On Bended Knee

Chapter 4

They puffed and panted their way along a wide gravel trail. The early evening breeze was cool, but they were working hard and didn't feel the chill. The sky was a rare pure blue and Lucy didn't think she'd ever seen such a beautiful day in Squirrel Falls.

"Does anyone ever call you Freddie?" she asked. She was enjoying her time with Frederick more and more now, being star struck no longer.

Beside her, Frederick winced. "Only my mother. And only because she...ignores my requests...to stop," he panted.

"But 'Freddie' is adorable!"

"Not you, too!" he exclaimed.

"Make me stop then," she called over her shoulder. She put on a fresh burst of speed. A groan echoed behind her, followed by rapidly pounding footsteps. She listened carefully to their rhythm. She'd been watching his stride, too. His knee really was stronger now. She was still pacing herself so that she didn't push him too hard, but she was panting. Not as hard as he was, she noticed with a little glow satisfaction. Or possibly perspiration.

"Picnic bench 'round another bend or two," she said, slowing until she was beside Frederick again. "Stop there for a bit?"

He nodded, his curly hair damp against his forehead. Frederick looked fantastic in his black running gear. It was as form-fitting as a wetsuit, with thin silver lines here and there that highlighted the strong planes of his lean body. If she was completely honest with herself, it may not have been his stride she kept checking out.

Lucy felt positively frumpy beside him. She was wearing running pants that were similar to his but several dozen washes older. She thought her long-sleeved lavender shirt with the tattoo-style flower print on the front was pretty cute, but it was covered by a sweatshirt so large and frayed that she'd taken to sticking her thumbs right through the seam above the cuffs.

She could have dressed up a little more, but this was her all-time favorite, most comfortable running outfit. And she insisted to herself that this was not a date, or even the preamble to a date. She'd just gotten the stars out of her eyes. If she allowed herself to think that Frederick was actually interested in her, she'd get nervous all over again, just like she would if he were any other man.

And yet, getting dressed that morning, she'd skipped over her granny panties and chosen a pair of bubblegum pink cheekies and matching under-wire bra. The cheekies were surprisingly comfortable, even in motion, but she'd been regretting the under-wire for a couple of miles, now.

They pounded down the trail for a few more minutes, then slowed to a walk when they spotted the small rest area used by the local hikers in the warm months and the cross-country skiers in the winter. The trail they were running used to be a railway track, but after thirty years of abandonment, the township converted it to a sports trail.

Frederick and Lucy collapsed side-by-side onto the picnic bench, both reaching for the water bottles they had carried with them. Lucy been working harder than she thought. When she sat down, her heart was pounding hard enough that she could feel it pulsing behind her eyes.

They sat in contented silence for a moment, catching their breath and enjoying their rest. The view wasn't terribly inspiring; the picnic area wasn't much larger than Lucy's parking spot at home, and it was surrounded by a thick tangle of brush with a few taller trees breaking through towards the sky.

"If this wasn't too hard on you, maybe we can take a run up Mount Wimpy sometime," Lucy said once she was recovered enough to speak in full sentences again.

He raised an eyebrow. "Mount what?"

"It's real name is Mount Walpole, or Wadsworth, or something, but it's only called a mountain because it's the biggest hill around. So everyone calls it Mount Wimpy. Or Mount Pimple."