Forget Not - Part 1

Good Morning FFFs!
It's a lovely, chilly morning here. Cloudy, a cool breeze from the north and the sounds and feelings of fall are just delighting me. The other day the crows were having a fit because a red tailed hawk was riding on the breeze over our neighborhood.

My week has been productive. :) I'm delighted with everything I have been able to get done or worked on. I've been feeling behind for months and now I'm finally starting to feel as though perhaps I can catch up on things and make progress on my "to do" list.

One of the things I've gotten a good bit done on, is writing. And yes, I've been working on TCR-4. Monday was the best writing day with Tuesday coming in a close second. Wednesday I was able to get a little written while teaching a writing class. :) (I know, you are probably wondering what kind of a teacher I am! My two students were each writing a short story themselves, so instead of just sitting around staring at them or the clock for 20 minutes, I figured I might as well write too. :) ) Last night I got a good bit written. That will probably be it for this week though, since tonight my grandparents will be down and we'll have a birthday party for my niece, "Pickle Puss," who is going to turn 8 next week!!!!! Then tomorrow we're all (my brother's family, grandparents and us) going to a State Park for a special day they are having.

I thought of giving you a Dr. Morgan today, but I don't know what I haven't posted and my notebook is elsewhere, so you'll have to settle for this story. I'm not sure if you'll all enjoy it, but I hope you will tell me what you think. :) I promise though, that I will give you a Dr. Morgan after this story is over. :) If you can wait.

Forget Not

Part 1

    The pond had a thin skin of ice on it, thick enough for a few geese to walk on, but certainly not strong enough for anything heavier. On the other side snow could still be seen on the slopes under the dark, bare trees. It was a grey day in February, a cold, dreary, miserable day. The kind of day no one really wants to be outside. It was just above the freezing point so the ground was sloppy and mud clung to shoes in an aggravating way.
    Carlee Schubert frowned as she tried to avoid the muddiest places along the water. “Slow down, Kevin.”
    “You should have worn boots instead of tennis shoes,” the young man retorted, stopping to wait.
    “I don’t have any. And it’s cold out here, and I would rather be home!”
    “Fine. I thought we’d go to our place and talk, but if you want to go back, we’ll go back.”
    “You don’t have to be cross about it,” the girl snapped.
    “Who’s cross? You’re the one who’s been complaining ever since you stepped outside. You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”
    The short, auburn curls quivered in indignation while the blue eyes sparked. “Of course it’s all my fault! Now I won’t go back!” And with the perversity of women, Carlee stomped forward.
    “Well, good grief, Car, make up your mind!”
    “I have! Now are you coming?”
    Kevin rolled his eyes and followed. He didn’t know what was wrong or rather, he didn’t know when it had started. “It seems like all the days are like this now,” he muttered. “Cold and gloomy.”
    “What did you say?”
    “I was talking to myself.”
    “What were you saying about me?” Carlee demanded, whirling around.
    “I said the days have been cloudy and cold.” He glanced about at the bare trees, the drab leaves and grasses, the mud and the snow. “The sun hasn’t been out for a week.”
    If he expected a reply, he was disappointed, for none came, and in silence the young couple trudged forward along the edge of the pond.
    A sudden sharp cry from across the water caused both heads to turn swiftly. The blue figure of someone tumbling and sliding down the hill towards the pond and stopped only by crashing into a tree galvanized Kevin into action. With incredible speed, considering the muddy terrain he had to cross, he sped along the pond’s edge towards the motionless figure while Carlee flew after him, not noticing that her shoes were becoming covered in mud.
    Arriving breathless as Kevin knelt beside the fallen form, she gasped, “Is she hurt? Who is she?”
    “I don’t know. I think she’s unconscious, but her pulse is strong.”
    “I— I’m all right,” a faint voice replied. “I just had the breath . . . knocked out . . . of me.” Pushing herself up on one elbow and pulling her scarf away from her face, the woman asked, “Who are you?” as she gazed at Kevin’s face.
    “Kevin Worstell.”
    “Oh, you’re Carlee’s young man.”
    “Miss Retter?” Carlee pushed forward and knelt down in the snow beside the older woman. “Should we call the ambulance?”
    “What for, Dear? I’ve got my wind back. Now if you’ll just help me up, I think I can make it home all right.”
    But when they lifted her, Miss Retter moaned and leaned heavily on Kevin. “Oh dear. I’m afraid I turned my ankle. Carlee, see if you can’t find me a stout stick while I hang on to your guy for support. Then I can make my way home.”
    “Nonsense,” Kevin broke in. “My car is just over that rise. We can get you there and then can drive you to a doctor.”
    Miss Retter smiled. “That is very thoughtful of you, but I don’t need a doctor if I can just get home.”
    Though Carlee searched for a stout stick, none were to be found and she came back looking worried. “I can’t find one.”
    Miss Retter smiled. “Don’t worry, Dear, I’ll just use this strong arm for a crutch and hobble along. You won’t mind sharing him with me for just a little while, will you?”
    Carlee shook her head.
    However, when Miss Retter tried to put the slightest weight on her injured ankle, an involuntary cry of pain caused Kevin to suddenly stoop and lift her as though she were a child. “I’ll just carry you. We’ll go faster that way.”
    “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” protested Miss Retter.
    It was Carlee who answered. “He’s a rancher from Oklahoma, Miss Retter. He’s used to roping cows, and toting hay bales. I doubt he’ll even notice.”
    Not another word was spoken until the car was reached and all were in. “Where to now?” Kevin turned in the driver’s seat and looked back at Miss Retter who had insisted on riding in the back.
    “If you’ll just be kind enough to drive me to my home, I’d be much obliged. I know it’s not broken and I’ll just wrap it up and put ice on it. I’m sure it will be all right in a day or so.”
    Kevin nodded and started the car; he knew she was referring to her ankle and not her house. Carlee remained silent as Miss Retter gave Kevin directions to her house. This they reached in a few minutes and Kevin got out to assist Miss Retter.
    “Carlee, won’t you come in too, Dear?” Miss Retter asked. “I baked some cookies this morning and I’d like to get to know your young man.”
    With a silent nod, Carlee climbed out of the car, took the house key from Miss Retter and unlocked her front door.
    Once set down in her favorite chair near the window, Miss Retter smiled brightly. “It isn’t very often that I have visitors on such a dreary day. Carlee, won’t you go and get the cookies? Use one of the pink and white china plates, Dear. And won’t you put the kettle on so we can have hot chocolate? Thank you. Oh, Carlee?”
    Carlee turned in the doorway.

What do you think is going on?

Will you be back next week for the next part?

This story is only three weeks long.