by Donna Kunkel
****
Alex sat down and played with her vegetable soup. As soon as she swallowed her first spoonful, she couldn’t stop until the bowl was empty. She had just finished drying the last dish when Steve came back in. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’ll avoid using as many fragrances as I can tomorrow.” She picked up the polish remover and headed toward the barn. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have to get the chipped polish off.” She held up a hand and waggled her fingers. “And even I hate the way it stinks.”
Once finished, she came back in, tossed the tissues in the fire, and washed her hands.
“We can read for several hours before we have to do the late afternoon chores.” He kept his face turned to his book, but his eyes would flick over to her every so often.
His frame fit one of the leather chairs perfectly. “What chores do you have in the afternoon?”
“I milk Anna Belle, and you can make sure the water buckets are full. We also need to clean up any messes in the barn. It won’t take nearly as long as the morning chores. After we’re done, I’ll fix us some dinner.”
“If you show me what needs to be cleaned up, I’ll do that so you can start dinner sooner.”
“Deal. I hope you like to read.”
“Love to, but I can never seem to find enough time.”
“Look around and find something. The mysteries are in the bedroom, action stories out here on the left, and the right side contains everything else.”
Alex walked over to the mantel. There were several large crystals placed here and there on the wood timber. She looked over to the shelves. Bookshelves ran the length of the wall from floor to ceiling, covering all the available wall space. The shelves had been packed full and books were squeezed in above the vertical novels filling up the available spaces. She scanned the shelves carefully, half-expecting to see a cat balancing along the front edge or wedged between some books. Every good library needed a cat.
No cat.
She scanned the titles looking for something interesting. Almost everything here was fiction except a few reference books near the door. Then she spotted a book about chickens. Maybe this would give her some insight that might help. She curled up in the chair. The soft, supple leather cradled her body. It felt good to sit down, relax, and read, although she’d probably fall asleep in minutes. Now all she needed was a bowl of popcorn and a tall, cold soda. She wouldn’t get popcorn or soda until she got home. Oh well, she sighed.
She relaxed and started browsing. There were sections on raising chicks, designing a coop, daily care, and several others that weren’t useful to her. She finally got to the section about the different breeds. As she paged through, she identified some of the breeds he had. According to the descriptions they were all supposed to be friendly, except for the brown Rhode Island Reds, which could be aggressive. No shit. No wonder they’d gone after her.
She identified the speckled hen that followed her as a Speckled Sussex, and the black and white striped ones as Barred Plymouth Rocks. They were supposed to be docile, so why did they go after her? Could they have been mimicking the Reds? Some sort of gang mentality?
Tomorrow she’d see if by collecting the eggs from all the other birds before the Reds would help. The book also talked about grabbing the bird by the tail and lifting it so you could remove the egg if the bird was brooding. She’d give that a try, if she could bring herself to grab a chicken’s butt. On cleaning, the book talked about sweeping the whole floor. But Steve had only cleaned under the perches and one corner, the rest of the floor had been free of poop. That was strange. Why would his birds do that? It wasn’t like litter-box training a cat. Could you train a bunch of hens to do that?
Enough about chickens. She re-shelved the chicken book and pulled out a Sherlock Holmes novel she hadn’t read. She turned the book around and was surprised to find it dust free. After checking out several different locations, she still didn’t find any dust. He obviously cared about his collection of books to spend time dusting all the shelves. But then, his whole cabin was clean.
Not like her apartment. She hadn’t seen the top of her dining room table in years. Mail migrated to the horizontal surface regardless of how hard she tried to throw it away. The end table near her favorite chair was almost as bad. She at least managed to keep the rest of the apartment clutter-free. How could she keep everything else so meticulously organized, but let her mail get so out of hand? She ought to make an effort to do better in the future—when she finally got back home.
She settled back down in the comfy chair. The fire crackled and popped. Her head drooped and she fell asleep before even getting to page three.
****
Steve tried to concentrate on his book, but he kept looking over at Alex. His thoughts wandered all over the place as he watched her sleep. Her fingers twitched and the book started sliding. He jumped up and grabbed the book before it could hit the floor. After sticking a bookmark in, he placed it on the table. Her fingers, eyes, and mouth continued to twitch as she slept. Her lips shimmered in the firelight. Kissable lips.
How was he going to co-exist with a woman? He lived out here so he could be alone. He visited his neighbors whenever he wanted to, but not every day, all day long. At least a woman should be easier to get along with than a man might be. He’d never lived with a woman before.
She snorted and curled up in the chair.
Would she get on his nerves? If so, could he convince his neighbors to let her stay with them part of the time? The chores would be easier with another pair of hands. She’d eventually build up enough muscle so she could handle the buckets more easily.
He had to admit she was attractive, even in his clothes. Her hair shimmered in the flickering light. Maybe he’d enjoy this after all. No—he needed to keep his distance and keep her safe. Maybe treat her like a sister. He could take care of a sister until the roads reopened. Concentrate on the book, not her.
After reading for a couple of hours, he decided to rearrange his closet so she could have some space. As soon as he entered the bedroom, he caught the faint fragrance of roses and apples. Her scent. Now his clothes would be picking up this fragrance. For some reason he didn’t mind. He cleared off several shelves and emptied some space on the rod next to the door. A few pieces of clothing sat next to her open suitcase on the bed. He picked up the items and a soft, delicate fabric slid through his fingers to fall on the floor. A pair of pink underwear. He imagined how it would feel to have something this soft against his skin, or to run his hands over her with these on. No. Keep thinking of her as a sister, not an attractive woman. He snatched up the garment and tossed everything in the hamper.
He went back out, sat down again, and picked up his book. His thoughts kept straying back to her scent. Only with great effort was he able to concentrate on his book. After another hour or so it was time to do the evening chores. He got up and brushed some of her wayward hair off her face. His fingers barely grazed Alex’s soft skin; she stayed asleep. He clasped her shoulder and shook her awake then headed back out to the barn.
Anna Belle followed him to her pen. As he milked, his mind strayed back to Alex. This is going to be more difficult than I originally thought.
Over dinner they talked about bits and pieces of their past, about the pets they’d had, including his childhood turtle and her white rabbit. An hour had passed before they cleaned up the dishes. He was surprised about how easy she was to talk to. After finishing, they sat in front of the fire and watched the flames dancing across the logs.
He broke the silence. “I cleared some space for you in the closet and tossed the clothes that were on the bed in the hamper. I figured you wouldn’t want the creases to set in, even if you’re only here for a couple of days. You should get everything unpacked tomorrow morning and add the rest of your dirty clothes to the hamper. I can loan you some t-shirts to wear under your sweaters, but I don’t know if what you have will be warm enough. Sweat pants and my flannel shirts might help keep you war
m.”
“Sorry I slept through the afternoon. I should have emptied my suitcase instead of sleeping. Thanks for giving me some closet space.”
“No problem.” Except for the pantie thing. “I’m sure you were worn out.”
“Yeah, I’m not used to doing physical labor.” Mandy moved to Alex’s side and leaned against her legs. Alex absentmindedly stroked the furry head.
“I usually turn in early since I get up so early.”
“I know. When your light went out as I approached your cabin, I nearly freaked.”
“Sorry, but I didn’t know I was expecting company.” He broke his gaze from the fire to her, to enjoy the way the firelight lit her face. “Where do you plan to sleep tonight?”
She squirmed in her chair as she debated her answer. “I’ll curl up on the floor and stay close to the fire.”
“It’ll get really hard.”
“That’s okay, I don’t want to impose on you any more than I have to. I’m not used to sharing a bed with anyone else.”
He got up and retrieved several blankets and a pillow for her. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” He made a quick stop in the bathroom then went to bed. Even he was tired tonight. The trip to the car and lugging her suitcase back through all the deep snow had exhausted him. He thought of Alex’s face as he drifted asleep.
****
Alex was still restless. She never went to bed this early and her afternoon nap had helped. Nothing to do but read some. At least the book was an interesting story. But still, she’d never imagined she’d be reading by candlelight. The twenty-first century and he still used candles. Okay, maybe it wasn’t candles, per say, but a kerosene lantern. Thank goodness the fireplace still flooded the room with heat. She couldn’t believe someone fairly young would choose to live like this. Maybe an old hermit, but not someone in their early twenties or thirties.
She couldn’t function without the Internet or her cell phone. How could she live for several weeks without visiting on Facebook? And to think she lugged her computer through all that snow for nothing. Could their lives be any more different? Oh yeah. He had livestock to take care of. She hadn’t seen a cow since her school years. Even then, she’d never spent much time with one up close—or chickens. The wizarding school she’d attended had classes in animal husbandry, but they’d only spent a little time with regular livestock. Most of their coursework had been on magical animals. Could she live like a pioneer?
She got up to get some more water, and Mandy wandered out of the bedroom to join her. Only after listening to Mandy’s slow breathing for a couple of hours, did Alex’s eyes droop. She placed her glasses on the side table, nestled down in the blankets, and Mandy stretched out next to her, warming her up all over. She eventually drifted off to sleep by listening to the fire’s crackles and pops.
She felt like she had just fallen asleep when Steve was shaking her to wake up. She cracked one eye open. “Whass up?” she mumbled. “It’s still dark.”
“Time for morning chores. Anna Belle won’t wait. She’s used to being milked at six.” He bustled around the kitchen making breakfast. “Come on and get up. The sooner we get started the sooner we finish.”
She dragged herself up off the floor and went to the bedroom to put the work clothes on as best as she could. Her hips ached from sleeping on the hard floor. After a quick meal they were out in the barn getting the chores done. Today the buckets of water seemed even heavier than yesterday. Anna Belle kept following her around while she finished up. When she walked in the henhouse, the birds went about their business. She swept the floor and gave them food and water. Then she started collecting eggs.
The brown hen cocked its head then turned its head so that one beady eye was locked on her. The eye followed her every move. As if a silent message had been sent, the rest of the birds in the boxes mimicked the brown hen. Now she had six beady eyes tracking her. The birds that had been wandering around stopped when the speckled hen sounded. The speckled hen flew up into one of the nesting boxes and the others followed suit.
Silence filled the coop. Now all the birds were watching her. Had she entered some kind of horror movie? Would the birds all swarm her and peck at her arms and head? So the chickens were going to be holy terrors. The first birds kept their eyes fastened to her as she retrieved the eggs. A black and white hen hit the back of her hand at the last second. The red bird didn’t wait but went for her hand the second it was close enough. The speckled hen fought her the whole time. The biddy actually drew blood. That bird had to have some vampire blood in her somewhere. Even so, she only got impaled three times. Alex eased her way back to the door. The hens stared. She slipped out the door and latched it shut.
The only redeeming fact was they were done a lot quicker today. Alex headed back to the bedroom to unpack. She laid her clothes out in piles, tossing anything dirty into the hamper. She started to toss her underwear, bras, and socks on a shelf, but stopped. At home she’d toss everything in a drawer and root around until she found what she wanted. But he had all his clothes carefully arranged by color. He was either obsessive compulsive or had too much time on his hands. Living out here it was probably the latter. She carefully organized everything on the two shelves.
As she hung up her shirts, she glanced around the top shelf. A polished turtle shell lay along the right-hand side. She pulled it down and traced the patterns on the shell. It had to have been the pet he’d talked about. She used the bottom of her t-shirt to polish it and eased it back on the shelf. Yesterday, as she was looking for a book, she didn’t see any knives or guns sitting around. There had to be some kind of weapon around for protection, but there wasn’t anything she could see in the living area.
Why would he have such a heavy door but no weapons? She did a basic search of the closet. Only clothes, no weapons. He had to have something. You wouldn’t live out here without some sort of protection. She listened. Steve was still in the shower. Time to check the rest of the bedroom. The shelves only held books. She dropped to her knees and lifted the bottom of the blankets.
A rifle. With a large diameter barrel. She pulled out a small box and found tranquilizer darts. Guess he didn’t want to kill any wildlife that got too close. She knew he had to have something, but as dusty as it was, it meant he rarely used it. The shower shut off. He’d be done in a few minutes. She pushed the box back, got up, and brushed off her pants.
The only thing left in her suitcase was the black satin, padded bag with her wand. To her it almost glowed with a light of its own. She had to wonder if it looked this way to someone else. She picked it up and slowly loosened the black cord drawstrings. She took a deep breath and slid her wand out. The dim light flickered across the cherry wood. A warmth and tingle passed through her fingers as the magic reached out to connect.
It was so tempting to use her magic to get the chores done. But that would be taking the easy way. No. She was going to remain strong and not use any magic as she’d promised herself. This would be the perfect time to go without using magic. No accidental slip-ups. She’d bury the wand in her suitcase so she wouldn’t pick it up without thinking. At home she kept catching herself using her wand for simple things.
“Shower’s free,” Steve called out from the living room. “Is everything okay?”
She could hear his tread approaching. “Everything’s fine. I’m finishing unpacking,” she answered, trying to give herself a few more moments. She slipped the wand back in the satin bag and pulled the top shut. Then she slipped it back in the suitcase’s inside pocket as Steve’s shadow fell across the doorway.
“Did I give you enough room?”
Alex zipped the suitcase shut. “Plenty. Thanks.” She carried the suitcase into the closet and buried it under her shirts. After re-emerging, she picked up her clothes and headed to the bathroom for a shower. She would have given anything to have been able to let the soothing water massage her sore muscles. But after a quick rinse, she dressed, went back to the living room,
curled up in the chair, and immediately fell back to sleep.
She didn’t wake up until she felt someone gently stroking her hair off her face. Her head leaned into his touch, wanting more.
“Alex. It’s time for some lunch,” he whispered.
She gently touched his fingers as they brushed more hair back. “Okay, I’m getting up,” she mumbled. She took his hand to help her stand, shuffled over to the table, and plopped into a chair.
Steve pushed a warm cup of tea into her hand. “Drink this, it should help.” He closed her fingers around the cup.
After finishing one full cup, she was able to eat lunch. It took eating lunch and drinking two cups of tea before she finally woke up.
After all the lunch dishes were put away, she asked, “Mind if I familiarize myself with your kitchen?”
“Have at it,” Steve said.
She went from cabinet to cabinet. A partial package of tea was tucked behind some spices. She placed it on the table, along with any other tea packets she came across.
“If you need any help, holler.” Steve carried his glass of water over to his chair and sat down to read.
Mandy plopped down in front of the fire.
Alex finished inspecting the kitchen and took the tea out to the storeroom. She searched the shelves. There were cans of vegetables and fruit, but no chips or other junk food. She’d be eating healthier than she usually did. Another partial tea box had fallen behind some of the cans. She placed all the tea and a partial container of hot chocolate next to the soda.
On the bottom, she found a bag of sweet potatoes and noticed a slight reflection. She pulled the potatoes out and looked back under the shelf. A heavy-duty chain attached four steel shackles together. The gear reminded her of stories she’d heard about using something like this to hobble an animal so it couldn’t run away. It would be a big animal with cuffs that large. Placed here, in such an out-of-the-way spot, must mean he rarely used them. But then with a tranquilizer gun, why would he even need the chains? She shivered. He took care of and loved his animals too much to be dangerous. She shoved the potatoes under the shelf and headed back to the house to read.