his head at me. “Probably a smart thing I didn’t
stuff a roll of duct tape into my backpack.”
Ian swiftly pulls me onward, tightly holding my hand. We
start the climb. He hasn’t answered my question yet. “So, back to my
question—you went east to Harvard?”
“Yes, I went to Stanford University and then off to Harvard
Law School.”
“Wow,” I say, starting to huff through my words as my legs
strain on the incline. “I went to Redford High in Michigan, and only took
twenty hours at a community college. Definitely not as smart as you.”
“Hey, there are a lot of dumb-asses that come out of
Harvard. Education doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a better person,” he says
emphatically. He glances over at me. “Don’t feel intimidated around me, Rachel,
about my education. It’s not that big of a deal, believe me.”
I’m amazed there is not an observable trace of arrogance
about him. There must be something wrong with this guy somewhere! I’m so
intrigued that I want to find it, so that I can feel better about myself. Sick
thought, but true.
Ian drops my hand and starts to climb faster ahead of me.
I’m beginning to have trouble keeping up with him on the asphalt path that
meanders back and forth. At last we reach the bridge, which spans the lower
falls. The tallest waterfall looms in front of us, and the shortest drops
behind us into the pool below. It’s still early enough in the year that the
runoff is heavy. The sound of pounding water fills my ears.
I’m panting like a dog, while I let the invigorating spray
touch my face. After staring into the pattern of the cascading falls, I look
for the apparition.
“Have you ever seen the Indian princess ghost in the water?”
I wonder if he knows the legend.
“You mean the princess that jumped from the top of the
falls?” He tilts his head back and looks upward.
“Yeah, the sacrifice lover story. Kind of a sappy one,
actually,” I reply in a sarcastic voice. He looks surprised over my statement,
and then gazes back into the water as if he’s waiting for her to appear.
“No, I’ve never seen her ghostly figure. Have you?”
“No. Probably because I’m not much of a romantic about
legends and all that. Find them hard to believe.” My face turns sour, but I
don’t care.
“Not a fairytale girl then, huh?”
“You kidding? Every prince I’ve ever met turned out to be a
frog.”
I let go of the railing and walk away. My comment probably
bugged him, but I don’t want to talk about it. A slight irritation over my past
rotten love life will spoil the moment, if I do. Swiftly, I turn around and
walk backward a few steps and look at him standing there gawking at me with a
dumfounded look upon his face.
“Come on, I’ll race you to the top, Harvard man ,” I
tease him. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Deal,” he says, taking a giant stride toward me with a
determined expression.
We start the climb up the side of the mountain together on
the dirt and rock path. Immediately, I curse myself for not being in better
shape. The strain on my calf muscles is killing me, and I’m huffing like an old
sailor. By the time we make it halfway up the climb, it’s beginning to get
embarrassing.
“Need to rest?”
He stops for a minute and looks at me. My face is sweating. Great,
now my makeup will run. “Whew! I’m a bit out of it,” I admit. “Just a minute to
catch my breath.”
Another couple passes on the right. They’re climbing at an
insane speed, but they both look buff and in shape.
“Do you work out?” I huff, trying to regain my strength. No
doubt, he’s got six-pack abs underneath his tee shirt.
“Yeah, sometimes. Here, let me get you some water.”
He swings his backpack off his shoulder, unzips it, and
pulls out a bottled water. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn’t just hand it to
me. Instead, he untwists the white top and then places it in my outstretched
hand.
I bring it to my lips and gulp a few times to let
stuff a roll of duct tape into my backpack.”
Ian swiftly pulls me onward, tightly holding my hand. We
start the climb. He hasn’t answered my question yet. “So, back to my
question—you went east to Harvard?”
“Yes, I went to Stanford University and then off to Harvard
Law School.”
“Wow,” I say, starting to huff through my words as my legs
strain on the incline. “I went to Redford High in Michigan, and only took
twenty hours at a community college. Definitely not as smart as you.”
“Hey, there are a lot of dumb-asses that come out of
Harvard. Education doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a better person,” he says
emphatically. He glances over at me. “Don’t feel intimidated around me, Rachel,
about my education. It’s not that big of a deal, believe me.”
I’m amazed there is not an observable trace of arrogance
about him. There must be something wrong with this guy somewhere! I’m so
intrigued that I want to find it, so that I can feel better about myself. Sick
thought, but true.
Ian drops my hand and starts to climb faster ahead of me.
I’m beginning to have trouble keeping up with him on the asphalt path that
meanders back and forth. At last we reach the bridge, which spans the lower
falls. The tallest waterfall looms in front of us, and the shortest drops
behind us into the pool below. It’s still early enough in the year that the
runoff is heavy. The sound of pounding water fills my ears.
I’m panting like a dog, while I let the invigorating spray
touch my face. After staring into the pattern of the cascading falls, I look
for the apparition.
“Have you ever seen the Indian princess ghost in the water?”
I wonder if he knows the legend.
“You mean the princess that jumped from the top of the
falls?” He tilts his head back and looks upward.
“Yeah, the sacrifice lover story. Kind of a sappy one,
actually,” I reply in a sarcastic voice. He looks surprised over my statement,
and then gazes back into the water as if he’s waiting for her to appear.
“No, I’ve never seen her ghostly figure. Have you?”
“No. Probably because I’m not much of a romantic about
legends and all that. Find them hard to believe.” My face turns sour, but I
don’t care.
“Not a fairytale girl then, huh?”
“You kidding? Every prince I’ve ever met turned out to be a
frog.”
I let go of the railing and walk away. My comment probably
bugged him, but I don’t want to talk about it. A slight irritation over my past
rotten love life will spoil the moment, if I do. Swiftly, I turn around and
walk backward a few steps and look at him standing there gawking at me with a
dumfounded look upon his face.
“Come on, I’ll race you to the top, Harvard man ,” I
tease him. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Deal,” he says, taking a giant stride toward me with a
determined expression.
We start the climb up the side of the mountain together on
the dirt and rock path. Immediately, I curse myself for not being in better
shape. The strain on my calf muscles is killing me, and I’m huffing like an old
sailor. By the time we make it halfway up the climb, it’s beginning to get
embarrassing.
“Need to rest?”
He stops for a minute and looks at me. My face is sweating. Great,
now my makeup will run. “Whew! I’m a bit out of it,” I admit. “Just a minute to
catch my breath.”
Another couple passes on the right. They’re climbing at an
insane speed, but they both look buff and in shape.
“Do you work out?” I huff, trying to regain my strength. No
doubt, he’s got six-pack abs underneath his tee shirt.
“Yeah, sometimes. Here, let me get you some water.”
He swings his backpack off his shoulder, unzips it, and
pulls out a bottled water. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn’t just hand it to
me. Instead, he untwists the white top and then places it in my outstretched
hand.
I bring it to my lips and gulp a few times to let
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