Squinting, Rose tilted her head back. She held one hand over her eyes as a shield. "I don't see it," she said. "Are you sure that's what it is?"
Jack held up his hand and motioned to the spot next to him. "Come here and I'll show you." She dropped to her knees. The thick flannel blanket was warm from the sun. Jack looked up at her, a smile playing about his lips. "Won't find any clouds here," he said. "Got to look at the sky."
She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his nose. "I can't find the elephant anyway."
He chuckled quietly. "They're elusive animals."
She stretched out next to him. "But I do see a horse."
"Where?"
She pointed at the sky. "There. See it?"
"Yeah, I see it." He slipped his hand into hers. "Still want to ride horses on the beach?"
Her eyes lit up. "Do you really mean it? Can we go?"
"Of course we can go. We said we would, didn't we?" He took on an exaggerated haughty tone. "How else can I teach you to ride like a man?"
Laughing, she said, "And chew tobacco like a man."
"I could show you that right now."
His answer caught her off guard. "What?"
He nodded. "Come on. I'll show you how." He stood up.
She stared up at him. "Jack, I couldn't—"
He reached for her hand. "You said that about spitting like a man." He helped her to her feet. She sucked in her breath as her weight settled on her injured leg. The swelling was gone, but the bruise had barely begun to fade. "You okay?" he asked, steadying her.
"I'm fine." She smiled. "It's just still a bit sore."
Jack insisted they walk slowly. Rose got in a half-hearted protest before quickly giving up. What was the point? They both knew her leg hurt. With a sigh, she let herself sink against Jack.
"Well, I love you, too," he said, putting an arm around her waist.
"I love you, Jack." She tilted her head up. His blue eyes were all she could see. "I love you so much."
Jack tried to reply, but couldn't. The words caught in his throat. It was all so overwhelming. Here was this beautiful, wonderful girl—woman, he corrected himself. The most amazingly, astoundingly, wonderful woman that I've ever known. And she loves me. And she married me. He pulled her closer and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
*****
"Okay, so you cut it like this." Jack cut off a hunk of tobacco with his pocketknife. "See?"
Rose nodded. "I see. Can I try?"
"Sure."
She gingerly held the knife in one hand and the tobacco in the other. "So, I just…like that?"
"Exactly like that."
She threw her head back. "This isn't so difficult," she said haughtily.
"Wait until you chew it."
Her smile dimmed. "What is it like?"
"You just have to try it."
Rose held the plug of tobacco up to her nose and sniffed. She grimaced. "It smells awful! Men actually enjoy chewing this?"
Jack spoke slowly, in an exaggerated country accent. "Yes, ma'am, we do." She raised an eyebrow. "At least, some men do," he added in his normal voice.
"Do you?"
"I like smoking better," he admitted.
She laughed. "I think I do, too."
"Well, then," he said, reaching into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out a moment later, he held a cigarette paper. "Shall we?"
Rose watched his hands while he rolled the cigarette. His fingers moved so deftly, breaking up the tobacco and dropping it into the paper. He made it look so easy, the way he held it between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it in what looked like one quick movement. With a flourish, he produced a box of matches.
"Will you do the honors?"
"Thank you." Her tone was curt, but her eyes were laughing. She leaned forward, lips parted slightly.
He carefully placed the cigarette between her lips. "Here you are, ma'am," he said in a mock deferential tone.
Her heart skipped a beat as he lit the cigarette. Someone should draw his hands, she thought.
They leaned against a tree, the blanket spread out beneath them, and passed the cigarette back and forth. When it was gone, Jack rolled another. They didn't talk. Their shoulders were pressed together. Their clasped hands rested in the small space between their legs.
After the third cigarette, Rose said, "I've never smoked so much at one time before."
"I have." Jack blew a smoke ring. "Not often," he added. "Just sometimes at night, when I'd be laying on a bench looking up at the stars…that's what I was doing the night we met."
Rose took a drag. "You were?"
"Yeah." A faraway look came into his eyes. "I was just laying there thinking about…well, nothing, really, and then suddenly there you were. Or there you went, I guess I should say."
Rose scooted closer to him. "Can you imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been on deck that night? I might be dead."
"You wouldn't have jumped."
"I could have fallen trying to climb back over," she pointed out. "And no one would have been there to help me."
He squeezed her hand. "Doesn't matter. I was there, and I'll always be there."
*****
Across the park, Matilda was trailing behind her Aunt Una and her friend Celia. When I said I wanted to go for a walk, this is not what I had in mind, she thought. Una was blathering on about something—Matilda didn't know what—and Celia was nodding enthusiastically. Every so often, she would interject a "Quite right" or a "Such a pity". Matilda was beginning to wonder if she knew any other words.
Staying inside would have been preferable to this, she thought with a sigh. "Aunt Una," she began.
Una paused mid-sentence. "Yes, Matilda?"
Before Matilda could continue, a sudden gust of window blew her hat right off her head. "Oh, dear!" she cried.
Una and Celia watched in horror as she began to run after the hat, which was already being carried off by the wind.
The hat landed at Jack and Rose's feet.