The Winter Before

by Karen Crompton

  Something unfurled itself inside Olivia’s body, just a small flicker of light twisting its way through her limbs, and as she registered the stark contrast between one side of his face and the other, her chest grew tight just with the thinking of how painful Isaac’s life must have been all these years.

  Her sharp intake of breath drowned out everything else around them and there was suddenly no other noise. No wind, no rustling in the trees, no meadowlarks crooning in the distance, and Isaac wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

  He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, rigid, feeling more ashamed and uncertain of himself than he’d ever felt before.

  The exaggerated rise and fall of Olivia’s chest was evident, and she was still looking up at him, blinking slowly, but she wasn’t staring at him the way most people did.

  Her face instead was one of wonder and intrigue, like an artist studying a blank canvas, as if she was trying to work out exactly what colors she might need to paint his portrait.

  She was looking through him, past him, over him, inside him—careful to notice every tiny detail, and time stood still, but Isaac’s mind sped up. He’d never had anyone watch him so closely before. It’s what he’d always been hoping for. To have someone really look at him, to really see him despite his scars.

  But now that it was happening.

  He wasn’t sure he liked it.

  Olivia got the undeniable feeling that she was bothering Isaac. He still hadn’t said anything, despite the fact that she’d practically just given him her entire life story in thirty seconds flat.

  She’d told him about the funeral, and inheriting the house, the fuse box, and how she was terrified of the dark. Yes, she was rambling. She did that when she was nervous, and Isaac Stone made her nervous.

  “Uh, yeah, so anyway… I knocked a few times but you mustn’t have heard me. I was hoping you might be able to help. With the fuse box?”

  Isaac stared wordlessly at his bare feet.

  Okay? He was a little strange, there was no denying that, but at least he hadn’t ordered her off his property just yet. That was a start, right?

  “Like I said, the fuse box must have tripped. Hence, I don’t have any electricity. And no electricity, no light.”

  Isaac frowned. He glanced ever so briefly over Olivia’s shoulder, his gaze directed toward Eleanor’s house. Olivia watched Isaac closely, but again, he gave nothing away. Not a hint of what might be going through his mind.

  Instead, he looked deep in thought, as if he was missing something that maybe he should have figured out on his own, and was just now putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

  Eventually, he tipped his head to one side, his hair falling like a thick curtain between them. “It’s dark.”

  Olivia sighed with relief when Isaac finally spoke. Again that was all he said, and under normal circumstances she might have thought his clipped response to be rather impolite, not to mention pointing out the glaringly obvious.

  But as it was, she was too distracted by the way his lips were softly parted now and how she could see two rows of straight white teeth hidden beneath them.

  She nodded with a small laugh. “Yes, that’s why I’m here. It’s dark.”

  “You said you were scared of the dark.”

  “Yes.”

  “You walked over here in the dark.”

  Olivia rubbed her hand over her forehead. This man was kinda frustrating. “Yes, I know. But if I didn’t come now, then I wouldn’t have light all night. And I’ve still got a lot to do. I was hoping you might be able to take a look at the fuse box for me?”

  Talk about going around in circles.

  Isaac nodded just once, and then turned and disappeared inside the house for a few moments, leaving the door open just wide enough behind him for Olivia to peek around the living room.

  Surprisingly, the inside of the house, from what little she could see, was just as neat and tidy as the yard. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture inside, but it was clean and modern and there was a fluffy white rug on the floor situated between the couch and a huge flat screen television that had been mounted up on the wall. A timber side table sat beside the couch with a bottle of water on it, and a bowl of something she couldn’t make out.

  Before Olivia could get a better look, Isaac suddenly reappeared again wearing a pair of sneakers on his feet. He’d pulled on a black hoodie, and he was carrying a screwdriver in one hand, a torch shoved into the back pocket of his sweatpants. The weight of the torch tugged at the waistband and Olivia had to tear her eyes away for fear of being caught gaping at the lean slither of pale skin she could see just below the bottom of his sweatshirt.

  Isaac gestured for Olivia to move out of his way.

  Arrogant, much?

  She rolled her eyes and stepped to one side, wondering if her expression showed exactly how put off she was by his abruptness. He closed the door behind him and then strode with long legs across the field toward the Ackerman place, apparently not concerned one way or the other if he was being followed.

  “Hey, wait for me!” Olivia traipsed quickly behind, scrambling after him. Her shoes crunched on the rocks and pebbles, her short legs taking two steps for every one of Isaac’s long strides.

  No response. Surprise, surprise.

  Isaac just kept walking, and Olivia kept following.

  When they reached the house, Isaac pointed to the front porch, as if silently telling her to wait there for him while he went around to the opposite side of the house. Or at least that’s what she guessed he meant. He certainly didn’t say those exact words. He didn’t say any words. He just pointed, grumbled something inaudible under his breath and then disappeared into the darkness.

  “Guess I’ll just wait here then,” Olivia muttered. She inhaled deeply, the edge of something playing on her nerves that she couldn’t quite put a name to. The cold night air slithered up and down her body and she couldn’t wait to get back inside again.

  Minutes ticked by, and Olivia rocked back and forth, nervously swaying from one foot to the other while she waited for Isaac to return.

  God, it was dark.

  Other than the soft glow of the residual light still coming from the Stone residence, it seemed like the only other source of light for miles around came from the few stars in the sky above.

  Where was Isaac? Why wasn’t he back yet?

  A few moments later there was a whirring sound, and then the entire house suddenly lit up—the living room light, the lamp on the side table, the kitchen light—all illuminated brightly in the otherwise gloomy space.

  Olivia expelled a sharp breath. “Yes!”

  An enormous bear-shaped shadow rounded the corner, threatening in its scope, and Isaac was suddenly standing in front of her again. The air got colder, as though any lingering fragments of warmth had been sucked away with the coming of light, or maybe it was just Isaac’s intimidating gaze that sucked any warmth from the porch.

  Around a dry throat, Olivia said quietly, “Thank you.”

  There may have been a slight movement from beneath Isaac’s beard, but it was hard to tell. His eyes were lighter now than they were earlier, less intense. But his expression changed as he glanced up, noticing the shattered shards of glass that were once a light bulb hanging from the rafters. His brows furrowed for a fraction of a second.

  Then his face was a blank canvas once more.

  Olivia made a mental note to add light bulb to her list of things to pick up at the hardware store the following morning. She’d added to her list room by room, deciding the kitchen could use a few open shelves, the carpet needed cleaning, and the entire place could use a fresh coat of paint. And that was just for starters.

  “Would you like to come in?” she suddenly blurted out.

  Crap. She hadn’t meant to say it, and she wasn’t entirely sure she really wanted Isaac Stone alone with her inside the house. Her father would have a field day if he knew about that one. But she’d said it now. And there w
as no going back.

  So she took another deep breath, squared her shoulders, and simply went with it.

  “I mean… well, I was thinking of ordering a pizza or something. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to join me?”

  Isaac stared back at her, blankly. He said nothing.

  “For dinner?”

  Again, nothing.

  In the silence that followed, Olivia could tell Isaac was weighing up the offer and maybe also her demeanor, deciding if he could trust her or not. The silent impasse dragged on for one whole minute, and then another, before Isaac slowly shook his head and eventually said, “No.”

  Olivia wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  No.

  That was it. Wow.

  She might have laughed if she wasn’t so shocked. He really was a man of few words. She thought he might elaborate, come up with some fancy excuse to get out of a dinner-date he obviously didn’t want to have any part of.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he just stood there, warily watching her from beneath his long hair and even longer lashes.

  “Okay, well… thanks for—”

  “I run.” Isaac’s back rose slightly with an exaggerated breath. “That’s why I can’t stay. I run.”

  “You run?”

  “Yes.”

  Olivia tried not to smile. Why did she feel such an instant sense of relief? Was she pleased by the fact that he wasn’t blowing her off for no reason? Heat bloomed low in her belly, a strange feeling she certainly wasn’t accustomed to.

  The thought of Isaac Stone running was strangely appealing to her. Imagining those lean muscles she’d witnessed earlier gliding beneath his damp skin, contorting with every stride, made her breath shallow and her thoughts deep. She laughed shyly. “I couldn’t run to save myself. I like cookies too much.”

  A thin breath of air, a minuscule noise that might have gone unnoticed if it weren’t so deathly quiet in the world around them—but Olivia caught it and she blushed when she noticed Isaac’s lips lift ever so slightly at the corners. Did he find her amusing? It was impossible to tell. But there was something about the boyishness of that tiny smile that made her chest swell and a hazy light fill her head.

  But it was gone just as quickly as it had happened, and in a millisecond Isaac was back to being a giant wall of impenetrable stone. Stone by name, and stone by nature, she thought to herself.

  “Why do you enjoy running?”

  “It gives me time to think.”

  “Think about what?”

  “Getting lost.”

  Olivia blinked, gliding her fingers nervously through her long ponytail. “That sounds scary. Why would you want to get lost?”

  Isaac pressed his teeth into his bottom lip, hesitating again. He looked at her, and then he looked at the cherry bracelet on her wrist. He blinked a couple of times, staring at it as if he was trying to make sense of something. He looked confused, and maybe a little shocked, which made no sense whatsoever.

  Finally he sighed heavily and took a step backward, making his way down the porch stairs, one by one, until he was standing out on the grass.

  “Goodnight, Miss Parker.”

  “Please, call me Oliv—”

  But it was too late. Olivia was talking to nothing but dark skies, open fields, and the frigid night air.

  For Isaac Stone was already gone.

  The small township of Woodlake was just coming to life the following morning when Olivia slid a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls out from the oven, placing them into the display case at the front window of Sweetie Pies—an old-fashioned bakery her family had owned for decades, passed down from one generation to the next.

  It was the kind of bakery where folks congregated to catch up on all the local gossip, sharing booths and tables, enjoying freshly baked pastries and their morning dose of caffeine, all while going about their daily business.

  White lace curtains covered the windows at the front of the store, and the entire space smelt of sweet icing, sugary desserts and freshly brewed coffee.

  Olivia always worked the morning shift by choice. It was the busiest time of day, and keeping occupied made the hours pass quickly.

  As she dived into the morning rush, taking orders and re-filling empty coffee cups, her mind wandered over the peculiar events of the past twenty-four hours.

  She’d inherited a house, that part was still freaking her out. And of course, there was the mysterious timber box that she’d not given near enough attention to since Mayor Dell had handed it over. But on top of all that, she’d just spent her first full night living away from her parent’s home.

  She was finally free, and with that freedom came the most overwhelming sense of weightlessness. She could tread a little lighter and the future somehow seemed clearer. Things were changing. And they were changing for the better.

  “Table six is up!”

  Mr. Parker stood behind the chest-high counter where the orders were stacking up, one on top of the next. He was swamped, but that was the way he liked it most.

  “And can you let table four know their croissants will be ready in five minutes.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Ham and cheese? Seriously? Way to ruin a perfectly good pastry. What the hell’s wrong with butter and jam?”

  Olivia smiled, tucking her order pad back into the pocket of her apron, and she grabbed the two plates off the counter, heading to the booth in the furthest corner of the room.

  She got the sense that things would settle down with her father sooner or later, once he got used to the idea of her living out from under his roof. It might take a while, but the day would come. After all, he was already out of the brooding stage. Now he was just bitter and sarcastic.

  So, back to normal.

  The small bell that hung above the front door chimed and Olivia glanced back over her shoulder to find Mayor Dell strolling into the bakery, his protruding belly leading the way. She smiled at him as he headed toward the counter. “Any fresh leads on what’s inside the box, Liv?”

  “Nope.”

  “All in good time,” she heard him mutter as she rounded the corner for table six.

  But Olivia came to a dead stop when she noticed who was seated there.

  Her mouth set in a hard line. She stood motionless for a few seconds, maybe more, before she dropped the two plates down on the table with a loud clank.

  “Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Kyle Mason rocked back on the legs of his chair. He folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “Get out on the wrong side of the bed, did we?”

  “What are you doing here?” Olivia’s jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

  Kyle’s hair was in desperate need of a trim and his clothes looked like he’d slept in them, but somehow he still managed to pull the look off. A group of teenage girls in the next booth over weren’t immune to his bad-boy charms. They were practically drooling, glued to the sight of him and knowing Kyle, he’d probably take full advantage of it later on.

  But for the moment, Kyle’s eyes were on no one but Olivia. They roamed leisurely over her body, familiarity clearly shining in his lewd gaze. They had a history. Yes. But that history was tainted, thick with regret as far as Olivia was concerned.

  “You should leave.”

  Kyle fell forward on the chair so that the legs hit the floor. His friend who sat opposite him, Riley Malone—a boy both Olivia and Kyle had gone to school with, and who lived just on the other side of Woodlake—laughed and mumbled something under his breath that Olivia didn’t quite catch. But she could only imagine. She’d never especially liked Riley. He was always mean to other kids, pulling pranks and making anyone smaller than him the butt of his jokes.

  “I’m busy!” Olivia snapped.

  “You know, for someone who just inherited a house, and a box full of hell knows what, you’d think a guy could at least get a pretty smile from his waitress.”

  He reached for Olivia’s thigh and she instantly slapped his
hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

  Kyle’s eyes hardened as quickly as the wind changed. “You’re a spoilt brat. You know that, Parker. You’re always getting your own way. I can’t believe that stupid old bitch left you a house. A fucking house!”

  Olivia turned to leave, but Kyle caught her wrist and spun her back toward him so hard and fast that she wobbled on her feet. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks for the box.” He leaned to one side and yanked his wallet from his back pocket just as Olivia yanked her slim hand from beneath his thick fingers. “One hundred dollars. I’ll even swing by and pick it up myself.”

  “Oh yeah, sure, Kyle, swing by whenever you want.” Olivia flinched as anger sparked through her, the obvious sarcasm dripping from her voice. “You come anywhere near the place, and I’ll call the police.”

  Regretting her words instantly, she realized that Sheriff Mason was ‘the police’ in Woodlake, and Kyle knew as well as she did that calling the Sheriff on his only son would never amount to much. Never had before, and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

  Before he could say anything else, she added, “And you can keep your damn money. Mrs. Ackerman wanted me to have that box. Not you. In fact, you’re the last person she would want to have it, so stick your money where the sun don’t shine, and don’t bother asking me again!”

  Beth Parker wandered past at that exact moment, carrying a tray of jam donuts in her hands.

  “Everything alright here?” she asked.

  She placed the tray down on the edge of the table. The red bandana covering her thinning hair slipped forward slightly, and she pushed it back out of her eyes with shaky fingers.

  “Everything’s fine, Mrs. P. I was just making our Livvy here an offer she’d be crazy to refuse. Maybe I should sweeten the deal by throwing in a—”

  “Maybe you ought to high-tail it back to wherever it is you came from, and we’ll just go ‘bout our day like we never even seen you here in the first place.” Mrs. Parker’s tired eyes tapered sharply. She wasn’t playing around, and Kyle damn well knew it. The air crackled with tension and he thought better of challenging her.