“Do you have any tea in your house?”

“Tea?” he echoed incredulously, as if I had said, poison.

I swallowed a smile. “Yes. Tea. You know, tea bags.”

“I know what tea is.” He sounded indignant. “No, I don’t have any.”

My smile broke through, anyway. Didn’t surprise me in the least. He struck me as the type of man who would broker nothing less than coffee, black as night, and hot enough to burn.

“I love tea,” I said conversationally.

“I don’t have any tea,” he repeated.

“Not yet you don’t,” I said, enjoying this little experiment in socializing a cross bear of a man who obviously hadn’t dealt with another person in years. “But I hope you’ll change that because I’d love to be offered a cup of tea each time I come to read to you. Perhaps you can consider it as part payment of our agreed fee. $49.00 plus a cup of tea.”

He was entirely silent. Even his breath was gone. I waited – anyone who wants to play a game of words must understand the value of silence.

“You’re not going to be easy because you’re blind, are you?” he exhaled.

I gave him my broadest smile. “Honey, you have no idea.”

“I’ll get you the tea,” he said, a mocking edge to his voice. “Although, you might need something stronger to soothe your nerves when you read the book I’ve got for you.”

My stomach tightened. He was flirting with me! Who flirts with a blind girl? I had never flirted with anyone in my life. I didn’t know how to. And yet with him, I felt bold and daring. I wanted to touch his face.

“Why?” I asked with a laugh. “Have you got naughty reading for the visually impaired?”

“Would you have minded if I did?”

“No. I’ve never read one so it’ll be a new experience for me.”

The fire crackled and spat. He didn’t know what to say. It would seem I had turned him speechless.

One day, I promised myself I would unravel him, the way a playful kitten unravels a ball of wool. I listened to my heart beating in my chest.

“What kind of tea?” he asked quietly.

At that moment, a loud thump came from the back of the house. Kit immediately pushed his chair back and stood. His heavy footfalls went straight toward the sound. He walked out into the back of the house, where I presumed the kitchen was, and opened the back door. There was another thump, this one louder, as well as a high-pitched whine.

“Stop that,” he scolded, his voice pitched so low it was almost a primitive growl.

Yes, he was definitely more animal than man. And sure enough, the thumps stopped. There was one more whine, this one almost resentful, and then the sound of rustling as whatever made the noise made a hasty retreat.

Kit returned to the room and sat down. I waited for an explanation the way a normal person would offer, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Oolong,” I said.

“What?” he barked.

“Oolong tea. That’s what I’d prefer.”

“Okay.”

I slipped my fingertips over my watch. How surprising. I’d already been in his house for twenty minutes. It was enough for one day. I placed my hands on the armchair rests and stood up. I heard him move. He moved swiftly, quietly. Like a man who had been trained in the art of fighting. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“You’re … you’re not going to read today?”

I smiled. “You seem to be rather distracted and angry about something today. If you still want me to read to you, pick me up from the library on Friday.”

Instinctively, I sensed his confusion. “Have I upset you? I don’t get too many visitors so I’m a bit rough around the edges, but I mean you no harm,” he explained.

“You’ve not upset me, Mr. Carson. I’m looking forward to Friday.”

I took a step in the direction of the door, and he scrambled to get there before I did so he could open it for me. What a surprise – there was a gentleman underneath all that bluster and bluff. I paused at the threshold.

“You will let me look at you some day, won’t you?”

“What?”

“With my hands.” The idea intoxicated me. The pull from his body was so powerful the tiny hairs on my hands stood to attention.

“I have scars,” he muttered.

“I know,” I whispered. “Scars are not ugly to me. They are just shapes.”

“Uh.”

“So will you? Let me see you.”

“Yes,” his voice was husky.

“Until Friday,” I said solemnly.

“Until tomorrow,” he responded.

Then I turned away and made my way down the porch steps. Carefully, navigating my way down the driveway, I reached the car without incident, opened the passenger door and slipped inside. Before I could close the door Elaine pounced on me. “What happened in there? What took you so long?”

“Close that fly-attracting mouth of yours, Elaine. I’ve only been twenty minutes,” I said, pulling at the seatbelt.

She snapped her mouth shut. “Well, it feels more like an hour. I was just about to break his door down to rescue you.”

I laughed at the idea of I’ll-wait-outside-for-you-Elaine breaking down Kit’s door to rescue me. I loved her to death, but Elaine must be one of the biggest cowards on God’s earth.

“Well?” she prompted.

“He was actually rather fascinating,” I said with a smile.

“Start right from the very beginning and don’t leave a single thing out,” she ordered as she reversed the car. And she made me spit out every detail too, as she drove us back to a life that wasn’t nearly as complicated or wonderful as the one being lived at Kit Carson’s abode.