Nally hung onto that hope as he grabbed his laptop and one of the dining chairs and carried everything outside to work. The sun was trying hard to poke through the clouds, so he figured he’d better take advantage of it while he could. It was a bit windy and there was a nip in the air, but at least he didn’t have to worry about paper. Composing wasn’t done the way it had been in Chopin’s time anymore. He sat on the chair, opened his laptop, and pulled up the program that would not only allow him to dragand drop notes onto virtual sheet music, it would play it back for him with the touch of a button.
He started out trying to work on something he’d already started fiddling with for an upcoming film Heath Manfred had mentioned wanting him to work on. It was a light comedy, so the music needed to be frothy and fun. The problem was, Nally was feeling anything but frothy and fun.
He sighed and gazed out across the scrubby, barren landscape surrounding the cottage to where Jude was visible a few dozen yards away, climbing on some rocks. Those rocks swooped up closer to the edge of the island to form a cliff. Climbing there was far more dangerous than anything Nally ever would have attempted, but Jude was the daredevil of the two of them.
That thought brought a smile to Nally’s face, and more importantly, the main motif of a song to his heart. There was so much to be inspired by around him, really. The landscape, the weather, the sound of the birds and the waves, and Jude, of course. Jude and the throbbing tension that still existed between them, along with a mountain of unresolved sexual feelings.
He opened yet another new document and quicky started placing notes on the first line at the top of the page. The process would have been a thousand times easier if he was at home, where he could hook his keyboard up to his laptop and the notes would magically appear on the page as he played, but he could get by with the most basic features of the program.
It was impossible to explain where his music came from. It was probably equally impossible for a painter to put into words where the images they painted came from, or where the stories and characters a writer came up with originated. Creativity was divine, that was all there was to it. In that moment, the divine inspiration that swelled in Nally came straight from Jude ashe climbed up one of the rocks and stood outlined against the cloud-swept sky.
Nally glanced up from his work and smiled at Jude. He loved him. That was all there was to it. Why were the two of them making things so hard between them?
Because they were both ridiculously high-strung and intense, he answered himself. There wasn’t a shred of practicality between them. And common sense? Neither of them had enough of that to fill a thimble. It was amazing that they’d?—
Nally’s thoughts were cut short as Jude suddenly flailed, then tumbled down the far side of the rock he was standing on, disappearing from view.
“Jude!” Nally shouted, bolting to his feet and setting his laptop aside so quickly it fell off the chair and into the grass. He didn’t care if he broke it. He didn’t even think about it as he tore forward, racing over the damp grass and packed dirt toward the rocks.
“Jude!” he called out again as he came closer to the spot where Jude had disappeared. “Jude!”
“Nally!” Jude’s weak call answered him.
Relief burst through Nally. Jude wasn’t dead. Hard on the heels of that relief came renewed fear. What if he was hurt? They were alone together on the island. What if he was dying and needed immediate medical attention.
“Jude, are you alright?” Nally shouted as he clambered over the rock where Jude had disappeared and looked down.
The drop was only about ten feet, and by some miracle, the ground Jude had fallen on wasn’t filled with spiky, slippery rocks, it was sandy. But also rocky, though the rocks were rounded from centuries of tides washing in and out of the space.
“I’m alright,” Jude answered him, completely unconvincingly. He winced as he pushed himself like he was trying to stand. He’d already sat up from whatever positionhe landed in. At first glance, none of his limbs were bent at sickening, broken angles, but that didn’t mean he was okay.
“I’m coming down there to help you up,” Nally said, glancing around the rock where he stood without the first idea of how to climb down.
“I’m fine, really,” Jude said, definitely not fine. “I can climb up without your help.”
“You’re not fine. Stop trying to be a hero,” Nally said, swinging his leg over the big rock and finding the right purchase to start his descent down to the tiny cove. “I’ll help.”
“Do we have any ropes or anything?” Jude asked as Nally gingerly made his way down. “I’m sure I saw some in the corner of the cottage.”
Nally paused where he was, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He really didn’t love climbing. “Um, maybe you should have asked me that before I started climbing down,” he said.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Jude was definitely hurt in some way if he wasn’t making a joke. Nally continued his descent, ignoring his fear and uncertainty, and also the fact that the tide was coming in and starting to lap at Jude’s feet on the sandy ground below.
“Seriously,” he said once he splashed down into the wet and shifting sand, “are you hurt?”
Jude grimaced as he stood, stretching and testing his muscles. “I pulled my shoulder,” he said. “I landed on it, but fortunately, the sand is soft. I smacked my shin against some rocks, though.”
Nally nodded. “Can you climb or do you need help?”
Jude stared at him, the first traces of a wry smile pulling at his dirt-splashed lips. “You’re saying you want to try to help me to climb up a cliff? You?”
“No need to be snarky,” Nally replied, grinning as well. With everything going on these days, he lived for moments of poking banter like that. He gestured for Jude to come nearer. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll figure out how to beat the tide and get back up there safely.”
His words were more significant than he thought they’d be. The tide came in fast. That, combined with the wet weather they’d been having, meant the rocks they needed to ascend to get back to the cottage were cold and slippery and covered with slime. Nally’s hands were stiff and numb before they even made it halfway up. Jude was usually the far better climber than the two of them, but his movements were tight and clumsy, and he slipped a time or two.
Nally was certain there was an even chance they would both tumble back down into what was quickly becoming a pool of swirling, crashing salt water, but with a monumental effort and several rests along the way, they finally dragged themselves up over the big rock to where the grass and dirt were slowly turning to mud as light rain began to fall.
