Soft Breezes
 by Patt Elmore


This is for Kusine . . . Bon Voyage, for now

******************

Sadly, time has become short and life is just too hectic.  You fervently
wish that someone, that special someone, would come along and take you
away from all the worries and problems which suddenly seemed piled on
your head.

You are allowing yourself a stolen moment.  Taking a mug of hot chocolate
out on the porch, you are enjoying the tranquility of the night, the
tranquility of the solitude.  But, once again, the pang of being alone
haunts you.

Then, a sharp hissing noise catches your attention.  It seems to be
coming from above your head.  It hisses again, this time a soft roar. 
You extend yourself beyond the roof of the porch and look upward, just in
time to see the square of thatch descending.

As the basket glides to the ground, *He* beckons you.  "Quickly, my
dear," he calls to you, extending one hand in your direction.  " I do
have more skill and strength than the normal driver of this conveyance,
but without one to hold the crown line, it will drift." 

You need no further encouragement.  You run quickly toward the brightly
striped hot air balloon, it's colors radiant in the glow from the flame. 
A strong arm reaches out, encircles your waist and deftly pulls you into
the basket.

With a gush of fire induced heat, the balloon rises again.  The jolt of
take off causes you to loose balance, but his muscular arm steadies you,
pulling you closer.  He continues to hold you with one hand while he
guides the balloon with the other.

Your ascent is swift, rising above the city, leaving it behind as just a
series of twinkling lights and memories.  Up here, the air is cooler,
clearer.  You breath deeply, taking in the heady fragrance of the night. 
The stars are so shiny and bright that they almost hurt the eyes.

"Isn't this dangerous, flying a balloon at night?" you ask shyly, hoping
he will not be angered by your question.  LaCroix just chuckles.

"Not for someone who sees better in the night than in the daytime," he
replies.  

You drift in silence for a time, the sounds of your breathing and heart
beat the only audible acknowledgements of your presence on earth.  There
is supreme contentment in this shared time with him . . . feeling his
cool closeness, his strength as he steers the balloon through the low
lying wisps of clouds.  

He leans close.  His whisper is soft in your ear.  "Look downward."

Below, visible in the moonlight,  is a herd of deer.  A buck and four
does, bedded in the high grass of a meadow.  LaCroix reaches up and pulls
the gas cord, causing the mechanism to emit a harsh whooshing sound.  

The buck stands, alerted by the sound.  Smiling, LaCroix pulls the cord
again.  The buck, snorts, shaking his rack at the perceived threat. 
Again, LaCroix pulls the cord.  The stag, infuriated, paws the ground and
trumpets a warning.

"See how he defends his family," LaCroix comments softly.  "This fall, he
will leave them, but for now he is their world, their protector.  And,
even after the rutting season, he will be close, ready to defend them
when needed."

His hold on you changes, causing you to remove your eyes from the deer
and look at him.  "Much as I will always be there for those in *my*
family."

LaCroix pulls you close, holding you tight to his chest, his face buried
in your hair.  Sighing, you allow you arms to encircle his waist, pulling
him closer.  He nuzzles your neck, his lips at your ear.  

"Always . . ." he whispers.

**************************************************************************

Hurry back, Kusine.

Patt