White Ribbon by Aleatha Romig
Julia
My mouth felt suddenly dry as color drained from my cheeks. I feigned a laugh. “I believe saved. You see, I would have frozen to death without your help.”
Amusement danced in his gaze along with the reflection of the fire. “Julia, I’m Van. I suppose now that we know one another’s names, taking off our clothes is acceptable.” He tugged on the sleeves of his flannel shirt and pulled it off, tossing it onto the sofa’s cushions. Without the flannel, a light gray thermal shirt remained, nicely stretched across his wide shoulders and chest.
Sitting on the blanket, I said, “I believe I’m down to as few clothes as possible.”
Van shook his head as he picked up his mug of coffee. “I know for a fact that’s not true.”
Technically, he was right. I was still wearing my bra and panties.
I reached for the mug I’d set on the hearth and wrapped my fingers around the warm metal. “How long do you think it will be until we can leave?”
“If that was your car I saw down the road, I think you may need to consider a tow truck after the spring thaw.”
“What?”
“In all honesty, we’ll need some melting to find it. It was mostly buried.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I’m glad I saw it. That’s why I started looking for the driver.”
A deep sigh left my lips. “It’s a rental car. I can’t tell the rental company I lost their car in a snowbank.”
Van scoffed. “You could tell them you ran it off the road, but the good news is you didn’t hit a tree.”
My mind went back to the car. “All of my things are in the trunk. I even left my purse in there.” I tilted my head toward the bed. “All I took with me was my phone.”
He nodded. “That would be why I couldn’t find anything to identify you.” He tilted his chin toward the phone. “That’s not going to do you much good here. Once the snow stops, you may be able to go up the hill and get a signal. I recommend you save whatever battery you have.”
My shoulders slumped as I shook my head. “It figures.”
“And what is that, Julia?”
“I finally decide to do something for myself and look at me.” My lips came together.
The tips of his lips curled upward as his green gaze scanned me. “I’m looking.”
Setting down the coffee mug, I stood again, pulling the quilt tightly around me and took a step toward the small table and kerosene lamp. A million things swirled in my head, not unlike the snow beyond the window. I didn’t know Van. That meant that I could keep quiet or maybe take the opportunity to vent. I decided on somewhere in between. “My whole life has been planned by others, and the one time I decide to take charge of it, I mess that up.” I pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat. As I did, I ran my hand over the table’s surface. “Do you live here?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“No.”
My chin snapped up. “Who does?”
“No one, to my knowledge.”
“Are we trespassing?”
“This cabin is used during hunting season. I thought given the weather that it would be empty. With as cold as you were, I didn’t want to risk trying to get into town and also driving off the road.”
“Are you from around here?”
Van nodded. “But you’re not.”
“No,” I said with a sigh. “I thought I could...” My head shook. “It doesn’t matter.”
Van reached for my coffee and brought it to me, placing it on the table. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished.” I looked around. “Is there...food besides the old cans of soup?”
He scoffed. “I see you’ve searched.”
“There isn’t much to search.”
“The good news is that I have a case of nectarines in my truck. And yes, there is always the soup.” He nodded toward a cupboard under the counter. “I’m not sure how old the cans are. We could search for expiration dates. There’s a pan to warm it if we want.”
That reminded me of the pot of water on the stove. “I turned the water off, it was boiling.”
Van nodded as he went to the pan and poured the water into a large jar. “This is to drink. I’m not sure about the water out of the pump. Boiling it first is best.”
It felt as though I was secluded with one of those mountain men from the movies.
“Why do you have nectarines in your truck?” I asked.
“I like nectarines.”
It was my turn to smile. “So you keep a case in your truck, just in case?”
“I order them by the case, and I’d recently picked up a shipment from the post office in town. At this moment, I’m glad I forgot to take them into my house.”
“Me too.”
Van headed toward the door, and stopped, picking up his flannel shirt from where he’d dropped it on the sofa. “You’re welcome to keep wearing the quilt, but I would guess that this shirt would make a decent-length dress.” He brought it to me. “Your choice, but your clothes are still cold and wet.”
I reached out and took the shirt. “Thank you.”
“There isn’t a lot of privacy here. If you want to put it on, I’ll be outside for a minute getting our dinner.”
Another thought came to me. “What about a bathroom?”
“There’s an outhouse about twenty yards from the door.”
For only a moment, my mouth dropped open. “You’re not serious.”
He grinned. “As a matter of fact, I am. I even shoveled a path out to it when I went for more wood. And the increased accumulation of snow works like insulation. Once you’re inside, the wind won’t freeze you.”
“The wind doesn’t need to—the cold will.”
“Not if you hurry.”
My head shook. “This is just unbelievable.”
Van went to a skinny cupboard near the table with the old pitcher and basin. Opening it, he pulled out a pair of what appeared to be rubber pants, complete with boots and suspenders. “After you put my shirt on, you can wear these out to the outhouse.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are those?”
“Waders,” he replied as if I should have known the answer.
“Waders? Aren’t those for fishing?”
“Very good.”
“You said the cabin is used for hunting.”
“During the summer, it’s used to hunt fish,” Van said with a grin. “Instead of a gun, a fishing pole is used. There’s a large lake nearby.”
“Nectarines.” I reminded.
Leaving the waders on the bed, Van put his coat back on, his orange hat, and his gloves. When he turned my way, he winked. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked more forward to seeing that old shirt.”
His gaze lingered a bit longer than it should’ve before he turned and disappeared beyond the door, leaving a powdering of snow on the floor in his wake.
Despite the gust of cold air, Van’s comment warmed me from my head to my toes.
How was it that this man I barely knew could incite that visceral response with a relatively benign comment about clothing and the man I was engaged to couldn’t or didn’t make me feel that way even when he was kissing and touching me?
I refused to give that any more thought.
Besides, I wasn’t engaged.
Not anymore.
Lifting my left hand, I stared at my bare ring finger.
The last time I saw the huge four-carat diamond, it was on the counter next to Skylar’s phone and a note:
Beth needs you. Goodbye, Julia.
Of course, since I left, Skylar has tried to call and text. I haven’t answered.
Taking one last look at the closed door, I dropped the quilt. As I reached for Van’s flannel shirt, the tempered air sent goose bumps over my skin and caused my nipples to tighten beneath my bra. Without thinking, I brought the soft material to my nose, closed my eyes, and inhaled.
The fresh scent of soap, the aroma of fire, and the spice of cologne all created an enticing concoction that even in this short time had me thinking of Van. Slipping my arms into the sleeves, I realized that Van had been right; this could be a dress. As I began to button the front, the tails in the front and back came to just above my knees.
While I had dresses that were shorter, wearing this man’s shirt—a man whom I barely knew—somehow felt more scandalous. I was in the process of rolling the sleeves up when the door opened. As he’d done before, Van used his booted foot to kick the door closed. This time, instead of logs, his arms were filled with a wooden crate that he set down on the floor. Between the slats of wood, the orange spheres made my mouth water.
After shedding the hat, gloves, and coat, Van retrieved the crate from the floor and brought it to the kitchen counter. Once there, he turned in my direction and smiled. Without a word, his green stare scanned me from my messy hair to my bare toes.
With each passing second, I became more self-conscious, and yet he didn’t speak. Van’s lips formed a straight line, his cheeks rose, and his eyes sparkled with flecks of gold I was just now noticing.
“Thanks for the shirt,” I said, slapping my thighs with the palms of my hands. “It’s better than wearing that quilt.”
“It definitely is.”
His deeper tenor and slower cadence twisted my core and returned my nipples to their hardened state from the earlier cool air.
“You’re making me self-conscious. What are you thinking?”
Van walked around me, all the way around, the entire time keeping his eyes on me. “I think it’s better if I don’t say.”
“What?”
His smile grew. “I’m thinking that if I ever plan an abduction in the middle of a blizzard, I need to remember a flannel shirt because on you, it’s sexy as hell.”
I lifted my hands to my cheeks, feeling the growing heat.
Van took a step toward me. “Come on, Julia, there has to be a man in your life who tells you how damn sexy you are.”
Swallowing, I turned away, avoiding the subject, and began to open the crate of nectarines.
As I tugged on a plastic cord holding the lid in place, Van’s hand came over mine.
The electricity from before returned.
When I looked up, Van held a pocket knife in his other hand. “Step back so you don’t get cut.”
Without speaking, I did as he said. The plastic snapped as the blade sliced through it. The muscles in his arms bulged as he lifted the lid and placed it under the counter. Turning, he held out a nectarine. “Dinner.”
I took the golden and red fruit from him, careful that we didn’t touch again. “Thank you.”
Retrieving our mugs, I added more coffee to each one and took them to the hearth. Even with the roaring fire, the air farther away was chilled. Basking in the warmth, I settled on the blankets and rugs where I’d awakened. After taking off his boots and leaving them by the door, Van joined me on the blanket.
With our legs crossed, we both stared into the flames. Every once in a while, our knees would touch as we both ate our nectarines and drank our coffee. As the fire warmed me outside, the coffee and his incidental touches warmed me inside.
