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North to Alaska

Page 6

by Olivia Gaines


  His hands clamped around her and his mouth came to hers. Morning breath and all, he didn’t care, he kissed her. It wasn’t a passionate take off your underwear kind of kiss, but one that promised when the time was right...

  “Amanda, maybe we can make a whole production out of it. Tie in weekly movie night with bath night, cocoa, maybe some wine,” he told her. She was still in his arms. She disengaged from him.

  Her mind was in overdrive, but she chose the right way to answer him, “A weekly bath sounds heavenly. What is in the other box?”

  She squealed again when Riley opened the box and she found a cooked 12-pound turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, and apple pie, a bag of apples, a bag of oranges, onions, a few bananas, and 12 packs of yeast. He didn’t understand why she was so happy about the yeast.

  “I can make us fresh bread. And cinnamon rolls,” the rest of the list he didn’t hear. She was so happy. Her face was lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, and a thud hit his chest. I am falling for this woman. He wasn’t certain if he had crossed the line of falling in love with her, but he did feel something mighty powerful. Either way, no matter how he was falling, he was over the edge. Husband. I’m going to be her husband. I just have to figure out how.

  Once they were both cleaned up and ready to start the day, he asked her to work in the main room. “It is cold today, and I want to keep that bedroom door closed to conserve the heat,” he told her.

  “Won’t it be easier to warm up for tonight if it is opened all day?” She asked.

  He watched her face when he gave his response, “Yes, but it means that you will also have to sleep with the door open. It will require us to use more wood.”

  “Then we make another path back to the smoke house, pull those stores for inside here for the next two weeks,” she said with a challenge in her voice. “Plus we have not tapped the wood in front of the house yet.”

  Riley loved how her eyes sparkled when she was trying to make a point. He countered her comment just to see her eyes dance, “That wood is for January and February,” he told her.

  “So you are saying we need to be a bit more conservative, in the usage, even when I am cooking,” she said absently.

  “We can do that, but again, the bedroom door will need to remain open,” he said firmly. Riley made a point of not going to the bathroom at night, since he didn’t want to enter the room and make her feel unsafe. He was also unaware that Amanda kept a small figurine behind the door, which she checked each morning. And each morning when she awoke, she found that the little froggy had not moved. He was not peeking in the room at night, watching her sleep.

  “I can do that, but we will need to seal up any open cracks and crevices to keep out the cold. The snow has packed it in, but cold begets cold,” she said as she squared her shoulders at him.

  Dear Lord, she was exquisite. The grin that came next evolved from somewhere inside of him. He was gone. Rational thought had left him. “You know what? We get to have some fresh squeezed orange juice this morning. I think I saw some eggs in there as well.”

  “No! Save the eggs so I can make us a cake,” she said. Amanda grabbed a skillet and he got the coffee moving. The rest of the day, he worked on a piece of furniture while she typed away on the novel that was taking shape into something rather decent for her first try. It had not escaped her that he was asking for more trust from her by leaving the bedroom door open.

  At dinner over the turkey, she drifted away to fonder memories of Aunt Linnie and her sweet potato pies. She cooked so many during Thanksgiving that it became a side business. She sold the pies for $5 each. For four solid days, the kitchen became the Aunt Linnie Sweet Potato Pie Factory. This memory she shared with him.

  Amanda looked deep in his eyes when she spoke to him, “I am really thankful for everything she taught me. What about you, Riley? I would love to hear some more about you.”

  His eyes were focused on the cranberry sauce. “This cabin belonged to our father. It was his hunting cabin, so I actually did grow up here,” he told her. “My father moved here before I was born to mine for gold. After the first winter, he built a house and sent for my Ma and Ronnie. I lived here, went to school here, and when I finished high school I joined the Army. I was a military police officer. I served for 8 years.” He told her as he watch her eyes. She needed to know the rest.

  “After I came back from Iraq, I was a broken man. My heart, my spirits, my sense of self. My dad was the sheriff then, but he got caught up here after the second snow and tried to make it down the mountain. His truck skidded and that was that,” he told her.

  “It didn’t help my depression. It was only worsened by my fiancé, who lived in the lower 48, deciding she didn’t want to live in the butt crack of Alaska. She dumped me.” There was no bitterness or sadness in his voice.

  Amanda touched his hand, “I’m sorry Riley.”

  He smiled at her, “Don’t be. I am a simple guy who has led a simple uncomplicated life. Recently, the idea to have some children and settle down crossed my mind, but you have to have the right woman you know. We are snowed in a lot around here.” There was something different in her eyes as she listened to what he was saying. Pity? Is she feeling sorry for me?

  He shrugged it off. “Love happens at the most inopportune times. We love whom we love and when we are ready, we find a soul to love us back.” When he looked up, the color had drained from her face.

  “Amanda, what’s wrong?” Did I say something untoward that offended her?

  “Those words. Those exact words,” she jumped up from the table and ran to the bedroom. She grabbed her bag and pulled out the letters and brought them back to the table. She moved the turkey and laid out all of the photos and the huge stack of envelopes that Cullen had sent.

  Her eyes scanned each document until she found it. “Cullen said those exact words to me in a letter. In that exact order.”

  Riley’s eyes were focused on the letters as well. He stood up slowly and went into the kitchen. He pulled down what looked to be a crock for storing fat. Inside was a stack of letters he had written to Mary Jane, his fiancé, when he returned from Iraq. When they broke up, she had sent them all back to him. He had all but forgotten them. “I’m so sorry, Amanda. He must have found these and copied what he thought you wanted to hear.”

  Her heart was racing. The tears were welling up and she was angry. The rotten bastard had lied and seduced her with someone else’s words. “They weren’t even his own words! He lied to me about that, too!”

  Riley wanted to hold her, but he didn’t trust himself. Instead, he said what should have been obvious to her, “The irony, in this whole conundrum, is the man you fell in love with in those letters is the man you are locked in with.”

  It did nothing for her spirits. The joys she had felt earlier in the morning were replaced with a gloom that hung over her for the next week. No matter how hard she tried to shake the darkness, it would not go away. She felt like a damned fool. A hopeless romantic that had been made into a fool.

  Nothing could push away the darkness that crept up beside her, wrapped his arm about her shoulder and pulled her into a cold place. A place where she wanted to hide and stay.

  Chapter 12. Amanda, it’s time for your bath...

  No matter how much she tried to cut through the gloom, she could not rid herself of the numbness of being so stupid. Her desire to be loved by someone and have a family was all she wanted. For once in her tired, boring, overly structured life, she had given in to a whim and now she was stuck. There was some money left from the sale of Aunt Linnie’s house, but where would I go, what would I do? The tears would not leave her eyes for long. As soon as she stopped crying, she would start again.

  The despondency that was taking her under into the dark cavern was too much for Riley. He could no longer stomach it. He grabbed the tub from the back of the house and warmed the bottom of metal by the fire. Amanda lay in bed, staring at the wall; she had not written a word in
days. It took him nearly twenty minutes to get the tub filled with enough water for her to soak in for a while. “Amanda, it’s time for your bath.”

  Riley helped her up from the bed and left her alone as she disrobed and slipped into the water. “Do I need to help you wash your hair?”

  “No, it only needs to be washed once a month in the winter,” she told him.

  “Whoa, once a month? That’s kind of nasty,” he was frowning at her.

  She shook her head, “No your hair is naturally oily. Ours is naturally dry. Too much washing strips the natural oils, causing it break off. Less is better in this case.”

  He told her he understood as he took the sponge and scrubbed her back. “I am adding an extra log to the fire. Soak for a while. I will leave you alone.”

  In the bedroom, he took his paints and created a warm and friendly scene on the bedroom wall of children playing in an open field. They were modified stick figures on splotchy painted fields of wildflowers. The birds were little M’s floating on a white wall, but if she stared, the wall was no longer blank. It took him the better part of an hour, but he was satisfied when it was done.

  “I love it,” she told him from the doorway.

  “I miss your smile, Amanda. I miss seeing you feel optimistic. I want your hope to come back,” he told her.

  She smiled at him. “I will be okay, Riley. I just have to suck it up and deal with my own stupidity.”

  Riley truly wanted to know, “May I ask what in the letters was the deciding factor? Which of my words did he copy to make you pack up and leave everything to come and be with that man? What did he say to make you want to be his wife?” “Family. He wanted to start a family,” she told him as her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t have one anymore, and I wanted to start one of my own.” The tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I’m just feeling stupid and sorry for myself. I’ll be back on track soon. Don’t worry, Riley; I’m going to be okay.”

  “Let me help you find your way back to happiness,” he said with a hunger in his eyes that made her step back. He continued coming at her until she had backed up into the living area. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her down into the straight back chair by the tub. The crackle of the fire warmed her legs. His hands pulled the cords of the robe, opening the fabric as she grabbed for it. Her eyes were full of concern. As he kneeled in front of her, Riley grabbed her leg and planted a kiss on her calf, moving upwards to her thigh until he reached the juncture between her thighs. Before she could protest, he face disappeared and his tongue was flicking back and forth.

  Amanda’s mouth was wide open as she tried to catch her breath. She didn’t try to stop him because she wanted to feel good. She wanted to be optimistic. She wanted the darkness to go away. Her knees opened to give him more access and he applied pressure with his mouth.

  “You taste as sweet as you are,” he told her. I have to know. I have to. He used his index finger and inserted it while his mouth brought her pleasure. His thick finger could barely make it inside of her. Untouched by a man. Riley unzipped his pants and unleashed the throbbing that was threatening to make him do something stupid. The tightness squeezing his finger turned him on so much, he was moaning louder than she was. With each lapping of his tongue, he moaned as if she were the best thing he had ever tasted. She grabbed a handful of his hair, as she pressed hard against his mouth, rocking her hips. Her breasts bounced as she lifted her hips off the chair, braced her foot on the side of the tub, and rolled her hips while his tongue worked.

  “Oh! Oh!” was all she could get out in between her moans of ecstasy. She found her release and he was so close.

  “What about you, Riley? What can I do to help you?”

  He lifted her from the seat, dropped his pants, staying in his long underwear as he pulled her onto his lap. The music only he could hear as his left hand cupped her breast and the right went to her delicate folds creating a private lap dance with a truly happy ending. His fingers were covered in her nectar. “Move with me, Baby. Move with me,” he told her. Riley’s hips gently moved against her until he found his release. His teeth sank into her shoulder while his fingers pinched her nipple. That sound. He made that sound again. His fingers were driving her insane as she found a second release, leaning back against him, feeling so much better about life.

  Hope was back.

  “Damn,” he said into the softness of her skin. His head was resting in her back between her shoulder blades.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “So that’s what all the fuss is about.” She stood up looking at him. “Riley,” she said.

  He was worn out. That one had zapped him out of all strength. He could barely raise his head. “Hmm.”

  “I’m smiling again. Thank you,” she told him.

  “Shit. The pleasure was all mine.”

  Amanda wanted him to know something, “Riley, I know why you came back.”

  His eyes were half closed and he was vulnerable to her. She knew it and he knew it. He confessed, “When I walked outside and saw you standing on that sidewalk, I wanted you for myself. I came back to steal you from him Amanda, so I could make you mine.”

  “I know Riley,” she whispered as she closed her robe. “And look where we are now.”

  They began to laugh as he looked at the bath water. He needed a bath but right now he wanted to cuddle and be held. She was turning him into a sensitive man who wanted to talk about his feelings. He felt pretty damned proud of himself. He had found himself a wife.

  The next few weeks went by pretty quickly. She was back into working in the bedroom with the sewing machine going full blast. When the sewing machine wasn’t going, the typewriter was. Christmas was in four days and he radioed his brother for another drop, which was due to arrive tomorrow.

  “Do you know how to ski?” he asked her.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Great, let’s go find a Christmas tree,” he told her with a lopsided grin.

  The snow was piled so high, they had to climb up a mound to even see the where the wood line was. She looked sharp in her bright red ski jacket as they set out carrying the skis towards the woods. It really looked as if it was going to be more work than either of them had planned.

  “I am okay without a tree, Riley. To me, Christmas is in the heart,” she told him.

  This was something he wanted to be special. Something he needed to do. It did not take long to find a sapling that he was able to chop down with ease. With some rope, he tied it off and wrapped the cording around his waist. The wind was picking up and beginning to howl. In the distance, she could see movement.

  Amanda pointed at the tree line. “I told you he would be back,” Riley said as he pointed towards the cabin. “Start moving and don’t look back.”

  She locked her boots into the skis. Left, right, left, her legs moved towards the cabin. Grateful they had not ventured too far away, she made good time. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she looked back. The little captive had returned with the whole family and they looked voracious. She picked up her speed as they rounded the corner; it was a downhill coast. Amanda bent at the waist, leaned forward, and let momentum guide her down the slight crest coming up around the barn. Cold hands unlocked the ski boots from the skis and she reached for the tree, pulling the rope from around his waist as he unfastened his skis. They were running at the fastest pace they could go in the snowy conditions. A loud howl was heard as the pack called for reinforcements.

  “Don’t look back. Run!” He yelled at her. It was too much damned trouble for this frickin’ tree, but she was not going to let go of it.

  She came to the last berm and scrambled over the top, sliding down the embankment and landing at the doorstep. She could hear the yapping, but could not tell how far away they were. She opened the back door and reached for the shotgun. She cocked and aimed as Riley came over the berm, and so did a very large and hungry wolf. The first shot was a warning. Riley slid down the berm, the wolf behind him. The anima
l opened his jaws to clamp down and Amanda fired. It was wounded, but not dead.

  Riley scrambled past her and pulled the tree into the cabin. Amanda backed in slowly and locked the door. She didn’t believe it; he was grinning.

  “We got a Christmas tree!” He said it with so much pride and accomplishment that she too felt happy about nearly being eaten by wolves for a tree that would have no decorations. Riley was humming as he took two pieces of wood and made a stand.

  He is doing this for me. He cares about me. Nothing about him is phony, fake, or false.

  For the past few weeks, she had slept with the bedroom door open to stay warm. Riley had never entered the room, not even to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Not only had he earned her respect, Riley had earned her trust and something else she would soon learn. He was also had earning her love.

  Chapter 12. Merry Christmas, Baby...

  The patterns that she had brought with her to make clothes and items for Cullen had to be modified for Riley’s size. She was pleased with what she had accomplished. She had made him a nice flannel robe and matching slippers with a coordinating pair of lounge pants. The book was halfway done and she was thinking that instead of a movie on bath night, she would read a chapter or two to him. He would be her beta reader.

  On the 23rd, she heard the motor again in the wee hours of the morning. She could see out the window, and thus far, based on her initial scan, there were no wolves. The box slid down the berm and landed at the back door, and Riley was extremely happy when it arrived.

  When he pulled out the contents of the box, she was happy as well. There was salmon, two chicken breasts, and two leg quarters. “I can make some fried chicken!” she yelled then looked at him. “Not a word, not even a crack, or a joke,” she told him with her eyes squinted.

  “What? I like fried chicken, too,” he chuckled.

  What had truly made him happy was a small box. When he opened it, there were ornaments inside along with thread and popcorn. “Ma sent some wrapping paper and tape as well.” The next item in the box embarrassed them both. His brother had sent a bottle of champagne, a box of condoms, some fireworks, and romantic intimate gels. Riley threw up his hands, “I didn’t ask for any of this stuff Amanda,” his eyes were bugged.

 

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