"James Patrick Kelly - The Edge of Nowhere" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

The calm with which he said it was like a slap in the face. She stared at him, speechless, until he finally
met her gaze. "I'll come back for you." He gave her the goofy, apologetic grin he always summoned up
when he upset her. "I'll make sure the path is safe and I'll make all kinds of friends down at the bottom
and when the time is right, I'll be back."

"But what about your book?"

He blew a dismissive breath between his lips. "I'm all set with that."

"It's finished?"

"It's crap, Rain." His voice was flat. "I'm not wasting any more time writing about some stupid made-up
president. There are no more presidents. And how can anyone write the Great American novel when
there is no more America?" He caught his breath. "Sorry," he said. "I know that's what you wanted me to
do." He gave her a sour smile. "You're welcome to read it if you want. Or hand it over to the dogs. That
should be good for a laugh." Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Of course Rain kissed him back. She wanted to drag him down on top of her and rip his clothes off,
although there really wasn't enough room here to make love. She would even have let him take her on the
picnic table, tie her to the damn table, if that's what he had wanted. But his wasn't the kind of kiss that
started anything.

"So I'm coming back, I promise," he murmured into her ear. "Just tell everyone that you're waiting for
me."

"Wait a minute." She twisted away from him. "You're going now? It's almost dark. We just ate cookie
dust." She couldn't believe he was serious. This was such a typical boneheaded-Will-stunt he was pulling.
"Come home, honey," she said. "Get some sleep. Things might look different in the morning."

He stroked her hair. "I've got at least another hour of light," he said. "Believe me, I've thought about this a
long time, Rain." Then he brushed his finger against her lips. "I love you."

He took a step over the edge and another. He had gone about a dozen meters before his feet went out
from beneath him and he fell backwards, skidding on his rear end and clutching at the scrub. But he
caught himself almost immediately and looked up at her, his face pale as the moon. "Oops!" he called
cheerfully.

Rain stood at the edge of the cliff long after she could no longer see him. She was hoping that he'd come
to a dead end and have to turn back. The sun was painting the horizon with fire by the time she fetched
Will's binders to the edge of Nowhere. She opened one after another and shook the pages free. They
fluttered into the twilight like an exaltation of larks. A few landed briefly on the path before launching
themselves again into the breeze and following their creator out of her life. When all the pages had
disappeared, Rain took the whistle that the dogs had given her and hurled it as far into the mondrian as
she could.

Only then did she let herself cry. She thought she deserved it.