Blue Mountain Explosion

Half an hour later, I arrived home. Nettie greeted me in the den and we embraced, longer than a casual hug and more firmly than we had held each other since the accident.

I felt her body against mine, smelled her calming scent and thought, at home is where I felt the safest in this world. The sensual touch of her loving embrace changed and I said, “Ouch, be careful there.”

“Does that hurt?” Nettie asked as she palpated my ribs moving toward

 my injured shoulder like an EMT. She laughed and ran her fingers through my hair.

“Are you looking for those three stitches now, or admiring my handsomeness?”

“I am thanking the heavens above you are still with me. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

We embraced once more, only this time our lips met. We kissed like lovers starved for affection. Moments later, our love making was just as intoxicating and passionate. Well, as physical as it could get for an injured coal miner anyways.

Afterwards, we shared the events of our day as we ate an over-cooked pot roast. We blamed one another for the roast being in the crock pot too long.

She constantly fascinated me with her ability to manage a small business and be such a success. Her creative mind attracted me to her.

Her artistic intelligence is incredibly sexy.

Nettie explained a new design she had developed for her floral arrangements used in her wreaths at her flower shop and told me the local paper would be running a story about it. “Business was brisk,” she said. “But I think most patrons wanted to visit the shop to ask about you and find out if you were healing. I sold every wreath in the shop. Now I will have to order supplies to create more. Can you believe it?”

There was nervousness in her conversation. I placed my hand over hers. She was still talking when I interrupted. “Nettie, what’s bothering you? Is there something you want to tell me?”

She looked at me with those deep brown eyes. Eyes like those have caused men to duel with a burning desire to win their approval; have

 caused men to surrender kingdoms to prove riches meant nothing without their love; compelled men to fight wars to demonstrate power and loyalty only to realize the real strength existed in the soul of those passionate brown eyes.

“I almost lost you,” she said as the tears welled up inside her. “How could you risk your life like that? What about me, us?” She put her head against my chest and started crying, her fist striking my hip all the while.

“Don’t do it again, ever.”

I realized our love was an equally intense two-way street. What else could be said?

I couldn’t deny who I am no more than being able to deny my love for her. Sometimes my decisions made at work didn’t reflect my feelings for her because I did have a tendency to put myself in dangerous situations.

I couldn’t change, and was unaware why my safety wasn’t a priority so I could be with her above all other things. We slept in a tight embrace that night with her head on my shoulder. The pain was excruciating from my tumble into the conveyor. But I owed her at least that closeness, this woman I loved so dearly.