Let It Snow...
Page 13
None of that had been the case when he lost Mormor. In retrospect, he realized he’d been in a state of shock when he’d hooked up with Elsa. In a normal world and with rightful thinking, Trudie and her parents would’ve been a comfort. But there was nothing normal or right about losing Mormor, and in a crazy way the Browns were part of what he’d lost so he’d distanced himself. But now...with time and more time...it was damn nice to hear that Harriet Brown had worried about him...that they still cared about him. Elsa and her folks were nice, but it simply wasn’t the same. He realized at that moment just how much he’d missed the Browns. And Trudie.
“That’s good to hear.” He opened the truck door for her and Jessup jumped in ahead of her. Trudie followed the dog into the cab. “I’ve stayed away too long,” Knox said.
She busied herself clicking her seatbelt into place. “Yes, you have,” she said without looking at him.
He closed her door, rounded the cab, and climbed in on the other side. Jessup, the big sap, had his head on Trudie’s thigh and was gazing up at her adoringly. Knox, rather confusingly, was feeling the same ever since she’d backed into him and awoken an awareness of her as a woman.
All these years, she’d been his buddy who happened to be a girl. Now, it was as if scales had suddenly dropped from his eyes and he saw her for the beautiful, sexy woman she was.
“Nice truck,” she said, interrupting his thought, which was just as well.
“Thanks. I got it last year.” Elsa had told him he needed something newer, bigger, faster—something that reflected who he really was. He liked it well enough, but he was just getting it to the point that it was broken in and comfortable.
He glanced over at Trudie, her profile etched in dark relief, familiar yet unfamiliar. He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel to keep from reaching over and tracing the curve of her cheek, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck and tugging her to meet him until he felt her lips against his and tasted her mouth.
How many times had they shared the cab of his truck? Innumerable, but this time was different. Was it the truck? Was it her? Him? All of the above? Hell if he knew, he just knew it was.
He’d never been turned on by Trudie before. Apparently he was making up for lost time.
* * *
TRUDIE WAS surprised she could still actually breathe. Sharing the confines of the cab with Knox was simultaneously torturous and wonderful. Outside it was dark, cold and snowy. In here it simply smelled like man and dog...and unfortunately, Elsa’s perfume. Regardless, Trudie had more than missed Knox. She’d ached for him, been bereft without him. She would not, however, fall back into that feeling, that trap.
Outside, light spilled out of the storefronts lining Main Street, the windows decorated for the season—some more native-inclined, some geared toward the religious celebration, while others were simply festooned with ribbons, lights and greenery. A makeshift RV city had been set up in the empty lot that was the baseball diamond in the summer. A few hardy souls had actually pitched tents, but for the most part it was travel-trailers behind trucks and motor homes. Trudie noticed a psychedelic painted school bus with a big peace sign on the front hood. The Hatchers were here. They’d been coming for years. It really wouldn’t be Chrismoose without them, just as it hadn’t really been Chrismoose last season without Knox and Mormor. She had missed him.
“So, have you missed me?” Knox said.
His question startled her. She and Knox had spent so much time together for so long they used to complete one another’s sentences, but she’d figured some of that connection would have been lost. She certainly didn’t want him tapping into all of her thoughts and feelings. However, it had always been part relief and part frustration that he’d never tapped into the way she really felt about him. Now would be a bad time to start. Still, after the chasm that had separated them for the past couple of years, it was a little uncanny that his question echoed her thought.
“Have you missed me?” she countered. She tensed inside. His answer meant far more to her than it should have at this juncture. She needed to keep her perspective.
She caught the flash of white teeth as he grinned in the glow of the dashboard, the storefront lights of Good Riddance having been left behind. His smile set off her pulse like a runaway train. The headlights illuminated the world of snowy white around them. “I asked you first,” he said.
Trudie swallowed her disappointment at his nonanswer. She needed to lighten up. “Of course I have. I haven’t found anyone else I can beat at Scrabble as mercilessly as I can beat you.”
He laughed, the warm, rich sound filling the cabin, washing over her like warm water. “Ha.”
“You asked.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
Jessup settled his head more firmly on her thigh and she absently rubbed his soft fur with her left hand, finding comfort in the familiar contours and the press of his weight against her leg.
There was an arousing familiarity to Knox’s hands on the steering wheel—broad, strong hands. Heaven knew how much in the last year and a half she’d longed to feel his hands, his mouth, his skin against hers in the throes of passion. She had thought she’d finally put that behind her.
But, she couldn’t leave the issue Knox had raised alone. She’d answered his inquiry, now he could do the same. “You’ve missed me?”
“Sure. No one makes chocolate chip cookies quite like you do.” There was a forced heartiness to his declaration.
She’d set the standard with the Scrabble statement but nonetheless she wanted to bang him over the head. Her cookies? He’d missed her damn cookies?
He sighed quietly in the silence. “I have missed you, Trudie.” He paused, the words hanging between them, weaving deep into her soul, cracking through the hard shell she’d encased her heart in. “I’m sorry I never called.”
Suddenly everything seemed much better in her world with that one simple admission and his apology. “Thanks.”
While it was good to hear, where did it leave them? Pretty much nowhere. She consciously dialed herself back. She’d never trusted anyone the way she’d trusted Knox and he’d turned his back on her. He’d flat out walked away and left her standing alone and hurting and she’d be damned if she was willing to go there with him again. She’d be all kinds of a fool to open herself to that...and she was a lot of things but she wasn’t a fool.
“We were good friends—” she knew he wouldn’t miss the past tense there “—so of course we’ve missed one another, but that’s kind of life, isn’t it? There’s an ebb and flow to everything, especially relationships. We ebbed. It happens.” She shrugged. Once again, she reminded herself to lighten things up. “So, did you do any fishing last season? I caught a forty-pound halibut last year.”
Knox whistled beneath his breath, impressed. She hadn’t set a record or anything, but as fishing went it was big. “Homer?”
She and Knox had made the trip numerous times since they were teenagers. Homer, down on the Kenai Peninsula, offered the best halibut fishing in Alaska. “Of course. You caught anything good lately?”
“I haven’t been in a couple of years.”
“What?” Okay, she knew it was Elsa but she was going to play it. What the heck? Knox loved to fish. “You haven’t been fishing?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Busy? If she needed any confirmation—which she didn’t—that Elsa was so totally wrong for him, there it was. Of course, she could know it all day, but until he figured it out... “That’s a shame. Life’s too busy when you can’t take at least one day off or an afternoon.”
“Yeah. I know. But I’m going this spring.”
“Well, that’s good. You’ve got to make time for the things you love.” She found it sad, but in a way oddly comforting, that Knox hadn’t been fishing. She’d thought he must not care about her if she hadn’t heard from him, but if he hadn’t even been fishing, and she knew how he felt about fishing...
“I know,” he sai
d, acknowledging her assertion that it was necessary to make time for cherished things. “So, who’d you go fishing with?”
He’d asked her countless times in the past what she’d done and who she’d done it with, but this time his question held a studied casualness. He was quizzing her.
“Dad and I went a couple of times and then I went with a friend.”
“Anyone I know?” There was nothing casual about the question.
“I don’t think so. Jeremy Lyons.”
“No. I don’t know him.” His tone was clipped. “Where’d you meet him?”
“At the fishing supply store. We were both checking out the lures.” She’d immediately liked the stocky, compact guy with the ginger hair.
“Ah. I see. So, have you seen him outside of fishing?”
Technically, it was none of Knox’s business, but she had nothing to hide. “We’ve been out to dinner a couple of times, caught a few movies.” They genuinely had a good time together...except he wasn’t Knox, which was irrationally confounding.
“Is he coming to Chrismoose?”
Once again, she was really close to telling him it was none of his business. There was a time when they would give one another the thumbs-up or thumbs-down on who the other one was dating. That, however, had all changed with Elsa. “Not that I’m aware of.” Jeremy had asked to come. She had told him she’d be busy and accommodations were sparse. She hadn’t offered him to stay at the cabin with her.
“You like him?”
“He’s a nice enough guy or I wouldn’t hang out with him, would I?” Actually, she had stopped seeing so much of Jeremy because he was obviously feeling for her what, at this point, she couldn’t feel for him.
“Guess not.”
The crunch of tires over the packed snow was the only sound in the truck. Coming with Knox had been a mistake. At the least she should’ve driven her vehicle rather than leaving it in the parking lot in town. Instead of the comfortable silences they’d once enjoyed, this was awkward.
She was altogether too aware of him and her longing for him intensified. Longing was too weak a word. Perhaps it was all the nights of fantasizing about him, dreaming of his touch, his hands on her, her hands on him, heated kisses in the dark, the feel of him thrusting between her thighs. Moisture had gathered there when she was simply sharing the cab with him and she felt as if she might explode from the throbbing ache.
Trying to distract herself, Trudie stared out the window, absently noting the enormous evergreens, their branches hanging heavy with snow. They simply looked sad to her.
Knox tapped his finger against the steering wheel and then reached over and turned on the CD player. The sound of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash filled the air. At least Knox was staying true to the music he liked. Elsa must approve. Trudie knew it was a catty thought. It’d be one thing if she thought Knox was happy, but he wasn’t. Trudie had seen it in his eyes.
Once again she thought she’d made a mistake coming with him when she was fairly humming with want, but she was committed. They’d have their burgers and beer and he could take her back to get her SUV and that would be that.
She wasn’t quite sure why the thought didn’t cheer her up.
3
KNOX PULLED UP to the front of the cabin and killed the engine. They let the silence and dark adjust around them.
“Hang tight,” he said, opening his door and stepping out into the freshly shoveled area, the snow beneath his boots hard and compact. He rounded the truck and opened the passenger door for Trudie.
She slid out of the cab. Jessup reluctantly followed. It was a helluva note that a dog born and raised in Alaska didn’t like the snow. All the malamutes and huskies wanted to romp in the snow—Jessup just wanted to get the hell out of the stuff.
“I see Petey’s been here,” Trudie said.
Knox handed Trudie the take-out boxes. “I knew it’d be dark by the time I got Elsa settled and then got out here.” He grabbed the soft-sided cooler out of the back seat. “And you know how much I like shoveling snow.” For twenty bucks Petey, the part-time prospector who also ran the closest thing to a taxi service in Good Riddance, had come out and cleared a path to the front door. It had been worth every cent.
Trudie laughed. “Yeah, it’s not high on my top-ten list of ways to spend my time.”
Knox unlocked the door and reached inside, flipping on the light switch. Jessup pushed past them—he was a good dog even if he was a wimp. Knox motioned for Trudie to precede him. Her arm brushed against him and heat flashed through him. He entered behind her, closing the door, leaving the dark and snow on the other side.
He simply stood still for a moment as memories and Mormor’s absence washed over him. He’d thought he was ready for this, but he wasn’t so sure now. He was glad Trudie was here.
Ironically, while everything in his life and his world had changed, nothing had changed inside the cabin.
It remained one big room with a small half-bath off to the side. A pullout sofa and armchair upholstered in a worn plaid dominated one half of the room. The kitchen, with a scarred oak table and mismatched chairs, sat on the other. A loft ran across the back of the cabin, a ladder granting access. Up top was a double bed where Knox had always bunked down. Below, tucked beneath the loft area, was another double bed that had been Mormor’s sleep spot. A pot-bellied wood-burning stove sat between the sofa and the bathroom. A Big Mouth Billy Bass singing fish was mounted on the wall over the sofa. The Knudson brothers had always had a sense of humor.
Memories of laughter and Chrismooses past crowded him. He sprang into action, which struck him as a far better plan than drowning in nostalgia.
“I’ll get the stove started.” It was so cold inside the cabin, their breath formed smoke rings. “It’ll warm up in no time.”
Petey had also laid a fire in the stove. Knox just needed to light it. Within minutes warmth began to dissipate the room’s chill.
He sat on the sagging plaid sofa and Trudie perched in the matching chair. So much for her sharing the sofa with him but it was just as well because Trudie had become temptation incarnate. He laughed as he eyed the take-out containers on the scarred coffee table. “Now that the burgers and fries are cold...”
Trudie laughed in return. “Hey, they go with the beer.”
“Remember when—”
“Remember when—”
They spoke simultaneously.
“You ran out of gas?” Trudie said. They’d planned to go fishing and picked up some burgers, figuring they could make the trip there and back without gassing up. They’d been wrong.
Knox nodded. “Yep. The burgers were cold in the cab...”
“And the beer froze back in the truck bed.”
“I know,” Knox said. “That’s when I started using a cooler and putting it behind the seat.”
For a few seconds their awkwardness disappeared in the shared memory. Knox bit into the burger. As always it was cooked to perfection. One of Lucky’s signature touches was topping each burger with grilled onions—grilled but still crunchy. “Even cold Lucky’s burgers are good.”
“I know,” Trudie said, speaking around a mouthful.
The firewood popped and snapped merrily in the stove and a contentment he’d not known for a long time stole through him. An awareness he’d never had before was present—an awareness of Trudie as not just a buddy but a woman. The lamp on the end table between the chair and couch etched her features against the shadows beyond.
Her straight nose had the slightest tilt at the end and her chin came to a cute point. Her hair curved slightly toward her cheeks and he noticed how her cheekbones defined her face. She was beautiful in a way he’d never noticed before—not the in-your-face coiffed beauty of Elsa, but warmer, less manufactured. Elsa was like a flawlessly groomed Persian cat while Trudie was a short-haired Siamese.
As with any other animal, the Persian and Siamese were both great breeds, it was just a matter of what suited your taste.
“How’s that?”
“Well, it’s gotten bigger and Merrilee asked me if I’d work in some floral arrangements. One of the things we discussed was keeping it true to the area. Tomorrow I’m on the hunt for materials.”
“Need any help?”
Trudie paused and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she spoke. “Look, I want to keep things smooth and calm in my life. I don’t want you coming with me if it’s going to stir up tension with Elsa. That’s not why I’m here and that’s not what I want.” She looked past him to the stove. “It took me some time to work through missing you, not having you in my life. I don’t want to go through that adjustment again.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You’ve already apologized and I’ve accepted. I’m not looking for another apology. I’m just saying I don’t want to argue over Elsa again, I don’t want Elsa giving you ultimatums and one day you’re in my life and the next day you’re not.”
“It sounds as if you’re giving ultimatums now.”
Trudie shrugged. “Maybe, although I don’t think so. I’m just being straight-up with you.”
It was Knox’s turn to pause. He wanted to tell Trudie the deal—that he was only here with Elsa for appearance’s sake, that he and Elsa were on the exit plan—but that didn’t quite seem right. He also wanted to tell her that Elsa wouldn’t make it an issue, but she would. He was beginning to see things a little more clearly than he had in a long time.
However he could handle Elsa. As for Trudie’s other concern— “So, I’m not doing another disappearing act again. What time do you want to get started tomorrow?”