Indian Paintbrush by John A. Heldt

Author:John A. Heldt [Heldt, John A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-26T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 43: CAITLIN

Santa Monica, California – Saturday, April 1, 1944

The shifting sand felt like a satin sheet. The crashing waves, a hundred yards distant, sounded like a song. Even the sky, with its setting sun and dramatic clouds, looked more like art than life. If the elements had conspired to make the getaway weekend the most romantic of Caitlin Carson's life, they had succeeded beyond measure.

Caitlin soaked it all up as she strolled hand-in-hand with Casey toward the world's most famous pier, a curio shop, and a rendezvous with Nick and Natalie, who had passed up a walk on the beach for an evening of rides, amusements, and other distractions.

"I've had a good time. Have you?"

Casey sighed.

"I have died and gone to heaven."

Caitlin laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You should," Casey said, "because I have had a good time. This has been the best experience of my life, bar none, and it's all been because of you."

"That's generous praise for someone who's done little but tag along. Nick is the one who set up this trip. All I've done is enjoy the ride."

"You've done more than that."

Caitlin stopped for a moment. She looked closely at her handsome man, who wore an Oxford shirt, rolled up slacks, and light jacket that was tied around his waist.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you have delivered this weekend. You have made a good trip great. I could not have asked for a better travel companion," Casey said. "Then again, I could not have asked for a better friend. I have cherished every minute I have spent with you."

Caitlin raised an eyebrow.

"Every minute?"

Casey chuckled.

"Well, I guess not every minute. I do recall a few moments on Camelback that I wanted to feed you to the coyotes, but I swear it was only a few. I have enjoyed our friendship."

Caitlin leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"That makes two of us."

Casey smiled but did not respond. Apparently satisfied that the girl he wanted to feed to coyotes on a grueling hike still liked him, he tightened his hold on her hand and led her slowly toward a destination neither were in a hurry to reach. He did not speak at all, in fact, until the two approached a sizeable log that had washed ashore.

"Would you like to sit a bit?"

Caitlin frowned.

"I don't know. Is that log dry?"

Casey released Caitlin's hand, walked up to the oversized driftwood, and touched it like a musician checking out the keys of a new piano. Then he removed his jacket from his waist, spread it across a flat spot on the top of the log, and grinned at his date.

"It is now."

Caitlin laughed.

"Did you learn that at Mississippi State?"

"No," Casey said. "I learned it in Scouts. My favorite scoutmaster once told me that all the knowledge in the world isn't worth a lick unless you use it to impress a girl."

Caitlin looked at him with playful eyes.

"I'll bet that's not in the manual."

"It's not," Casey said as he extended a hand, "but it's in mine.

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