Jen's Legacy.

He did not object. There was no conflict in his mind about what had passed here with Jen, five years earlier and what would also take place here again, five years to the day, later, and with Claire. Jen and Claire were growing to be the same woman in his thoughts and feelings.

“We don’t have anything to leave.”

“We do, Royce. You could cut another piece from around my swimsuit top.”

It was still in the bottom of his pack.

“I can’t wear it, and it’s not recoverable. We may as well use it for something worth-while. We could tie that here, and make our own vows if you would like to do that. I also think you should recover that ribbon that Jen left and keep it with her ashes as a memento, and it shall be with us wherever we are, and wherever we go.”

Jen was as much a part of her life now, as she was of his.

He had been ready to lose everything, including Jen’s ashes into that gorge—taken with him, never to be found again— and would have done, but for his meeting Claire and what she had done to engage him. They could write a different ending to that potential tragedy, and had already made a good start on it.

They could leave their own marker, but with another addition to it, as he and Jen had also done.

He smiled mischievously at her.

“To be most effective, and to gain the better cooperation of the spirits and the gods of this place, there is another ritual that goes along with the vows and the tying of that cloth. It is not widely publicized, but is nonetheless well-known in many circles.”

She waited, suspecting what he would suggest. She already knew enough of what drove him along and fired up most young men when they were with a woman they loved.

“After lovers say their vows and tie their markers, the story is that they will be doubly blessed by the gods, if they were to make an additional offering into the river.”

“What kind of an offering?” She didn’t really need to ask.

He smiled at her.

“They make love in the middle of that bridge, and make a personal offering to the gods.”

She knew that smile and could guess what was coming.

“We make love there, as the story requires, and we wait.”

“It will be just a matter of time before I slip from you, and then it will be unavoidable that…” He didn’t need to spell it out...” and the excess will trickle from you, as I usually do, and fall into the river below if we are positioned just right, at the edge. That will do it.”

She blushed and laughed.

“You made that up. You only want to make love to me again.”

“Can you blame me? I’ll always want to make love to you, Claire, but I’m being honest, even if that little romantic addition, is not widely known.”

He took her hand. “Come on. I’ll dig out your swimsuit, cut more off it as you suggested, and we’ll tie that in the middle as we say our vows. Then, if no one else comes along we’ll see about getting that other step behind us too. If you like.”

She was game for anything with him.

She’d lost all of her fear now, and walked carefully across with him, gaining confidence with each step, even if it did sway slightly. It had been sturdily built. She turned to take a picture of those ribbons, and of that distinctive green ribbon. She’d take another photograph of their own marker and make a note in her journal about that other, more intimate step between them too.

She was slowly learning more about what drove a male along. Everything with Royce seemed to involve making love to her. Not that she minded. It was new for her, but her view on most things had already changed, or was in process of changing.

She watched as he dug down into his backpack and retrieved that swimsuit top, cutting around it with his knife to take off a complete circle of the material, then cut across it to make a wide ribbon about two feet long and an inch wide as he looked up at her, smiling in anticipation.

She could sense his growing excitement.

He took her left hand in his right hand as they walked out together onto the bridge, tying their wrists together by looping that material around them both; another part of the symbolism of binding themselves together.

Near the middle they stopped, undid that green ribbon that Jen and he had placed there earlier, looping it through his belt to secure it, and they turned to face each other as they cooperated to wrap that piece of cloth round and round that hawser, also tying it securely.

He stood facing her and looked into her eyes as he stroked the side of her face and spoke to the spirits of this place.

“I, Royce Healey, promise that I will love and protect this woman, Claire Jeannine Prescott, to the best of my ability from this moment forward. I entrust her with my love, my life, my future, and all that I will ever be.”

He leaned in and kissed her, as she cleared her throat, and spoke her own vows.

“I, Claire Jeannine Prescott, give this man, Royce Healey, my unreserved love, my future, my body; everything that I am or am likely to become in this life. I promise to bear his children and to continue to honor the memory of his first love, Jen O’Reilly Shelby, as if she were my own sister.”

She moved closer to him as he undid her shirt, parting if from her body as she brought his hands up to her breasts to caress, as she began to open his shorts and went after him, taking him by surprise with her determination and eagerness. They moved together as she raised her foot onto the middle hawser, her fear of earlier, completely gone, and brought him closer to her, held him, guided him, as he bent his knees, and then raised himself under her, pushing the head of his erection into her vagina to get him started as they leaned against the side, kissing each other. She flexed her hips to get him deeper, feeling him push, in turn as he lifted her almost off the ground.

Anyone could have approached and been watching them in shock, seeing what they were obviously doing to each other, but they no longer cared.

They were like that for no more than three minutes as they slowly writhed together with unusual gentleness, though with controlled force, as he strove to get closer and deeper into her, lifting her, pulling at her cheeks, separating her more as he drove harder and with more force into her, gripping the rope behind her to stop them moving apart by even the thickness of a piece of paper.

The end point was predictable by now. One very hard push as he quivered and froze, letting out a long-drawn-out sigh and a groan as he came, over the next minute; his eyes closed, his breathing irregular, still pushing to be sure that he had indeed reached the end of it all, but not wanting to believe it.

Her arms were around him, pulling him closer to her, her fingers digging with delicious pain into his back as they continued to kiss.

They stood just like that, not wanting to move, for a further two minutes as they both slowly came down from such lofty heights.

When he reluctantly withdrew from her, gasping at the sudden shock of it after that wondrous warmth of her welcoming body, he continued to hold her close and to pull her to him.

Her foot was still on the middle hawser, wondering if he would go back into her again as he usually did, never wanting to leave her for long.

She sensed other changes, feeling the growing discomfort as he began to dribble from her, setting her laughing, feeling a tickling sensation, seeing drops of him drop from her vagina to disappear into the white water below them as they both recovered their breath, laughed and kissed.

‘Doubly blessed’. But she already was, with twins.

Only then did she look around, thankful to see that they were still alone, and that no one was applauding them.

“We should come here every year, Royce, and repeat this.”

“We will, my love. We will. We certainly will.” He sounded sure of that.

She took a photograph of their marker and several of him, and then returned slowly to the bank, turning to take other photographs before they continued to walk to where they would camp that night, back from the thunderous roar of the river. She felt more of Royce running from her, down her leg like an irritating trail of insects. She’d have to get used to that.

That was another milestone she’d never dare to tell her gran about.

They made camp ten minutes later, where they could not so clearly hear the angry sounds of the river tearing its way through the gorge.

Royce got a fire going, and then laid out his sleeping bag for them both on the bed of sand before bringing in enough wood for the night and to prepare their evening meal as she got started on things. It would be a cold night, so they would retire early, and would not need to get out of it again until late in the morning. After making love again, of course.

It would be an easy walk into Culver from here, where she could phone her grandmother again, now that her call was expected.