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Light My Fire: A Contemporary Winter Romance by Lucy Snow (7)

CHAPTER 06 - EAMES


The hut was small and packed with people. Eyes from all over, almost all young children, stared back at me, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. I looked at the translator, who stared back at me.


Right, this was my show. “My name is Eames,” I said, trying to catch all of their faces while I spoke. I didn’t need to put in that much effort — nothing else was going on except me.


The translator spoke some words in a language I didn’t understand and then looked back at me. I had no idea what to say next. 


An old lady stepped forward, her thin and bony hands holding a small plate between them, full of three piles of what looked like food — one green, one yellow, the other a brownish orange. Her eyes were full and strong despite her age. “Come,” the translator beckoned to me. “Take the plate. Eat.”


I reached out and took the plate, bowing my head in thanks. “Thank you very much,” I said, smiling. The old lady smiled at me, and gestured toward the ground to our left. “Sit,” the translator said as the old lady spoke a soft voice. “This is the best seat in the house.”


It wasn’t a seat — they didn’t have any furniture here aside from the stuff propping up the pots and pans they used to cook off at the far end of the hut. I knew from seeing other huts that the adults slept outside in the extreme heat and let the children take shelter inside.


I sat down and started to pick at the food, shocked at the amount of thick and dense flavor that jumped around my tastebuds despite how weird the food itself looked.


The entire family watched me eat. I was so hungry after the long trip to the village I’d gotten through two of the piles of food before I even noticed. They all watched me, the old lady especially.


I looked at the translator. “Why are they watching me eat?”


He didn’t translate that, but stared back at me, pointing at the plate. “That’s more than they have to share between them for an entire day.”


My draw dropped, and I stopped eating in mid bite. “No,” the translator cautioned, “you must finish. It is the way of things here. Guests get the best they can offer.”


“But this is too much!”


“Just eat it.”


I nodded after a moment and finished the meal, standing up and bowing before the old lady and giving her the plate back. “Thank you, it was wonderful.” The translator conveyed my message, and the old lady nodded.


We left the hut after that. “We can stay here the night, and keep moving after that,” the translator said, unpacking his bags.


I looked at him, my mind made up. “We’re not going anywhere.” I opened my own bag. “And you’re going to teach me their language.”


I couldn’t tell if the snow was getting worse or letting up. The only things I could really feel were my feet fighting for purchase on the slick snowdrifts with each step, the wind buffeting my face, and the slight bit of warmth coming off the girl’s hand in mind.


That last feeling was the push I needed to take each individual step, just to get us closer to where we had to be.


“What the hell were you doing out here anyway?” I don’t know why I put it that way, but something in me snapped at that moment.


“Huh?” Came her soft reply. It was the first time either of us had spoken in almost an hour. Time flew when you were miserable.


I waved around at the snow. “Not exactly the greatest time to be traveling anywhere, Princess. Look around you.”


“I was going home. From college.”


“Ahh, gotta get back and see your friends and family, eh? Couldn’t stand to be by yourself over winter break, is it?”


She stiffened; clearly I had hit a nerve. She was the type — college girl. Couldn’t be alone for a moment. Being out here without a working cell phone must have been a nightmare. “None of your business.”


We kept walking.


“And what’s your excuse?” she suddenly piped up. “Why were you out on the road?” She waved around just like I had. “Not exactly the greatest time to be traveling anywhere, uh..asshole?”


The way she said it made me chuckle, like she wasn’t used to using such coarse language.


“It’s a public service I run, you know. I keep college girls from getting themselves killed during storms.”


She gave me a withering stare. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t really have to say anything. It’s tiring enough walking with you.”


I did want to talk about it. I was mad. I knew I shouldn’t be, I knew she wasn’t trying to get herself stranded in the middle of nowhere, but for some reason it bothered me that she would get herself into this kind of trouble. More than that it bothered me that I cared what happened to some girl I’d never met before. That wasn’t like me.


Something in her face suggested she was still thinking about something. Something we’d left behind. I stopped walking and turned around to face her. She looked up at me and flinched when she saw how clearly mad I was.


“You…you’re still thinking about going back, aren’t you?”


She closed her eyes and I saw tears forming around the edges. “I think I could make it!” she whispered. “My bag wasn’t too far from where you pulled me out of the bus!”


I fumed, stepping forward and getting all up in her face. “You do understand that when I pulled you out of the bus it was a hundred feet from the edge of the cliff,” I separated my hands to show that distance. “And immediately after that the bus slid down to, let’s be generous and say 10 feet from the edge, right?” I narrowed my hands, still holding hers in one of them. “We’ve gone all this way, we’re not going back, Princess. It’s as simple as that.”


Her jaw locked, and she looked like the most stubborn person in the world. “I could have made it,” she whispered.


I threw up my hands. “I don’t understand, Princess, I really don’t. Are pictures of you and your boyfriend at the beach that one time so important that you’re willing to fall off a cliff to get them?”


She looked at me sadly, and shook her head. I started to crack, but I held it together.


I pointed to her thin coat. “Look at you, you’re not even dressed well enough to keep going, and you mean to tell me you want to go back for an hour, risk our lives, then come all the way back? We still haven’t gotten to the inn yet. Nope! Not gonna do it.”


She looked down at her coat and pulled it tighter, lifting up the zipper that had fallen a bit. “I didn’t think I’d actually have to leave the bus till we arrived in Meridian.”


“And I didn’t think I’d have to rescue you either, but here we are.”


“You seem really proud of yourself for that.”


The way she said that shocked some sense into me. What was I doing? This wasn’t who I was.


“Proud enough that I’m not going to let you go running back to get yourself killed over a bag.” Then I added, “Fine, we don’t have to talk.”


“Suits me just fine.”


I noticed the entire time we argued we were still holding hands. It wasn’t a conscious thing, it wasn’t something I had to work at. It just felt…natural, and right.


I didn’t know what that meant, but I did know that touching someone else like this hadn’t felt this right in a long time. I shook my head, wiping away these thoughts as best as I could.


Right now all that mattered was getting out of this storm and into a hot bath. I almost started salivating at the very thought of some hot soup.


We kept hiking alongside the snowed-over road for another mile or so, all the while squinting ahead in the low light of the darkening winter afternoon, trying to see the fabled bed & breakfast up ahead, welcoming us with bright lights and a smoke-issuing chimney signaling the presence of a toasty fire and hot chocolate.


What we got was a little less inspiring, but no less welcome. After we rounded a corner, the small building of the b&b came into view, but there was no smoke in the chimney, and the lights barely seemed on. 


The girl and I shared a glance that was a mixture of trepidation and hope before we both nodded and ran, well, skipped was more like it, toward the building, both of us hooting and hollering.


I knocked on the door when we arrived in front of it, but didn’t hear more than a creak of wood settling, and didn’t see any lights coming our way. We shared another look, and she raised her hand to knock again.


I shook my head and put my hand on the doorknob instead, turning it slowly at first, amazed that it opened without resistance beyond shaking a few ice crystals loose.


She squeezed my hand as I pushed the door open and we shuffled inside, closing the big door behind us. It wasn’t exactly a sauna inside the dusty old inn, but at least we were out of the wind and the snow.


I peered around in the dark, seeing a couple nightlights down near the floor still active, but nothing else. I couldn’t make out much of anything, except looming furniture.


I turned back toward the girl and before I knew it she’d jumped into my arms and I could feel the cold skin of her cheeks against mine.


When the hug was done we separated, each of us looking sheepishly down at the ground.


“We should get out of these coats,” I said, unzipping mine and peeling the layer off, letting it hang on the rack next to the door. I could already feel myself heating up — it felt like forever since I’d been anything but frozen all the way to the bone.


She followed after a moment of watching me, and I saw the look of pure pleasure on her face, her eyes closed, as she took off her own jacket and handed it to me to put away. 


I got a look at the curves of her body for the first time right then, and I drank her shape in deep, probably a little longer than I should have, because when I was done I could see her face cocked to one side, giving me a little smirk that spoke volumes about how busted I was.


I didn’t even apologize, just shrugged my shoulders. At the same time, though…yeah she had curves for days in all the right places, and I was not too cold nor too tired to notice and appreciate it.


Just then, a light above us flicked on, and we both winced, unused to the brightness suddenly in front of us. “Marty!” I heard a woman’s voice yell. “Marty! Get up here!”


“I’m coming!” another voice, this one a man’s, echoed through out the house. “Hold your horses, Clara, I’m coming!”


I heard shuffling, in front of us, and as I rubbed my eyes and opened them, a small, older woman wrapped up in a green shawl came toward us. “Marty!” She cracked a big smile. “We’ve got guests!”


She stepped in really close, and threw her arms around the girl and I. “Welcome! Make yourselves right at home,” she said, as the pulled us deeper into the inn with a strength that I would not have believed could come from a woman that small.


“Come on!” she said. “Let’s get you to the fire.” She stopped, and we stopped with her. “There’s no fire,” she observed. “Marty!”


“I’m coming, Clara!” The voice was no closer than it had been the first time.


“Marty, get some wood, we need a fire!”


“I’m getting it!” I heard cursing from far off, and then the sound of wood moving.


The old lady, Clara, turned toward us, the same big smile on her face. “Come, come, sit down. Take a load off.” She pointed to two huge couches sitting facing each other before the large, old, and very dark fireplace.


The girl and I shrugged and sat down. “There, there, that’s better.” Clara straightened up. “I’ll start some tea going, you two must be chilled to the bone!”


She marched off toward what must have been the kitchen, and the girl and I looked at each other, each of us looking like we couldn’t believe what was going on.


Then Marty showed up, a wizened old man carrying enough wood in his hands to equal his own weight, yet with a strength that suggested he’d happily carry double that. I jumped up as soon as I saw him, letting go of the girl’s hand for the first time in a couple hours.


I did it without knowing it, and we both flinched immediately.


“Stay where you are, young man!” Marty bellowed as he came toward the fireplace and unceremoniously dumped his cargo into the rack next to it. His face didn’t brook any argument and I sat back down. Marty wasted no time and knelt in front of the fireplace, reaching down and gathering the tools he needed.


30 seconds later he had the beginning of a fire going, and 2 minutes after that he added the first log from his pile, and we started to heat up.


Marty took the couch opposite us and smiled, rubbing his hands together. “Clara! Where’s the tea?!”


“Coming, Marty!” came the immediate reply from the kitchen, and 10 seconds later Clara came back into the room with a tray full of cups and a steaming pot of tea.


She poured huge cups out for the girl and I before serving Marty and finally herself. “There!” she said, sitting down next to Marty. “Isn’t this fun?”


I took a long sip of the tea, not caring how warm it was. The hot liquid burned on its way down my throat, but I loved every flavorful moment of it. I quickly finished off my first cup. “Have another!” Clara exclaimed, and I poured myself another, topping up the girl’s cup too.


The two older people watched us drink. “Oh, that’s so much better,” Clara said, clasping her hands together. “You two are starting to get a little color back in your cheeks, that’s nice to see.”


I set my cup down. “Thank you so much for the tea and the fire, uh, Clara, is it? And Marty,” I said. The girl chimed in her thanks as well.


Marty waved us away. “Nonsense. We’re just glad you were able to find us. What happened?”


“We were on the road to Meridian,” I said, looking at the girl. “And we, uh, got into an accident.”


Marty whistled. “Bad time of the day for that, I suppose.” He looked down, then brightened. “No sense in leaving here now, not with the weather like this.” He clapped his hand down on the cushion. “You’ll stay here with us till the storm passes.”


Clara reached over and wrapped Marty on the leg. “Of course they’ll stay with us, you big dummy! That was never a question.” She smiled back at us. “This is wonderful! You need a place to stay, and we just so happen to have a vacancy!”


The girl and I looked at each other nervously. “We don’t really want to impose,” she started.


“Nonsense! I won’t hear anymore on it. You’ll stay with us!” Clara jumped up from the couch and puttered around. “I’ll go make up a room for you right now-“


“Two rooms!” I blurted out without thinking.


Clara stopped and both she and Marty gave us funny looks. “Right,” she said, definitely a little surprised. “Two rooms, then.” She waved her hands up. “You probably want to get out of those clothes and get to a bath, warm yourselves up.”


She looked at Marty still drinking tea on the couch. “Marty, get up and help me! I’ll get the linens, you make sure the bath tub is ready! Step to it!” Clara turned back to the girl. “You must be soaked in those clothes.” She sized both of us up. “Marty’s got some old stuff you can wear, and our daughter might have left somethings here for you. I’ll go check and leave them on the beds for you.”


Marty downed the rest of his tea in one gulp and then shrugged. “I’m going, I’m going,” he grumbled with a smile on his face as he stood up. “Forty years together,” he whispered to the two of us with a wink. “I think she likes me.”


And then he was gone, along with Clara, as they disappeared into parts of the inn we couldn’t see.


 The girl and I were alone in the inn’s living room. I looked down at the space between us before realizing that we’d clasped hands again without knowing it.


Weird.


But comfortable.


She looked at me then reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone, staring at the screen for a few seconds before shaking her head. “No service,” she said, putting it away. “You?”


I pulled out my own phone, not letting on that I barely used it, and checked the screen. “Nope, but I’m not surprised in this weather.” I looked around the room. “Looks like we’re stuck riding out the storm here.”


“Yeah,” she echoed, relief tinged with fear mixed in.


“Marty and Clara seem pretty nice.”


“Yeah,” she said, a little stronger this time.


“You two!” Clara’s voice came from upstairs. “Come on up, I’ve got your rooms ready, and Marty’s almost done setting up the bath!”


“We better get up there,” I said.


“Yeah. I’m exhausted, and a bath sounds like the greatest thing on earth right now.”


“You said it.”


She stood up, and we both looked at each other as our fingers separated. “I’m, uh, Naomi,” she said, a little uncomfortably, like she wasn’t used to saying her own name out loud.


“Alex,” I replied, reflexively, before I even had a chance to think about it.


She nodded and headed upstairs. “I think I’m going to take a quick nap, or I’ll fall asleep in the tub.”


I waved. “Go for it. I’ll be up soon.”


I don’t know why I used my middle name just now. Something told me that I didn’t want to play all my cards up front right now. I hadn’t been around Meridian in a long time, but when I left, my family name was known all over town, and everyone knew we had a little money.


Once in a while I’d used my middle name to make sure that no one caught on it was me — when your name was something strange like ‘Eames,’ people remembered you, and that came with some baggage.


Of course there was nothing to it — what was this girl or these old people going to do with my real name?


Old habits. They died hard.


I headed up the stairs. That bath sounded perfect right about now.

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