Keep My Heart- Prologue

Keep My Heart- 23

"Don't confuse your path with your destination. Just because it is stormy now does not mean you aren't headed for sunshine."

 -Unknown

Personally, I looove this quote! I think it has a lot of depth. :) Please remember to vote and comment! Wattys, remember? Sorry I haven't updated much in the last month! School has wiped me out.

Nine days passed. Everyday was painfully hot, and the sun was merciless and white. The Hawkes survived on fruit and water, waiting everyday for a ship to come. There was even a small signal fire that burned with greenery from the jungle along the beach. In the evening, Adam piled on leaves for several minutes and then sat with Olivia in the foamy, cool water of the surf. During the day, the water was as warm as blood, but as the darkness fell, it was a glorious fifteen degrees cooler. On those nights they stared at the black of the reflection-less sky that was studded with glimmering stars. One night, the moon had been full and floated like a white ball over the water.

The ninth day dawned and was as heavy as the others. Olivia opened her eyes, head already pounding from the incessant heat, hands and feet, though bare, already dry and uncomfortable. The space a few inches from her was vacant, and so she knew that her husband was awake. For a moment, she laid there, overheated and breathed. There was a low, dull ache in her back and she groaned at the knowldge of it. The sand beneath her was not as soft as the feather bed she was accomodated to back home in Hawke's Vale.

Several minutes later, with an  aching head and back, she made her way out of the crude shelter, and grimaced at the bright glitter of the sun. The only sound about was the rush of the water, and she wondered where Mr. Hawke was. Often he rose and bathed before morning light, and went about gathering fruit or other things. There was no way to hunt, with the exception of the pistols, which he had saved in case of emergency.

Around her legs, her white petticoat was stained slightly around the hem, and suffered from small rips and tears and now had frays in small places. Her feet were bare until she ducked back into the crude little house and retrieved her slippers. (Said slippers that were not meant for traipsing about the beach in.)

Scratching at her hair deliciously, she stepped carefully through the fifteen feet of the jungle and was suddenly facing the brilliant radiance of the water. As Olivia stared out, she took note, with dread, that once again the horizon was as barren as a desert. Her entire body was fatigued and she was covered with disgusting salt.

A few feet away, her husband was letting the waves rush over his bare feet. It was apparent that he was enthralled in his actions, enjoying the silence. The sun was bright but his eyes were closed. Olivia smiled with admiration and walked towards him, the sand sinking beneath her every step.

"That looks lovely," she murmured. Still, she stood and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Good morning, then."

Her hands were folded before her, and she toyed with the pearl ring he had given her. A very faint smile remained. "It certainly must be drifting towards autumn back in Massachusetts."

"I estimate that it is the last week of August or the first days of September," he replied with little inclination to her prior statement. "Quickly the leaves will change and Hawke's Vale will be aflame."

"Pity we shan't be home." She settled beside him on the sand. "My hair is awful." This last statement was absent, but she played with the very split ends and examined her lap.

"I must look as a bum," he remarked, and touched the short but thick growth of hair on his face.

This made her laugh. "A very handsome bum!"