It was beautiful here in the low country, as it always had been. Unlike thePiedmont area where she grew up, the land was flat, but it had the same salty,fertile soil that was ideal for cotton and tobacco. Those two crops and timber keptthe towns alive in this part of the state, and as she drove along the road outsidetown, she saw the beauty that had first attracted people to this region.
To her, it hadn't changed at all. Broken sunlight passed through water oaks andhickory trees a hundred feet tall, illuminating the colors of fall. On her left, a river thecolor of iron veered toward the road and then turned away before giving up its lifeto a different, larger river another mile ahead. The gravel road itself wound its waybetween antebellum farms, and she knew that for some of the farmers, life hadn'tchanged since before their grandparents were born. The constancy of the placebrought back a flood of memories, and she felt her insides tighten as one by one sherecognized landmarks she'd long since forgotten.
The sun hung just above the trees on her left, and as she rounded a curve, she passedan old church, abandoned for years but still standing. She had explored it thatsummer, looking for souvenirs from the War between the States, and as her carpassed by, the memories of that day became stronger, as if they'd just happenedyesterday.
A majestic oak tree on the banks of the river came into view next, and the memoriesbecame more intense. It looked the same as it had back then, branches low andthick,stretching horizontally along the ground with Spanish moss draped over thelimbs like a veil. She remembered sitting beneath the tree on a hot July day withsomeone who looked at her with a longing that took everything else away. And it hadbeen at that moment that she'd first fallen in love.
He was two years older than she was, and as she drove along this roadway‐in‐time,he slowly came into focus once again. He always looked older than he really was, sheremembered thinking. His appearance was that of someone slightly weathered,almost like a farmer coming home after hours in the field. He had the callused handsand broad shoulders that came to those who worked hard for a living, and the firstfaint lines were beginning to form around the dark eyes that seemed to read herevery thought. He was tall and strong, with light brown hair, and handsome in hisown way, but it was his voice that she remembered most of all. He had read to her
that day; read to her as they lay in the grass beneath the tree with an accent that wassoft and fluent, almost musical in quality. It was the kind of voice that belonged onradio, and it seemed to hang in the air when he read to her.
She remembered closing her eyes, listening closely, and letting the words he wasreading touch her soul: It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun...
He thumbed through old books with dog‐eared pages, books he'd read a hundredtimes.
He'd read for a while, then stop, and the two of them would talk. She would tell himwhat she wanted in her life‐‐her hopes and dreams for the future‐‐and he would listenintently and then promise to make it all come true. And the way he said it made herbelieve him, and she knew then how much he meant to her. Occasionally, when sheasked, he would talk about himself or explain why he had chosen a particular poemand what he thought of it, and at other times he just studied her in that intense wayof his.
They watched the sun go down and ate together under the stars. It was getting lateby then, and she knew her parents would be furious if they knew where she was. Atthat moment, though, it really didn't matter to her. All she could think about washow special the day had been, how special he was, and as they started toward herhouse a few minutes later, he took her hand in his and she felt the way it warmedher the whole way back.
Another turn in the road and she finally saw it in the distance. The house had changeddramatically from what she remembered. She slowed the car as she approached,turning into the long, tree‐lined dirt drive that led to the beacon that had summonedher from Raleigh.
She drove slowly, looking toward the house, and took a deep breath when she sawhim on the porch, watching her car. He was dressed casually. From a distance, helooked the same as he had back then. For a moment, when the light from the sun wasbehind him, he almost seemed to vanish into the scenery.
Her car continued forward, rolling slowly, then finally stopped beneath an oak treethat shaded the front of the house. She turned the key, never taking her eyes fromhim, and the engine sputtered to a halt.
He stepped off the porch and began to approach her, walking easily, then suddenlystopped cold as she emerged from the car. For a long time all they could do was stareat each other without moving.
Allison Nelson, twenty‐nine years old and engaged, a socialite, searching for answersshe needed to know, and Noah Calhoun, the dreamer, thirty‐one, visited by the ghostthat had come to dominate his life.
Union
Neither one of them moved as they faced each other.
He hadn't said anything, his muscles seemed frozen, and for a second she thought hedidn't recognize her. Suddenly she felt guilty about showing up this way, withoutwarning, and this made it harder. She had thought it would be easier somehow, thatshe would know what to say. But she didn't. Everything that came into her headseemed inappropriate, somehow lacking.
Thoughts of the summer they'd shared came back to her, and as she stared at him,she noticed how little he'd changed since she'd last seen him. He looked good, shethought. With his shirt tucked loosely into old faded jeans, she could see the samebroad shoulders she remembered, tapering down to narrow hips and a flat stomach.
He was tan, too, as if he'd worked outside all summer, and though his hair was a littlethinner and lighter than she remembered, he looked the same as he had when she'dknown him last. When she was finally ready, she took a deep breath and smiled.
"Hello, Noah. It's good to see you again." Her comment startled him, and he lookedat her with amazement in his eyes. Then, after shaking his head slightly, he slowlybegan to smile.
"You too ∙, the stammered. He brought his hand to his chin, and she noticed he hadn'tshaved. "It's really you, isn't it? I can't believe it " She heard the shock in his voice ashe spoke, and surprising her, it all came together‐‐being here, seeing him. She feltsomething twitch inside, something deep and old, something that made her dizzy forjust a second.
She caught herself fighting for control. She hadn't expected this to happen, didn'twant it to happen. She was engaged now. She hadn't come
here for this.., yet... Yet... Yet the feeling went on despite herself, and for a briefmoment she felt fifteen again. Felt as she hadn't in years, as if all her dreams couldstill come true.
Felt as though she'd finally come home. Without another word they came together,As if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he put his arms around her,drawing her close. They held each other tightly, making it real, both of them lettingthe fourteen years of separation dissolve in the deepening twilight.
They stayed like that for a long time before she finally pulled back to look at him. Upclose, she could see the changes she hadn't noticed at first. He was a man now, andhis face had lost the softness of youth. The faint lines around his eyes had deepened,and there was a scar on his chin that hadn't been there before. There was a new edgeto him; he seemed less innocent, more cautious, and yet the way he was holding hermade her realize how much she'd missed him since she'd seen him last. Her eyesbrimmed with tears as they finally released each other. She laughed nervously underher breath while wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, a thousand other questions on his face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry .... "
"It's okay," he said, smiling, "I still can't believe it's you. How did you find me?" Shestepped back, trying to compose herself, wiping away the last of her tears. "I sawthe story on the house in the Raleigh paper a couple of weeks ago, and I had tocome see you again."
Noah smiled broadly. "I'm glad you did."
He stepped back just a bit. "God, you look fantastic. You're even prettier now thanyou were then."
She felt the blood in her face. Just like fourteen years ago.
"Thank you. You look great, too." And he did, no doubt about it. The years hadtreated him well.
"So what have you been up to? Why are you here ?"
His questions brought her back to the present, making her realize what could happenif she wasn't careful. Don't let this get out of hand, she told herself; the longer it goeson, the harder it's going to be. And she didn't want it to get any harder.
But God, those eyes. Those soft, dark eyes. She turned away and took a deep breath,wondering how to say it, and when she finally started, her voice was quiet. "Noah,before you get the wrong idea, I did want to see you again, but there's more to itthan iust that." She paused for a second. "I came here for a reason. There's somethingI have to tell you."
"What is it?"
She looked away and didn't answer for a moment, surprised that she couldn't tell himjust yet.
In the silence, Noah felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Whatever it was, was bad.
