Golden Stars in the Snow By Audrey Zhang “It was that very fire and blindness, that way of flashing with her whole self into one impulse, without foresight or sight at all, that had made her seem wonderful to him. When she caught fire, she went like an arrow, toward whatever end.” ~ Willa Cather, Lucy Gayheart, Book 3, Chapter III, pg. 186.
“I’m nearly an hour late as it is, and I’ve got to make up time on the road. Wish I weren’t in such a hurry.” He touched his fur cap with his glove and drove on (Lucy Gayheart, pg. 166). All the countless months spent orchestrating meetings to speak to the real Harry—all her glances that he discarded as if they meant nothing to him—ignited a firestorm of pain and fury in Lucy. Boiling blood rushed to her face. She could no longer feel the cold, and her vision burned white-hot at the edges. “Harry!” Her shriek chilled him to the bone. When his broad back did not budge, she tore through the jagged snow, flung her bag to the side of the road, and latched onto his sled. “What are you doing, Lucy?!” Harry’s head swiveled back. His shaken voice spurred Lucy to dig her heels into the frozen mud and pull with all her might. The horses whinnied, and the sleigh bells cried out, but Lucy did not hear them. As Harry jerked the reins, Lucy hoisted herself up and hooked her right leg into the seat. Just as Harry pulled in his horses, Lucy brought in her other leg. The cutter lurched to a halt, and she slammed into him.
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