Trapped with the Blizzard (30 page)

“Are you warm enough? I could find another blanket and…”

“Just stop, please! We’re practically sitting inside a fire and I can feel you sweating next to me.” He pulled me close and rested his chin on top of my head. “I’m okay, you really don’t have to worry.”

I was a little concerned that if he could feel my sweat I probably smelled, but given the circumstances, it was the least of my worries. I would’ve sweat buckets if it meant keeping him warm. Dusty had given me strict instructions to keep him up and talking. Falling asleep with a concussion, even a mild one, was dangerous. No way was I going to let that happen on my watch.

“All right, but you have to promise to tell me the second you do need something,” I conceded.

“Tell me a story,” he said lazily.

“I only know sad stories.” It’d been a flippant comment but rang true enough.

“That’s fine. Just make sure it has a dragon in there somewhere.”

I scoffed at his odd request at first, but since we didn’t really have anything else going on, I figured why not. Curled up in the corner of the Great Hall beside one of the three roaring fires, it seemed like a perfect time and place to tell a story.

“You want a Christmas one?”

“Ick, no. I’m done with Christmas. Make one up, one with a dragon.”

“I don’t know where to start,” I said quietly, feeling bashful.

“Just close your eyes, forget we’re stuck in this frozen purgatory, and tell me the first thing that comes to mind. With a dragon, don’t forget.”

So I did just that. I nestled against his chest, loving the sound of his steady, strong heartbeat. I opened my imagination to figments of images, feelings, old stories I used to know… they all blended together and I began to speak.

“In a kingdom far, far away there was a brave king. He had little land, but those who lived in his kingdom loved him fiercely. The king was a fair but stern ruler who valued respect above all else.”

Miah’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. “Good start so far, Marsh.”

I ignored him and pressed on, the image still forming in my mind. “A danger threatened the borders of his kingdom. He exhausted every option and was forced to declare war. Every single servant and citizen supported his decision… all except his only heir, the princess. From her tower, she could see the danger more clearly than anyone else could and didn’t want him to go anywhere near it.

“The night before he left for battle, he came to her room high in the tower to beg for her support one last time. She pleaded, manipulated, even bargained for him to stay but nothing swayed him. So she tried one last thing… shunning. When he came to speak to her, she pretended she was looking forward to his leaving.”

“‘The moment you leave, I’ll be in charge of this kingdom and I’ll do what I want. I’m glad you’re going,’ she said to him. He begged her to at least say goodbye, to show him an ounce of kindness before riding into Death’s path. But the bitch princess wouldn’t even look at him.”

“Bitch princess? You’re editorializing,” Miah chuckled. With my ear pressed to his chest, I heard it rattle before he was wracked with a coughing fit. I waited for him to stop before settling back in.

“She is a bitch. Now shush.” I cleared my throat, closed my eyes, and tried to pick up where I’d left off.

“The king rode to battle the next morning, not knowing what to expect. He was scared, yes, but the stories of his ancestors’ successes turned fear to fate. When he rode into that dusty wasteland, he didn’t understand the foe he faced. So when it came upon him, he had no way of recognizing it.”

“Is this the dragon?”

“Yes!
Shhh.
This wasn’t your typical fire-breathing dragon. He was black and amorphous, a rolling black smoke that you can only see from the corner of your eye. This dragon was concentrated evil.

“The king rode in unaware of the trap. There was no great battle, no drawn out campaign. No swords were unsheathed. No parries, feints, and blocks. The attack was swift, fierce, without leniency… but the king wasn’t given the mercy of death.

“His men carried him back to the castle where they lay him to rest. No doctor or priest in the land could do anything to help. The black smoke dragon had invaded his body, ripped apart everything that made him king. All that was left was a husk… a warm, breathing corpse.”

“Jesus…” Miah muttered.

I ignored him, the end of the story becoming clear as I continued. I didn’t so much create the story as describe the scenes playing out in my mind. The words were merely my translations.

“When the princess finally went to see him, she couldn’t stand to look. The guilt was too much. She had driven him to battle, appeared to take pleasure in his departure. The last words they’d exchanged had been filled with hate and anger.

“She fled from that room, but the dark dragon had already hooked his talon into her. Every mirror she looked into, every polished spoon and candlestick reflected the darkness growing within. Her battle was agonizingly slow. The darkness coiled around her, bit by bit, infecting anyone she came in contact with. And that was her punishment.”

I slowly opened my eyes, almost waking from a dream state. I turned to stare into the fire hoping to burn the imagery away with the flickering flames. It wasn’t that I didn’t
want
to tell him about my dad, but I was pretty shocked by how it came out. Miah took a deep breath and held it.

“Your dad didn’t die.” It was a statement, not a question.

Tears sprung from my eyes, silently falling with surprising speed. I sat up and wiped them away, unable to look at him directly. “I didn’t mean to lie to you,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to explain.” He pulled me into his chest again, his hand sliding up my hot cheek as if shielding me. The ache in my heart was only rivaled when we first heard Dad was hurt. I hunched my shoulders, fought to keep control, and suppressed the cry that demanded release.

I don’t know how long he held me, but eventually the silent sobs slowed and ended. When I leaned back and looked into his eyes… I had never felt that vulnerable. In the flickering firelight, he brushed the tears from my cheeks and kissed me tenderly.

“I’m sorry we fought. When I found out you were… I just wanted to…” I started to say as we pulled away but he stopped me. Grabbing each side of my face fiercely, he looked deep into my eyes.

“Not another word. Everything worked out. It was a stupid fight that should’ve never happened in the first place. Do you understand me? You have nothing to apologize for.”

I nodded slowly, his hands still holding each cheek as my head moved up and down.

“I mean it,” he insisted.

“Okay,” I whispered. Miah dropped his hands to his lap, his chin dropping to his chest. I panicked, thinking his headache might be killing him or he had a wave of dizziness. “Are you okay? Do you need me to…”

“I wasn’t completely honest with you, either,” he blurted. “And Marie didn’t help much.”

I tempered the panic rising in my chest and gave him a chance to explain.
This is where he tells me they really are together.
“Okay…”

He leaned his head back against the wall and looked to the ceiling. I followed the line of his jaw, thinking this might be the last time I could be so close to him. “My mom kicked me out. I’ve been living with Marie and her parents for a while now ‘cause I can’t afford to live on my own. That’s why she’s so damn protective of me.”

It was my turn to take a minute to process. I glanced across the room to where Marie sat with her parents.

“She told me how she screwed with you,” Miah continued. “The reason I went outside was to cool off from fighting with her, not you.”

He was telling me so I wouldn’t feel responsible, which partly worked. What it really did was make me take a big step back and see the situation from a different perspective. Marie and Miah wouldn’t have fought if I hadn’t egged her on. I wouldn’t have egged her on if she hadn’t confronted me in the bathroom. The bathroom wouldn’t have happened… and so on. It was all linked, big and small, actions great and tiny. Subconsciously, another piece fit into place, a step towards healing.

I was glad he knew the truth.

“Why did your mom kick you out?”

He chuckled. “That’s a story for another day.”

Clutching Jack to my chest, I found a soft, empty seat in the corner of the room, and sank down. I was so weary, so emotionally and physically exhausted. My little angel snoozed in my arms while I wept, tears running freely down my cheeks as I gave up wearing my confident-I-have-it-together face.

It wasn’t often I gave in to despair, but this was a true moment of weakness. Horrible situations followed me wherever I went so regularly, it was hard not to believe I was cursed. How much shit can one person go through? One of the few blessings I counted, with the whole town at risk and a psycho on the loose, was that at least I wasn’t responsible for this one. I was always surprised the town had forgiven me for thrusting it in the spotlight. Even though I’d married the local hero and helped the mountain recover, the shit I put them through…

I stared out of the window into the darkness, willing the sun to come up. It felt like a never-ending night, like the sun, as well as hope, had completely abandoned us. The sofa dipped as someone sat beside me. I quickly wiped my face and turned to see Walt’s weathered old hand extended with a tissue.

“Thanks,” I sniffed as I took it.

“Thought you might need someone to talk to,” he said in his gruff voice.

I snorted and wiped my face dry. “I appreciate it, but I know you don’t really want to sit here and listen to me complain. That’s not your style.”

Walt shrugged and leaned back in the sofa. He crossed his ankle over his knee and idly rubbed the joint. “Thing is, if I’m sitting here talkin’ to a crying woman, no one else is gonna bug me to do anything else.”

“Solid tactic,” I laughed. “But that still leaves you talking to a crying woman.”

Walt didn’t respond. He was the infuriating sort who enjoyed sitting in silence. Unfortunately, I hated it, especially when something weighed heavy on my mind. It was some type of torture, like the voice inside my head got louder and louder until I was forced to speak just to kill the deafening silence.

“I’m a terrible mother,” I blurted out.

Walt clicked his tongue against his teeth and gave a quick,
hrumph.

I sniffed in surprise, the corner of my mouth curling slightly. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say to that?”

“I don’t waste my time responding to nonsense.”

I rolled my eyes and began the real pity party. “You saw that fight. Hell, everyone saw that fight. I haven’t been able to connect with that girl once since she got here. And she’s completely right to hate me.”

“That girl is lashing out at the world. She’s hating everything and everyone, starting first and foremost with herself.”

I had to concede that point, having known the feeling all too well. “I figured I’d be able to related to her, show her it honestly does get better. Hell, if I can have a normal life after coming from all the stuff in my past, she has the whole world in the palm of her hand.”

Walt turned towards me, resting a weathered hand on Jack’s head. “And think back to when you were that age. Would you have listened? Was there anyone who could’ve gotten through?”

“Well, yeah, my dad. I never rebelled
against
him,” I thought, seeing it from a different angle this time. “It was more that I rebelled around him.”

Walt nodded as if he’d suspected as much. “And can you think of why that was?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek and stared out into the darkness. The winds were calmer, but there were many hours before dawn and the end of the storm. An eerie orange glow flickered above us on the mountain. The rentals were on fire, the embers carried on the gusts like deadly fireflies. All it would take is one of those sparks to make its way down here… I shook my head to clear my mind of the morbid thoughts.

“I guess what I always loved about my dad was how he spoke to me like an adult. Even when Mom got sick, he was always so upfront and honest. He figured if we were dealing with some pretty deep, dark stuff, he might as well teach me how to confront it.” I hugged Jack closer. Mom had tried her best to shield me from her illness, especially at the end. I hadn’t thought much about it, but I understood why for the first time in my life. I would do the same for Jack.