Take Care, Sara

completely stopped, sprinting for her, snow flying up behind him. He fell to his knees in the snow beside her. “What the hell , Sara? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he shouted through his helmet, the windshield of it flipped up.
    Sara looked at the wild, panicked look in his eyes and laughed harder. She didn’t know why. It seemed the sensible thing to do.
    “ Fuck! Are you hurt?” Lincoln grabbed her shoulders and shook. “Would you stop laughing and say something? Are you okay? Sara .” He fumbled with strap under her chin and yanked the helmet from her head, cupping the back of her neck with his gloved hands. “Are you okay, Sara?” Lincoln asked slowly, his voice shaking.
    Sara went quiet, the smile fading from her lips, when she saw, really saw, what Lincoln couldn’t or wouldn’t hide. He was scared. For her. And not just scared, but out of his mind scared. His lips were pressed into a thin, white line and his eyes had a haunted cast to them.
    “I’m okay, Lincoln,” she said softly.
    The relief on his face hit her hard, the tension leaving his body as he pulled her close. Lincoln was trembling. He muttered something, using one hand to tear his helmet off, tossing it into the snow, the other hand never releasing her. “I thought you were hurt. You were just lying there. I thought you’d broken something or were seriously injured. What happened ?” he said into her hair, clutching her to his chest.
    Cold air stung her cheeks, snow from Lincoln’s gloves brushed against her neck, chilling her. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I just…I wasn’t holding on tight enough.” Sara gently pushed at his chest and Lincoln let her go.
    He swallowed. “Promise me something, Sara.”
    Sara’s eyes collided with his, her lips parting at the intensity of his charcoal gaze.
    “You hold on tight from now on, so tight it hurts. Got it? Don’t let go of me, not ever. Don’t worry about hurting me, don’t worry about suffocating me, don’t worry about holding on too tight. You hold on and you never let go. You’ll only hurt me, I’ll only suffocate, if you let go. Promise.” Silver flames sparked in his eyes and Lincoln’s jaw was clenched as he stared her down.
    She was burning up from the heat of his gaze. It swept up her body and neck and into her face, warming her. He wasn’t talking about snowmobiling. Sara knew that. What was Lincoln talking about? She lowered her eyes, conflicted by the way she was responding to Lincoln lately, confused by him . She never knew what he was saying to her anymore.
    “ Promise .”
    Sara swallowed, nodding her head. “I promise, Lincoln.”
    He blew out a noisy breath, running his fingers through his hair, rumpling it more. “All right.” Lincoln stood, offering her a hand. “You ready to head back or do you want to keep going?”
    Sara took his hand and he hauled her to her feet. You ready to head back or do you want to keep going? turned into Do you want to live in the past or do you want to move forward? She stood there, flummoxed.
    “Sara?”
    “I…” Sara turned toward the way they were going. It was clear and straight and limitless. She turned back to the way they’d come from. It was rough and narrow and littered with possible barriers. Sara faced Lincoln. He stood in the middle of it all, quizzically watching her, waiting for her answer. Go back, go forward. Stay with him, come with me. Was that really what he was asking?
    “You want to go back, don’t you?” His tone was flat, as though Lincoln was disappointed, but not surprised.
    She squinted her eyes from the sun, turning her gaze to the glistening snow as spots formed before her eyes. “No. Let’s keep going.”
    “You sure?”
    Taking a deep breath, Sara nodded. “I’m sure.”
    Lincoln grinned, his teeth flashing white. “Don’t let go this time.”
    “I won’t,” she promised.
    As Sara got back on the snowmobile behind Lincoln, she wondered what she was promising she wouldn’t let go of. The past, her husband, or Lincoln?
     
     
     

11
     
     
     
    Sara was sleeping, dreaming of blue eyes and warm lips, when the pounding on the door started. She sat up on the couch, flinging the blanket off her. It took a moment for the dream to fade, and along with it, the peace she’d found in sleep; a peace Sara was never truly able to find while awake. She blinked at the door, her eyes unfocused and her brain not completely awake.
    She slowly got to her feet, rubbing her matted