Lonely Souls

by Rosemary Fifield

  The horses leaned against the harness and the sled lurched forward. Dawson put his arm around Shelby to ease the initial jolt, then released her as the sled moved smoothly ahead on the hard-packed snow.

  Shelby reached out to grasp his sleeve. “We’re not going down that driveway, are we?”

  “Nope. There’s a nice logging trail in the woods behind the barn, and the snow’s been pretty well packed by snowmobilers. It ends down on Longlake Road over the other side of the hill. That’s the way we came up.”

  “Snowmobilers ride up behind my barn?”

  Dawson looked down at her frowning face. “Does that bother you? I saw some cross-country ski trails, too. You can post your land if you don’t want them there, but Daytons never did and people are used to using the land. You had deer hunters up here, too.”

  Shelby continued to look concerned. “I don’t care if they use the land for recreation, but I don’t like the idea of strangers up close to the house. Or people shooting.”

  “Then post the parts near the house, and let them use the rest.”

  “Would you do that for me?”

  Dawson looked down at her once more. “I’m not taking that job, remember?”

  “Because you and Cassie are through?”

  “More or less.”

  “More or less you’re through, or more or less that’s why you won’t take it?”

  “We’re through, and it wouldn’t work for me to live here.” He guided the horses through the gap between the barn and the rock wall and headed them out across the open field toward a break in the woods.

  “I can understand that, but I’m really sorry it’s worked out that way.”

  Dawson shrugged. “It’s okay. Cassie’s better off and so am I.”

  Shelby pondered that for a long moment, then apparently decided to change the subject. “I didn’t know you had horses.”

  “I don’t. These belong to Royal Chilcott. He uses them for logging.”

  “Describe them to me.”

  He described the horses, then went on to describe the snow-covered woods through which they were passing and the glistening, untouched snow that lay to either side of the track in the open field before them. “Well, we have two choices now. We can turn around in this field and go back the way we came or continue down the other side and take Longlake Road around until we reach a gap in the wall.”

  “Which one will take longer?”

  “The road.”

  “That sounds good to me. I just need to change position first, and I can’t get much leverage in this hay.”

  Dawson reined in the horses and asked how he could help. Just sit there, she said, and let me move myself by pushing off of you. She repositioned herself at ninety degrees to him, her legs straight out to the side and her back against Dawson. The crosswinds in the field were cold, and she started to shiver. Dawson put his arm around her shoulder and across her upper chest, shielding her from the wind with his body. She snuggled willingly against him and seemed content with the arrangement. He clucked to the horses to continue on their way.

  He kept the pace to a slow walk and the horses eased the hay-filled sled down the gentle slope. Shelby was warm now and declared she could go on forever. Dawson said he’d see what he could do to arrange that.

  They spoke very little after that, content to just ride in the bracing fresh air. Dawson wished she could see the china-blue sky and the jewel-like sparkles on the surface of the snow and the way the hills in the distance faded away in shades of lavender and blue. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like living in a world of constant blackness. How frustrating and boring it must be. How frightening. His arm around her tightened protectively before he realized what he had done.

  Shelby brought her mittened hand up and rested it on his arm. “Where are we?”

  “Just above Longlake Road.”

  “It feels flat.”

  “It’s a little plateau before the final hill.”

  “Can we stop?”

  “Sure. Ready to shift again?”

  “Sort of.”

  He released his grip on her, and she pushed away from him realigning herself along the length of the wagon this time. Then, to his surprise, she lay back in the hay, her face turned upward toward the sun. “Ah, this is nice. Just like the beach. Come on down.”

  Dawson tied the reins to a ring on the edge of the wagon and stretched out on his back beside her. The sun was warm on his face, but the glare was more than he could stand. He turned onto his side to face her, propping his head on his hand as he studied her face so close beside his. Her gray-blue eyes were wide open and staring up at the sky.

  “Isn’t this nice?” she asked.

  “Very.”

  “You’re looking at me, not the sky.”

  “It’s too bright.”

  “Oh. Well, see, there are some benefits to being blind,” she said with a small smile.

  “It must be hard.”

  “Being blind? Sometimes. Most of the time. Like now. I wish I could see your face.”

  “Faces don’t matter.”

  Her smile faded. “Until there’s something wrong with your own.”

  “You have a beautiful face. You must know that.”

  “Had. Maybe. Not anymore. And, I’ll admit, I used to count on it to get me what I wanted. It’s been a real lesson to go to the opposite extreme.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Shelby gave a short, humorless laugh. “Dawson, I may be blind, but I’m not brain-damaged. Besides, it’s makeup.”

  “I never thought it looked bad. And I don’t like the makeup. It looks awful in the sun.”

  Shelby grinned. “That’s what I like about you, Dawson. You tell it like it is.” When he didn’t answer, she said, “So why are we here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you wanted to talk to me alone.”

  “I just didn’t want to stay where Cassie was, that’s all. So I figured we needed a way to get away from the house.”

  “Well, this was a nice thing to do just to tell me you won’t take the job.”

  “I hope you understand.”

  “Oh, I understand why. I just wish there were a way around it.”

  Dawson frowned. “Why? There must be a lot of people who will take the job. You really need someone who will mow the lawn and stuff anyway. I never wanted to do that.”

  Shelby nodded. “I guess I just felt good about you.”

  He sat up and brushed the hay out of his hair, uncomfortable with the conversation now. “That only proves you don’t know me.”

  “Really? What is it I need to know? Is it something really awful?” Her face wore a teasing smile.

  He untied the reins and signaled the horses to pick up the pace. “We’re going to be going downhill soon. You might want to sit up.” He reached for Shelby’s arm, cupping his hand under her elbow. She grabbed onto his coat sleeve and pulled herself up until she was seated beside him. Dawson clucked to the horse and they started down the final slope of the hill. “This is Longlake Road,” he said when they reached the bottom. “It’s the border between Chatham Ridge and Chatham Center. Grant’s cabin is off this road, about four miles up.”

  “Is there a Long Lake?”

  “No, There’s Baxter Pond in Chatham Center at one end, but that’s all.”

  “And where do you live?”

  “On the other side of Chatham Ridge, near the Four Corners. I live with my mother.”

  “Is that Glennhaven?”

  Her words took Dawson by surprise. “Where did you hear that?

  “Cassie, I think. She said something like that to Grant.”

  “Glenn Heaven. It’s a joke. Sort of.” His voice trailed off. His month in Glenn Heaven was not something he particularly wanted Shelby to know about.

  “A bad joke, I take it.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I have so much to learn about this place,” she sighed.

&n
bsp; Dawson laughed bitterly. “Some things you’re better not knowing.”

  The horses’ pace increased on the flat, and the sled rumbled down the ice-covered road. Dawson told her about the horse-drawn rollers that used to pack down the snow on the roads before automobiles and plows. Shelby was cold in the brisk breeze that now blew across the open fields to either side, and Dawson put his arm around her once more. A bar gap in the rock wall along the road gave access to Shelby’s property, and Dawson turned the team into it. They followed the snowmobile trails that traversed the gradual incline and worked their way back to the barn. As Dawson reined in the horses, Shelby said, “This is wonderful, Dawson. Can we do it again sometime?”

  “Any time you want.”

  “I really appreciate your going to all this trouble.”

  “It wasn’t any trouble.”

  Shelby’s mittened hand reached up until it touched Dawson’s cheek. “I’d like to think it was at least a little trouble,” she smiled.

  Dawson laughed. “Terrible trouble.”

  Cassie stood at the dining room window and watched the horse-drawn sled approach. “Here they come,” she said.

  Shane rose from his chair at the table and stood behind her, looking over the top of her head. He said nothing, but she knew he was angry, and she wasn’t sure why. She wished Sonny had been so thoughtful towards her in times past, for she know that Shelby had probably had a wonderful time out in the snow. The hay and the horses’ slow pace would have ensured Shelby’s safety. The only possibility was that Shane simply didn’t like her being with Sonny.

  They stood at the window watching Sonny lift her out of the hay. She was laughing, although she winced once, and then he was carrying her in his arms, slowly and carefully toward the house. Cassie turned and brushed past Shane, who remained at the window as she went to open the back door. Sonny’s coppery cheeks were rosy with the cold and his dark eyes sparkled in a way Cassie hadn’t seen in years. Both he and Shelby were grinning as he set Shelby in a kitchen chair, then bent over to catch his breath. Shane stepped into the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, a cold look in his eyes. Sonny straightened up, and when his eyes met Shane’s the smile left his face. Cassie watched the exchange of arrows between them and knew that her hunch was right.

  “Well,” she said to Shelby in a cheerful voice, ”it looks like you had a great time.”

  Shelby was pulling off her hat and mittens and unbuttoning the plaid hunting jacket. Her cheeks were rosy beyond any blush Cassie had applied, and she looked the healthy outdoors woman she had once been. She laughed in response to Cassie’s words and nodded her head. “God, it was great! We’ll have to have a sleighing party some time!”

  “That would be fun.”

  Shelby pulled off her jacket, and Sonny reached down to help her. “Is Shane home?” she asked.

  “Right here.”

  Shelby turned toward the sound of his voice. “Hi! How did it go?”

  “All right.”

  “Did it hurt to have the tape removed?”

  “No.”

  “How about the stitches?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She took her cue from the abruptness of his answers and turned back to finish removing her excess clothes. Sonny had knelt on the floor before her and was unlacing her Bean boots. To Cassie’s surprise, Shelby reached out and touched his cheek with her fingertips.

  “Hey, I thought you had to get the horses back before they get too cold.”

  “I do.” He finished unlacing the second boot and carefully eased them off her feet. “How are your toes?”

  “Coming back.”

  “You’re going to have to get some real boots for playing in the snow.”

  Shelby grimaced as he kneaded her toes to restore the circulation. “Sitting too long in one position,” she said, “but it was fun. Thanks again.”

  Sonny, aware of the hostile audience they had, simply said, “You’re welcome,” then rose to his feet and left the house.

  Shane left the room. Cassie picked Shelby’s clothes from the floor and carried her boots into the ell’s mudroom. When she returned Shelby said, “Where’s Shane?”

  “In the parlor.”

  Shelby rose from the chair but her hips were aching now and her toes still hurt. She sat back down and asked Cassie to bring her the walker, then made her way into the parlor while Cassie stayed behind to work on supper.

  “Shane?”

  “Over here.” He made no move to help her, and she tried to gauge where she was in relation to a seat. But she was tired now from being in the cold, fresh air, and her patience with adversity was wearing thin. “Would you at least tell me which direction to fall?” she snapped.

  “Left,” he said, but came from his chair to guide her to the couch.

  “Thank you. Now, could we please talk about this like the two civilized people we are?”

  Shane sat down beside her. “Talk.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t like the company you keep.”

  “Dawson? I thought you liked Dawson.”

  “Do you know where he’s been since before Christmas?”

  “No. Where’s he been?”

  “He’s been living in some slum housing somewhere, drinking himself comatose every night.”

  “He’s living with his mother now.”

  “Shel, the man’s an alcoholic! I’ve heard worse things, too, which I won’t even bother to repeat.”

  “Shane, I like Dawson. I’m sure he’s got his dirty little secrets. We’ve all got our dirty little secrets. Wouldn’t you say so?”

  “Don’t get cute with me, Shel. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I appreciate that, Shane, but I’m old enough to make these kinds of judgments for myself. Where would we be today if I had listened to all the people who warned me against you?”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “I’m sorry, Shane, but it’s true.”

  “He’s been living with some half-witted, inbred whore, Shelby!”

  “Oh, Shane, how do you know that’s true? Were you there? The man’s probably been bad-mouthed his whole life! What’s your point? Do we really need to get into sex lives? I don’t think it would be to your advantage!”

  “You’re pissing me off, Shelby.”

  “Well, you’re pissing me off! Shane, I love you. You know that. But you don’t get to tell me what to do. You live your private life, and I don’t interfere, even though I’m scared stiff for you. At least let me feel free to live mine. If I’m making a mistake, I’ll find out the hard way. But that’s the story of my life, Shane.”

  “Are we that big a mistake?” he asked softly.

  “Shane, what future do we have together? None! I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’m reaching my so-called prime, be that as it may. Am I doomed to masturbate myself to sleep for the rest of my life?”

  “But Dawson?”

  “You’re jumping to some pretty hefty conclusions,” she said angrily.

  “Shelby, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “Oh, give it a break, Shane! Who the hell is going to lust after a woman with a face that looks like a goddamn road map?”

  “I did. I still do. You think I don’t feel anything sexual for you, Shel, but you’re wrong.”

  Shelby closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t. I can’t handle that at all.”

  “Shelby, you are a beautiful woman. You’re getting your face back. You’ve always had your figure. Don’t you think men look at more than your face?”

  “The road map doesn’t end with my face.”

  “Oh, Shel.” Shane put his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace, then brought his mouth down over hers. He kissed her with all the passion that had been building in him since he realized he might be losing her to another man. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, pressing her breasts hard against his chest.

  When Cassie came into the parl
or to offer them each a glass of wine, Shane and Shelby were at the top of the stairs turning into his room.

  Chapter Twelve