked like he hadn't had a solid meal in weeks. At first Delilah was worried that the entire Farrell community was running low on food. But no one else looked like Asa. The children she saw had healthy rounded cheeks. And though no one in the village appeared to be overweight, everyone besides her father's old student looked well fed.
"I must look terrible," he said, smiling at Delilah as they walked towards the enclosure where she'd been permitted to graze her horses. She was the type of person that was unable to keep her emotions from showing plainly on her face. He always liked that about her. It reminded him of home.
"Not terrible," Delilah countered. "But you don't look like you've been taking very good care of yourself."
Asa chuckled. Self preservation had taken precedence over self care while he was locked in that cell for months. He wasn't able to do anything but survive. And even that had been questionable at times.
"Returning to the mountain after you've chosen to leave is against their rules," he explained. "They had me locked up in a cage for a while. As punishment." Delilah gasped. And he could see the fear that filled her eyes. These people seemed so kind and gentle. She couldn't imagine them locking a man up in a cage when his only crime was wanting to come home. No wonder her mother never came back to visit even though she was living only a short distance away.
"They're not going to do anything like that to me are they?," she whispered.
Asa laughed. "They don't know what to do with you," he teased. "But I don't think they plan to lock you in a cage. Not anytime soon anyway."
Delilah caught the teasing tone in Asa's voice. "That's reassuring," she replied with a soft laugh. She leaned forward against the split rail fence, smiling when Hazel and Fergus started pushing against each other as both horses attempted to get close to her at once. She rested her forehead against Hazel's as she rubbed her hands over Fergus and let him nibble at her open palm. Delilah was relieved to see that, despite the unfamiliar surroundings, her horses seemed calm and relaxed. It didn't appear that the Farrells had any other horses. But they'd let hers in to graze with a small herd of goats and sheep. And one of the larger goats must have noticed her horses were getting special attention. Because it pushed between them, lifting its front legs up onto the fence as it began to bleat. Delilah laughed, giving the scruffy animal a few scratches on the head before she shooed all three of them back out towards the open pasture.
When the animals moved away, Delilah noticed a man standing around the curve of the fence. The sight of him and his long white hair gave her a chill. She'd figured out by now that the man was Foster's father. And she was having a hard time reconciling him with the kind and gentle giant she traveled up the mountain with. He was staring directly at her. Delilah instinctively moved closer to Asa, placing her body slightly behind his. She watched the man's face contort in anger. And he cast a hateful glance in Asa's direction before he turned and stomped off towards the center of the village.
"What's his problem?," she asked, keeping her voice low and quiet even though there was no one around to hear her. Speaking ill of the man scared her a little even though she really didn't say much.
"Big Foster," Asa said, spitting the man's name like it was a curse word. "He's an asshole. That's his problem." Delilah giggled at Asa's very simple explanation and shook her head. She supposed every community had one of those. Even the Farrells.
Delilah and Asa leaned back against the split rail fence as they talked, filling each other in on the paths their lives had taken since they saw each other last. Delilah lost both her parents. A short time after her mother passed, she met her husband. And then she lost him a few years later in a farming accident. Delilah was sad to hear that things had not gone much better for Asa than they had for her. He came down from the mountain to experience what he thought would be a wildly exciting new life. But all he seemed to find was misery. People were cruel. Life below the mountain was hard. And the women he met were shallow and self centered.
"I'm glad you were able to come home to your people," Delilah said. Though they'd punished Asa for his absence, even an angry family was better than no family at all. She'd always longed for some type of connection and community. She thought she found it when she married her husband. But how fast his family and friends were to abandon her after his death made her head spin. She was truly alone in the world.
"I need a drink," Asa announced, wrapping his arm around Delilah's shoulders as they walked back towards the communal gathering area. Once they reached the edge of the village proper, he felt the change in Delilah's breathing. And then he heard her soft musical laughter. Following her line of sight, he began to laugh along with her when he saw what she was reacting to. Lil' Foster had one foot up resting on a picnic bench. He was slurping back a mason jar of Farrell wine while a small crowd of the other men cheered him on. Once he swallowed the last drop he let out a loud roar that made the nearby women squeal.
"So much for staying in bed," Delilah quipped, shaking her head at the big man. Asa could sense the subtle change in her tone of voice when she spoke. And when he looked down, he saw the light glimmering in her pale eyes. Delilah had a thing for his giant behemoth of a cousin, he'd bet his only good pair of shoes on it. And when Lil' Foster looked over, his face lit up into a giant beaming smile the moment he spotted her. Asa grinned to himself, thinking that this was going to get real interesting real quick.
Remy darted across the clearing, rubbing his body along Foster's legs before dropping to the ground in front of him. Delilah watched as Remy bared his stomach, paddling at the air with his giant paws when Foster reached down and gave him a scratch. Delilah followed behind her dog, snapping Remy before he could start jumping all over the rest of Foster's cousins. It seemed that having a trained dog was something of a novelty in the Farrell community. And now that they knew Remy was friendly, most of them were eager for some interaction with the animal.
"Have a drink with me," Foster offered, reaching for the bottle on the table and refilling his glass. Delilah felt like she ought to scold him for his behavior. She knew he ought to be resting rather than getting himself drunk. But she found herself just smiling at him instead. He extended his hand, offering her a sip from his glass.
People in town told all sorts of stories about Farrell wine. Most of them were pure bullshit. But Delilah heard a few from her mother that she believed. Those were the ones that made her hesitant to take a sip from the glass. Her mother said the wine was blessed with magic. It had the power to make a person see the truth.
"What's in it?," Delilah asked.
"Fairy magic," Foster teased, gently pressing the jar into her hand.
Delilah lifted the glass. She sniffed at it first, trying to get a feel for how strong the drink was. She wasn't a stranger to drinking. But she usually stuck to beer or maybe a basic mixed drink if she was feeling fancy. The wine smelled sweet, almost fruity. It didn't smell like hard liquor at all. Delilah took a tiny sip, ignoring the laughter and encouragement from the people that were gathered around the table. The wine tasted better than she expected. It had an unusual aftertaste that reminded her vaguely of black licorice. But it wasn't bad. After a slightly larger sip, she decided it might even be good.
"You keep that glass," Foster suggested. "I'll get another one for myself." Delilah nodded, taking another tiny sip. She wanted to pace herself so that she could feel what the drink was doing to her before she consumed too much of it.
As Delilah took a seat at the table, more people began to arrive. The tables around hers slowly filled. And then some women arrived with platters of food. She was given a shallow bowl and a well worn spoon. Delilah turned her head to the sky when the Bren'in said the blessing. And then she followed the example of the rest of her table and dug in. The food was rustic and delicious. And from the unusual flavor, Delilah wondered if the large chunk of roasted meat on the platter belonged to the bear she and Foster brought up the mountain. She only hoped it wasn't goat. Goats were too close to horses in her mind for her to feel right eating them.
Delilah talked and ate, licking her fingers and tossing choice tidbits down to Remy even though she usually didn't allow her dog to beg from the dinner table. She laughed at some of the silly questions people asked her about life below the mountain. They seemed fascinated with whatever Foster already told them about the small farm she lived on. And she wished she could invite them all for a visit, though she was quite sure that would be very much frowned upon by the Farrell powers that be. Delilah was enjoying the boysterous conversation so much that before she knew it there was an empty plate and an empty mason jar in front of her.
A large fire was lit. Music started up. And despite the promise she made to herself about being a quiet observer, before long Delilah found herself beating on a beat up bongo drum along with the band as she belted out the lyrics to the Jeremiah was a bullfrog song. They laughed like crazy at her. And finally one of the other musicians pulled the drum away from her and encouraged her to dance with him.
Most the night would remain a blur to her for the rest of her life. But she remembered dancing until her feet hurt and she had to kick off her boots before she could dance any more. Delilah wasn't sure if the magic wine ever made her see the truth. What she mostly remembered was feeling lighter and happier than she could remember being since before her parents died. She had no idea how long she stayed at the party. But Delilah remembered leaving it. Because suddenly the warmth of the fire was gone. Her bare feet were cold against the hard packed dirt. But that only lasted for a brief moment before she was warm again.
After a night of drinking, Delilah would normally wake up with a hangover. But she felt nothing short of amazing when she finally began to stir from her sleep. She didn't know where she was. But oddly, that didn't scare her. She was warm and comfortable and safe. Remy was sleeping behind her, his large body pressed against hers through the blankets. It was the feel of someone's bare skin on hers that finally woke her all the way up. Delilah lifted her head off the broad chest it was resting on. She rubbed at her eyes, wondering if she was still asleep and dreaming. Because no matter how drunk she got, she was sure she'd remember bedding the giant that had his arm wrapped around her. Foster's blue eyes flickered open. But only for a moment. He adjusted his arm, pulling her back into the comfortable snuggling spot she'd moved from. He stroked his hand over her long dark hair, encouraging her to settle back down.
"S'early," he slurred. "Go backta sleep."
Delilah briefly considered listening to him. She was still tired. And had no real desire to escape his gentle hold on her. But she was curious and maybe even a little concerned about what might have happened between them the night before. Especially since she was completely naked under the blankets.
"What happened?," she asked, scrubbing at her face as she tried to wake herself the rest of the way up. "How did I get in here?"
Foster rolled towards her, wincing a little when his movements pulled at the wound under his ribs. He wrapped both his arms around her. And before he answered, he pressed a soft kiss into her hair. Delilah snuggled into his embrace, humming as she hugged him back.
"Asa said you had too much wine. He was worried you might wander off, so he brought you in here."
"Do you know what happened to my clothes?," Delilah asked.
"Clothes?," Foster repeated, sounding slightly confused. "You were wearing them when you got into bed. Everything except your shoes." Foster adjusted his hold on her. Rubbing his hand down her back, he felt nothing but her soft skin. Stopping just short of Delilah's rounded backside, he traced his hand over the curve of her hip and down over her bare thigh instead. "Maybe you got hot in the night and took them off?," he suggested. Foster moved his hand back up. And then he gripped the edge of the blanket and lifted it, intending to confirm with his eyes what he just felt with his hand.
"Hey," Delilah protested, jerking the blanket back down. Foster chuckled softly as he moved his hand back under the blankets. His touch was feather soft. And when his fingers trailed down her back for the second time, Delilah could feel her body starting to respond. She wanted him. Badly. But she was afraid. Not of the physical act. But of the heartbreak that was sure to follow it when she left and Foster stayed. After everything she'd been through, she wasn't sure she could bear it.
"I have to leave today," Delilah said, catching Foster's hand and stopping it from moving down over her hip.
"I know," he replied, wrapping his arms around her and nearly crushing her against his chest.
"We'll have to say goodbye. And I don't want to make it harder than its already going to be," she whispered. Delilah wasn't sure about the Farrell wine making her see the truth. But the after effect seemed to be telling the truth. Because she'd already said more than she meant to. Her heart ached. And she was sure Foster could hear it in her voice and feel it in the way she was holding him.
"It'll be hard for you to say goodbye? To me?"
Delilah pulled back slightly, looking up at Foster's face in confusion. There was so much disbeleif in his tone. Like he was completely shocked that anyone might care enough about him to miss him. Delilah nodded her head. She was afraid to speak after how much she already said. Saying anything more was just going to make it worse. Foster had a beautiful life here. Family, friends, and from what she saw, a beautiful woman that seemed to care a great deal for him. Deiliah couldn't stay. And it would be wrong for her to ask him to leave.
Delilah lifted her hand from under the heavy blankets, cupping his face with it. She was lost in his eyes. And in that moment, she knew her resolve was crumbling. Her eyes were dark with desire and she was suddenly willing to accept the pain she knew would come after if it meant she could have him. She would have let Foster do anything he wanted to her in that moment. But all he did was dip his head down and kiss her. The kiss was gentle and chaste as far as kisses went. But she felt it all the way down to her toes.
"Goodbye Delilah," he whispered. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressing against hers. Delilah took a deep breath. Then she forced herself to do what she knew needed to be done. She elbowed Remy off the bed and extracted herself from Foster's arms. He stared up at the ceiling of his cabin while she pulled her clothes on. Once she was dressed, Delilah practically bolted for the door. She opened it, letting Remy out. But she was unable to cross the threshold without turning back.
"Goodbye Foster."
By the time she got the door closed behind her, the tears were running down her cheeks. Delilah wiped them away, smiling at little through them when she realized that someone had been kind enough to set her boots and socks outside the door to Foster's cabin. The Farrells certainly weren't the thieves and marauders that the people of Blackburg liked to make them out to be. Delilah found her bags in the communal pavilion where she left them. And by the time she got her horses saddled and ready to go, Asa and his younger cousin Hasil were awake and ready to lead her down the mountain.