Chapter 10
Dale
It looked like there’d been an accident on the pathway. I walked around the fallen ice, making sure not to slip, and hefted my bags high in my arms.
I’d bought extra snacks to leave behind for Aspen, and some to take with me when I left.
I’d also bought him a cute gift, and had it wrapped while I was in the store. I’d leave it under the tree for him. I hoped he’d find it.
An ache grew in my chest.
But there was one consolation. We were meeting up again tonight out front at dusk. That would be nice. And maybe after the tree lighting, Aspen would want to go for a drink.
When I opened the door to the cabin, Aspen was sitting on the couch surfing through the TV’s digital guide.
“Hey. I’m back.”
“Hi.” He turned his head slightly, but did not meet my gaze.
I set my packages on the little table by the door. I noted the bed was made. Housekeeping must have been by while we were at breakfast. The letter we’d received this morning sat on the nightstand. I wanted to walk over to it and rip it to shreds.
Instead, I needed to begin to pack my stuff. Slowly, I started to gather everything. It was like walking through sludge to get it all done. I hated to leave.
When I finished, I rolled my suitcase by the door. I had forgotten I’d left my bags on the little table. I took the food items from them and walked to the coffee table, setting them down.
“What’s that?” Aspen barely looked up.
“I’m leaving you some snacks.”
He threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
He still wouldn’t look at me. Or the snacks.
Obviously, he wasn’t happy. But he hadn’t asked me to stay, and it would be impolite of me to ask if I could.
I thought about it for a few seconds. Aspen was polite.
But so was I. Damn my manners. I couldn’t open my mouth and demand not to move.
If he wanted me here, he could say something.
He continued to stare at the ceiling instead of the TV. I moved away and took the last item from my bag. A cute, silver and green striped Christmas gift. I placed it under the tree. Then I quietly opened the door and headed out.
Just as I stepped on the porch, I got a text saying it would be another hour before my cabin was ready, so I headed to the lodge lobby.
I decided the distance from the main parking lot to the lodge was further than the path. I left my car where it was, intending to move it closer to my new abode when I found out where that was. For now, I would walk to the lodge and wait there.
A cold wind had started up. The pathway was still blocked with that fallen snow drift I’d encountered after my gift shop spree. In the freezing breezes, the scattered snow drifts had frozen hard to the ground. I moved aside to get past, tugging my suitcase close behind me.
The ice was clear, nearly invisible. Even my snow boots I couldn’t get a great purchase on it. I started to slip, caught myself, but in my panic I came down hard on my other foot. Which slid right out from under me.
I let out a yelp and ugly-grunted as I landed hard on my ass. My suitcase flew out of my grip and landed in another snowdrift a few feet away. I was so shocked, I lay all the way back, my head on the ground, as I struggled to catch my breath.
Beyond my sight, a door slammed hard. I heard a loud shout.
“Dale!”
Footsteps came running up the walkway.
“Don’t slip,” I called out.
Aspen’s legs came into view as he slipped a little, then shuffled to keep his balance. One second later, he was on his knees at my side wearing nothing but his sweater, sweatpants and boots. As he leaned over me, the mountain wind whipped through his bright gold-brown hair.
Had he watched me walked away through the side window?
He put his bare hand under my head. “Dale? Are you all right?”
“Um, I think so.” I was still assessing, remaining as still as I could until feeling returned to my body.
“Is anything broken?”
“Help me sit up.”
He put both his hands under my shoulders and supported me as I slowly got into a sitting position.
“I’ll never forgive myself if you’re broken,” he said.
“What? It isn’t your fault.” I bent my knees, flexing my muscles. Nothing hurt but my tailbone.
“It is too all my fault.” His voice lowered. The word “fault” almost sounded like a sob.
I started to brush snow from my sides. “Now that makes no sense. Can you help me try to stand?”
“Yeah. Go slow.” He kicked some of the ice chunks away from me to the side of the path.
I pushed down with my hands to get my weight on my bent legs.
“Take it easy.” Aspen put his arms underneath mine and wrapped them around my chest, supporting a lot of my upper body weight.
“Don’t slip,” I warned.
Right then, a sharp pain went through my tailbone. My back muscles tensed. “Ow, ow, ow.”
“What?”
“My lower back. Ow.”
“Do you want to sit down again?”
“No.” I straightened, moving my hips to assess the pain. “I think I bruised my tailbone.”
Once I was standing on my own, Aspen kept his arms around me.
“I’m okay. It’s all right. You can let go of me.”
His mitten-less hands slid down my sides. I turned and put one hand on his steady shoulder.
“Lean on me for a second and catch your breath,” he said.
I was grateful. But the wind was kicking up even more. He had to be freezing.
“Can you even walk?” he asked.
I moved my booted feet, wary of slipping again, as I continued to clutch at him. “Ow.”
“What?”
“Just a twinge in my back.”
“You need to get out of the cold right now. And take a muscle relaxant.”
“Yeah. I don’t have anything like that.”
“Come on back to the cabin.”
I frowned. “It’s not my cabin anymore.”
“Yes it is. Until two o’clock.”
My thoughts rambled. He’s asking you back. He wants you back. He thinks it’s all his fault.
Aspen started to move forward, his arm underneath mine and across my back.
“Wait. My suitcase.”
Aspen turned to look at the suitcase in the snowbank. “Can you stand by yourself for a second?”
“Yeah.”
He left me for only a second to grab it, then came back to me.
“Careful there, it’s still slippery.”
“Yeah,” Aspen said, his breath white on the air. “We need to report that to the front desk.”
Slowly, we started back toward the cabin, Aspen supporting me with one arm and towing my suitcase with the other. As I walked, my strength began to return. The tailbone still smarted, but I could detect no serious damage.
“You’re doing great,” Aspen said, breathing a little hard. We came to the porch steps. “Can you get up the steps? I think there’s a ramp out back by the back door. But that door is locked.”
I saw he’d left the front door ajar. “I can do this.”
There was nothing wrong with my legs. It was more the shock of hitting my tailbone and my back muscles seizing. The pain was already receding.
We got up the steps and Aspen hustled me inside, wheeling my suitcase to the side and shutting the door.
Despite the door being left open, it was warm inside. I let out a heavy sigh.
“Let’s get you over to the bed.” Aspen set me down gently, then helped me off with my jacket which he tossed toward the foot of the bed. Next came the boots.
He fluffed up the pillows and helped me lie back. The attention surprised me. He’d been shut down when I left. I realized now that maybe he had been upset. Did I dare believe he hadn’t wanted me to leave?
The bed had been made, the covers drawn tight. But Aspen drew the folded, fleece blanket at the foot of the bed up and over me.
“I’m okay.” I started to push the blanket away.
Aspen’s hand brushed my pantleg. “Your pants are soaked,” he said.
That was quite true. The cold was already seeping into my thighs and ass cheeks. I shuddered.
“Off,” he commanded.
“My pants?”
“All of it. Underwear, too. I won’t look. You can cover yourself with the blanket.”
I almost laughed, but when I looked at his face I saw he was dead serious.
“I can walk. I’ll go into the bathroom and change.”
“You need to warm up. I’ll grab your suitcase and bring it over. But right now, get those wet things off.”
His voice compelled me to obey. I reached under the blanket and slid my sweats and boxers off all in one motion.
Aspen politely turned away. I brought out the soggy garments and he took them, immediately going to the front of the room and placing them by the fireside to dry.
When he returned, he wheeled my suitcase to my side.
“I really can walk,” I said. “I should get re-dressed and go.”
“You fell hard. I saw it all.”
“You saw?”
He nodded, eyes downcast. “Out the window. It’s my fault.”
“Quit saying that. Anyone can slip on a freezing cold day.”
“I’m the one who kicked the snowbank and made that mess on the sidewalk. I’m so sorry, Dale.”
“Why did you kick a snowbank?”
He shrugged. “I’m going to report the ice on the walkway to the front desk.” Turning his back to me, he picked up the phone and started talking softly. When he hung up, he said, “Done. I’m so sorry, Dale.”
I still didn’t have an answer as to why he’d kicked the ice onto the pathway. It had been after breakfast while I’d been shopping. Had he been angry? Because I was leaving?
We needed to talk.
Before I could bring up the subject, Aspen was fluffing my pillows, tucking in the blanket around my half-naked form, then scampering off to make hot coffee.
I really was hurting. It felt good to be on the warm bed and draped in comfort.
A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. Aspen rushed to answer.
As hot coffee aroma began to fill the room, I listened as Aspen spoke to someone outside.
“Thanks. Yes, he fell pretty badly but we don’t need anything else.” A pause. “He’ll be staying here. He just needs rest. He can walk. Nothing’s broken.” Another pause. “That would be very nice. Thank you, again.”
The door closed.
“Who was that?”
“Henry from the front desk.” He came up to the side of the bed.
“Why?”
“I told him you slipped and were injured. He came by to check on us. And bring you these.” Aspen held up two pill bottles.
One for regular pain relief. And ibuprofen for muscle relief.
He set them down on the bedstand, then rushed to the fridge and got out a bottle of water.
When he returned, he said, “You can’t take both at once. Which one?”
“I’m really okay.”
“Ibuprofen is good to keep the muscles from freezing up. If that doesn’t work, we’ll try the other.” Aspen was already opening the seal on the bottle and dumping two pills into his hand. He offered them to me.
“Thanks.” I really was grateful.
“Are you warm enough?”
I nodded.
Aspen fiddled with the coffee maker, made the coffee just how I liked it, and handed me the warm Santa mug I’d been using since we’d arrived. I took a sip. It was delicious.
He sat at the foot of the bed with his own mug. “Any better yet?”
“Waiting for the pills to hit.”
“I’m really sorry this happened.”
“Stop apologizing. But did I hear you tell Henry that I was staying here?”
He pressed his lips tight as if he was keeping some big secret. The tension thickened. To ease it, I spoke.
“It’s okay. I’d love to stay. I don’t mind having you as company. You’re very non-intrusive and I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you that all morning. But I couldn’t find the words.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Confession time, I guess. But I’ve really enjoyed us being roommates. I was going to miss you a lot.”
“Okay, then. I guess we should be more honest with each other.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Does that mean you want me to stay?”
Aspen nodded. “I do. But now I have my own confession to make.”
I stared at him over my mug. What he told me next, I had not expected at all.