First Gear - Eve Langlais Page 0,9

held snow as the books claimed. Even if they did, he’d wager it wasn’t the pristine kind you could eat but the grayish version that meant the pollution found it and stuck.

Onaria joined him, wearing a cardigan of her aunt’s, yet the biting wind had her hugging herself. “Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Very. Have you ever climbed them?”

She shook her head. “Auntie would have had my hide. Besides, there’s nothing to see.”

He noticed a network of bells strung across the outcropping, with more bells dangling over the top rim of the fence.

He pointed. “What is that?”

“Warning system.” A wide gaze on his part led to Onaria laughing. “Sometimes the things that live past the stone get hungry.”

He blinked. “But Geoff said—”

She interrupted. “That nothing is alive?” She snorted. “Geoff is a government official, and their standard line is nothing to see, move along.”

“But if there are animals, then that must mean there’s some sort of food.”

“Does it?” She arched a brow. “Maybe once upon a time there was, but I should mention that Auntie hasn’t had a bell go off since I was a little girl. Whatever lived in those mountains is probably long dead, too. The calamity that struck the farms and few forests might have taken longer to hit out here at the edge of civilization, but it would be foolish to think there’s salvation amongst those peaks.”

As he gazed upon them, it was almost as if he could hear a voice, a whisper really, urging him to check out the mountains. Not being the brave type of explorer that existed in adventures, Jool turned away from them. Onaria was right. There was nothing amidst those rocks.

Besides, he had everything he needed right here. A roof over his head, food, and Onaria, the woman he loved.

If only he had the words to say what was in his heart. But the moment he thought about telling Onaria how he felt, his mouth dried up, his heart raced, and he couldn’t speak.

It was while they sat on the porch that night, staring at the stars seen through a thin film, that she coughed. Not the first time. She’d had a few tiny fits on the train, as had he.

This time proved more than a gentle expelling of breath. She hacked, her entire body spasming as she heaved and choked. By the time she finished, she gasped for air and couldn’t hide the blood she’d captured on her sleeve.

“How long?” he asked quietly.

“The blood started only yesterday,” she replied.

“And you didn’t tell me.”

Her shoulders rolled. “I didn’t know how. I hoped…” She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish. She’d hoped that the fresher air might extend her time.

But as with everything else in their lives, they weren’t so lucky. A bomb ticked inside her, which was why there was no time to waste.

He slid to a knee, and her mouth rounded. “Jool, what are you doing?”

Clasping both her hands in his, he rushed through the words he’d been thinking on for some time. Cursing himself for lacking the bravery before to say them. “You and I have been friends for a long time. And I’ve cherished our moments together. But I want more than just friendship, Onaria. Marry me.”

“I’m dying, Jool.”

“We all are. Which is why we shouldn’t waste a moment. I love you, Onaria. For whatever time we have left, be my bride.”

She blinked at him. “Who will marry us?”

“We will. The sun in the sky shall be our witness. The wind shall hear our vows. Please, Onaria, be my wife.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded before managing a blubbery, “Yes. Oh, Jool, I love you, too.”

4

They married at dawn the next morning, with him wearing an old suit they managed to find hidden in a trunk. Dusty and creased, the style was way out of date, but he looked quite smart. She managed to find a frock and a shawl, the pink fabric faded. She left her hair loose, a rarity, given her nursing duties required she have it pulled out of the way. The fluffy curls framed her face.

“You look beautiful,” he said, the sincerity shining in his words and eyes.

Hands clasped, they stood in the yard, the mountain as their sentinel, and spoke the vows in their hearts. And for a brief moment, as they kissed, the sun managed to pierce the haze and shine on them.

Surely a sign their luck would change.

Their wedding night seemed too far for a couple who’d been shyly dancing