by Katie Dowe
“Why not go on a vacation to some Caribbean island, or even to Europe?”
“I don’t want to be found, Annmarie. I want to be by myself for a little bit without demands being made on my time. I want to wake up in the mornings without getting panicked about some deadline I need to meet. I'm tired and I need to rest. Please understand.”
Addison sipped the coffee appreciatively as she stared out the window. It had snowed last night and she could see the powdery substance falling from the trees. It was so quiet and peaceful. Just what she needed. She lived in a large town and was used to the noise and traffic. She had wondered briefly if being here was going to be a problem, but apparently not. She got up and, rinsing out her cup, she went to put some clothes on. She just might take a walk after all.
*****
Preston pulled the boot lace tightly and knotted it before getting up. He reached for the thick bomber jacket and pulled it on. He'd had his breakfast of oatmeal and orange juice along with light toast and was ready to brave the elements. He pulled on his gloves and headed for the door. He turned back for a wool cap and pulled it over his head before heading out again. He stood there breathing in the cold clean air for a moment before taking off. It had snowed during the night and his boots made deep indentations in the powdery substance. He progressed into a run and within minutes he had covered a good distance.
Chapter 2
It was a week after being there that they met each other. A big storm had descended on them the night before and had practically marooned them. Addison had to heave the door open and getting a shovel from the shed she'd started digging along the walkway. She had used a rental car to get here and it was locked up tight in the garage. She hadn't used it since she'd arrived. She shoveled the last of the snow and put away the shovel then went back inside to warm herself in front of the fire in the hearth. She'd started writing again after a few days of being here and had poured herself into it, but this time she was writing a novel. She'd started one some time ago but had gotten caught up with writing movie scripts and had put it aside. Now with time on her hands and no one to call her every minute of the day she could concentrate on writing what she wanted to write.
She went into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast with the intention of going back to her writing afterwards, when she heard a noise outside. With her heart thumping inside her chest and aware that she was a woman out here alone she went cautiously to the window to peek out. He was dressed all in black and she could barely see his face by the pale watery sun shining from the sky. He could be anyone. A serial killer or a serial rapist, and he probably knew she was inside. How stupid of her to book somewhere with no cell service. She watched furtively as he approached the door and stood there out of sight as he knocked on the solid wood. “Hello? Is anyone in here? I'm afraid I'm out of matches and my cabin is freezing.”
That could be code for “Open the door so I can ravage your body and cut you up in tiny pieces”
“Hello? Look, I'm staying in one of the cabins several blocks away. My name is Pre- Cameron Lakes and I assure you that I am completely innocent and no threat at all.”
“You saying that does not make it true,” she called out in spite of her resolve to be quiet so that he could leave.
“You're right. What can I say to convince you?”
“Nothing.” With a deep sigh she pulled the door open. “I have a knife on me so do not make any funny moves,” she warned him. She stepped back to let him in.
“Yes ma’am,” his tone was a little amused as he followed her to the kitchen.
“I had no idea that anyone else was here.” She searched the pantry and found boxes of matches and gave him a couple.
“Neither did I.” His gaze wandered over her face. She had just taken off her wool hat so her hair was messy and escaping from the untidy bun she'd tried to secure it in. Her black sweater hugged her bosom tightly and so did her jeans. She wasn't fit for company but he didn't seem to mind. “I didn't get your name.”
“Addie Moore,” she said quickly.
“Nice to meet you, Addie Moore.” He extended a hand and she took it.
She nodded and took back her hand quickly, stepping back as she did so. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she found herself asking.
“You read my mind,” his lips parted in a smile that transformed his otherwise sober face and had her staring. “I went for a long walk and when I came back the fire had gone out. And apparently my landlady forgot to stock up on matches. I'm so used to turning the knob on my stove and seeing the fire come up that I've almost forgotten how to light a match.”
“I'm sure it'll come back to you.” She turned to reach for the coffee pot and a cup. “You're here alone?”
He nodded as he accepted the beverage. “No sugar, thanks. How about you?”
“Yes,” she answered but didn't elaborate.
“This is good,” he told her, sipping in appreciation.
“It came with the place.”
His light green eyes met hers before looking around. “Do you need some help with the shoveling? I'd say it’s fair trade for the coffee and the matches.”
“It’s—” she was about to refuse then thought better of it. “I would really appreciate that.”
He nodded and finished his coffee in silence. “Whenever you're ready.”
She had to admit that they made very good progress, within an half an hour piles of snow were dumped on the side of the yard, leaving a clearing for her to drive out if she so desired. She glanced at the large face watch on her wrist and realized that it was almost noon. “Would you like something to eat?”
“Thank you.” He went and leaned the shovel against the porch and waited while she came towards him.
She watched him furtively as she quickly made the sloppy Joes. He looked sad and withdrawn, as if he was running away from something. But then so was she.
“Hot chocolate?” she asked as she handed him the sandwich.
“Yes.” He broke off the crust off the bread before picking up the sandwich and biting into it. “How long have you been here?”
“Just over a week.” She poured the hot water over the powdered mixture and stirred it briskly before adding some milk. “And you?”
“About the same.” He accepted the cup and wrapped his large hands around it to get some warmth. “I'm—er, on a kind of vacation.”
“So am I,” she grasped at his reason quickly.
His light green eyes searched hers as if wondering at the truth before he nodded. “It’s very peaceful here isn’t it?”
“It is.” She nibbled at her sandwich for a moment. “So quiet you can hear your thoughts.”
“I'm not used to such solitude.”
“Neither am I, but I like it.”
They ate in silence for a while before he spoke up. “I should be going.”
“Of course.” She got to her feet.
He looked at her for a moment and Addie wondered what he was thinking. “How about I offer you dinner tomorrow?”
“What were you thinking of cooking?” she asked as she followed him to the door.
“I was thinking something simple. I'm not much of a cook but I can rustle up some beef stew.”
“It sounds lovely. I'll bring the bread and the wine.”
“It’s cabin 108 and it’s easy to find.”
“I'll be there.”
“Six is good.” He had his hand on the door.
“Okay.” She watched as he pulled the door open and went out into the cold.
“Well, see you then Addie.”
“Of course.”
He didn't turn to look at her as she stood in the doorway and before he disappeared from sight she'd closed and locked the door.
*****
Preston trudged through the snow slowly, ignoring the biting cold seeping through the thick layer of clothing he was wearing. He hadn't meant to invite her over for dinner but the words had come out automatically. He had major demons
to deal with and he'd left home in order to stay away from people for a little bit. He certainly didn't need a distraction like her. He stamped the snow from his boots and went into the cabin. The sky had turned dark again and he had a feeling they were in for some more snow. He took off his jacket and hat as well as his boots before going into the living room to light the stack of wood he'd found in the shed. He sat there for a little bit as the warmth of the fire soaked into him and made him feel warm again. His mind wandered as he remembered camping with his dad and his brother. He must have been twelve and that meant that Parker would have been seventeen and a freshman at college. Their father had sent them off to look for wood to make the fire and Parker had dared him to walk on branch that had been suspended over the bubbling stream. He'd done it and ended up falling into the cold water, coming up shivering. Parker had laughed at him and told him that he needed to toughen up. “I'm teaching you how to get through in life Preston,” he'd said as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around Preston's shivering body.
Preston stared into the mesmerizing flames for a moment, his thoughts far away. He'd been a jerk sometimes but he'd been the only brother Preston had had and he missed him like crazy.
*****
Addison made the long trek towards Preston's cabin. It had snowed lightly during the night and everything looked fresh and white, like someone had spread a large white blanket over the ground. She pulled her jacket closer as she made the journey and looked around her. It was the same as where she was staying except for a towering rosewood tree near his cabin. She squinted at the number on the door and made her way over. He was apparently watching out for her because he opened up before she could knock on the door.
“I see you made it,” he said as he ushered her inside. The place was warm from the heat emanating from the large fire in the hearth. The décor was basically the same as hers except for a large white blanket thrown over the sofa.
“It’s quite a distance from mine.” She handed him the basket with the bread and wine. “I wasn't sure of your taste. I kind of stick to Pinot Grigio myself.”
“One of my favorites.” He led the way to the kitchen where the smell of the stew on the stove top assailed her nostrils.
“It smells delicious,” she said with a smile as she took a seat on one of the stools around the small counter.
“Let’s hope it tastes that way.” He put away the things she'd brought and stirred the stew. “My grandmother taught me how to make this meal. It was one of her specialties.”
“Your mother don’t cook?”
He turned to look at her for a moment and then responded. “Not much,” he told her briefly. “I made a salad as well.”
“Do you want help?”
“No, it’s fine.” He opened the cupboard and took out bowls and plates. “It’s ready. I hope you're hungry.”
“Starving,” she admitted honestly.
He ladled out the stew into the bowls and passed one to her. She watched as he quickly sliced the bread and it on the plates. The bowl of salad was already in the center. He pushed the plate towards her. “Dig in.”
She did and looked up at him with raised brows. “This is really good.”
“I told you,” he said with a pleased smile. “There's plenty here for seconds and thirds.”
“I'm going to take you up on that,” she said with a smile. His green eyes lingered on her lips before he looked down into his bowl and started eating.
She watched him discreetly as he ate. He did things methodically. The way he ate sparingly as if he had things on his mind. His use of the utensils indicated that he was used to formal dining. His hair was a lustrous brown that shone in the light from above and she could see the sadness etched into the planes of his face. He looked up and their eyes met and held for a few seconds before he got to his feet. “Ready for seconds?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
He ladled out some for her but not for himself. Instead he opened the bottle of wine and poured for them both. He took his glass and walked to the window to look out. “I've started to take walks in the mornings,” he murmured.
“Me too. I guess we go in different directions.”
He swirled the wine in the glass. “I find myself sleeping very well for the first time in a long time. I guess all this solitude is therapeutic.”
“It is.” Addison ate the last of the stew and picked up her glass. “I wake up at all hours of the morning, something I'm not used to doing and after my walk I find that I'm starving. I'm afraid if I continue I might just get fat.”
He turned then and his eyes wandered over her slim frame clad in faded denims and a thick white sweater. Her hair was in a ponytail and her cheekbones were defined. “There's no chance of that happening,” he told her briefly before he turned back to look outside. Addison got to her feet and came over to stand next to him. She ignored the stiffening of his body as she stood there.
“I cannot believe that we're the only two people here.”
“That’s the reason I chose this place. I thought I would be the only one.”
She looked at him for a moment. “You wanted complete privacy.”
“Yes.” He drank the rest of the wine. “I need to be alone for a little bit.”
She didn't ask him why because she had her own secrets and wanted them kept that way. “I understand.”
“I'm sure you do.” He smiled at her briefly. “I was told that this place is swarming with people in the spring and summer.”
“I can just imagine.”
He stood there silently for a moment and she didn't say anything. It had gotten dark, with only the light from the cabin and the pale whiteness of the snow showing through. The area was thick with trees and vegetation covered by the snow. It had an eerie quietness about it that was slightly unsettling. “I should be going,” she murmured as she turned away. He nodded and followed behind her.
“I'll accompany you back to your place.”
“I'm okay, really.”
“I insist,” he told her briefly as he took the glass from her and placed both of them in the sink. “Would you like to take some of the stew back with you?”
“If you can spare it.”
“As I told you, there's plenty.” He reached into the cupboard for a covered dish and ladled some out. He found a bag and put the dish in and handed it to her.
“Thank you, and thanks for dinner.”
“You're welcome.” He preceded her and went to get their coats. She wanted to tell him that next time it would be her treat but he didn't give any indication that he wanted a repeat.
They headed out along the path and he walked next to her in silence. It was as they were nearing her cabin that he spoke. “Thank you for the company.”
“Of course.” She turned to face him. “I enjoyed the meal.”
He nodded. “I'll wait until you get inside.”
She gave him a small smile and headed up to the cabin. She opened the door and went inside, turning to wave at him. He waved back and walked back in the direction they had just come from. She watched him for a moment and then closed the door.
*****
Preston made his way slowly back to his cabin. For the first time since his brother’s death he'd felt like speaking to someone about it. When she had come to stand next to him by the window he'd gotten a whiff of her delicate perfume. He'd felt something, even though he'd tried to will himself from feeling anything. She was a beautiful woman so it was natural for him to feel something. He'd wanted to kiss her. He clenched his fists tightly. Maybe it was the grief talking and making him feel all sorts of weird emotions, but he'd wanted to kiss her. Even when he'd reached her cabin he'd felt the strong urge to take her into his arms and kissed her.
“You should have bro,” he heard his brother’s voice so strong in his head that he had to look around to see if he was standing behind him. “You're always erring on the side of caution.”
“I'm not you Parker,” he muttered. Great. He was talkin
g to a dead person. Parker had taken everything he wanted. He had approached strange women and started conversations with them and then at the end of a few drinks they would head home with him.
“How do you know that it’s not just because of our money?” Preston had asked him one day.
“Of course it’s our money, but I don’t care,” He'd laughed. “I get laid and that's what this is all about. I don’t promise them anything permanent so they don’t get to tell me that I'm using them. They know the deal from the beginning.”
“I want more,” Preston had told him quietly.
“Of course you do. You're Preston and you thrive on stability. I find being with only one woman entirely boring.”
“Mother is going to want you to settle down one day.”
“Not now though.”
Preston let himself into the cabin and closed the door behind him. He stood there staring into the flames of the fire for a moment before he roused himself to take off his jacket and his hat. He strode into the kitchen to wash up the dishes they'd used. He hadn't even finished his bowl of soup. He'd been going for longer and longer walks every day but he wasn't eating as much because his appetite was nonexistent. He poured some more wine and went to the living room to sit on the sofa with the glass clasped between his hands. He should have tried to stop Parker from getting into that prototype before it was ready.
“You need to stop beating yourself up. You tried to stop me but as usual I didn't listen to you. I thought you were playing it safe as usual.”
“I should have ordered you not to go,” Preston muttered, no longer caring that he was answering the voice inside his head. Maybe he was losing his mind.
“How do you think that would have gone?” he could hear his brother's amused tone and he almost smiled. “I never listened to you bro, what makes you think I would have listened to you that time?”
“I should have tried harder to convince you.”
“I made my mistake and I paid for it with my life. You need to move on and try living yours.”