Chapter Twenty-five
Dallas
I catch her and fall to the ground, bundling her in my arms, still in awe of what we just accomplished. What she accomplished.
Throwing my right glove off, I touch her cheek. It’s cold and wet with tears. Hair sticking out from under her wool cap is stuck to the side of her face. I swipe it away then rub my thumb across her lips.
“Marti?”
Her eyes flutter open as if waking from a dream.
“You’re okay,” I say “We did it. You did it.”
She blinks repeatedly, looking around. “What happened?”
Bex wags his tail and licks her face. He must like the salty taste of her tears. I push him back. “Easy, boy. Give her some room.” Marti makes no attempt to extricate herself from my arms, and I’m not in a hurry for her to leave them. “You fainted. My guess is, you had a ton of adrenaline going through you, but once we reached the ground, you let it go and succumbed to the fear.”
Her lips press together, and she cranes her neck to look at the tower. “What if that had happened up there?”
“It didn’t. You did exactly what you needed to.” I lean down. “Thanks for that,” I say, right before I kiss her.
Her lips are salty and sweet, but before I can really enjoy them, she surprises me by pushing away.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Her eyes flood with tears. “What if you were alone out here?” She hits my chest over and over. “You can’t take risks like that. Dallas, oh my god, if you’d gotten stuck up there.” She hits me a few more times, then fists my coat, draws near and sobs into me.
I wrap my arms tightly around her and let her emotions play out. It’s only now that it sinks in what a colossal risk she took climbing the tower without any safety gear.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly and close to her ear. “I shouldn’t have made you do that. It was an idiotic idea. I should have told you to go back to my place and call for help.”
She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “And leave you hanging upside down? You’d have passed out, or worse. Your face was already red. What if no one could get here? Or what if the cell signal still wasn’t working? What then? I had to do it.” She glances up again. I do too. The tower looks extra tall when you’re sitting at the base of it. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I did that.”
“You’re a badass, Martina Carver.” I narrow my eyes. “What’s your middle name?”
She hesitates, almost uneasily. “Why?”
I shrug. “I just thought the badass statement deserved the addition of a middle name.”
“It’s Alexandra,” she says with an almost imperceptible hitch.
“No shit?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Alexandra is my sister’s name. We call her Allie.”
“You have a sister?” She squints at me.
I guess I haven’t exactly been an open book of information. “And two brothers.”
“Older? Younger?”
“Lucas is the oldest. I was next. Then Allie. Blake is the baby. He’s the one with the deaf wife and daughter.”
“Dallas?”
“What?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Dallas?”
“Hmm?”
For a moment, based on all the other information I’ve divulged, I think she’s going to ask me about Phoebe. I’ve told her a little about DJ. But she doesn’t even know Phoebe’s name. Do I want to tell her? It’s only natural for her to be curious about my wife. And though I could swear it hangs in the air between us, the question never comes.
She holds up a hand. “I can’t feel my fingers. Can we go home?”
Home . She called my cabin home.
I know she didn’t mean it like it came out, but for a fraction of a second, I want it to be true. But only a fraction of a second, because like every other thought I have about Martina Alexandra Carver, it gets overshadowed by memories that creep in and devour any pleasant feelings.
Getting to my feet first, I offer her my hand to help her up. Damn. She’s right, she is cold. Her fingers are pale. “Where are your gloves?”
She unzips a pocket and gets them out. “I couldn’t climb the ladder with them on.”
I look at my own super-durable work gloves with grip and feel horrible all over again. She climbed the tower unassisted, nearly got frostbite in the process, and she fucking saved me. All through what must have been crippling fear.
“Good thinking. Let’s go. I’ll make you a gallon of hot chocolate when we get back.”
She smirks. “After what we just did, I think I’m going to need something a little stronger than hot chocolate.”
I laugh and turn to Bex, patting my thigh. “Come on, boy. Let’s go home.”
~ ~ ~
Luckily, the cabin isn’t freezing when we return. But the fire has burned down to almost nothing. Still, the place is small enough that even embers radiate warmth.
Marti looks like a popsicle. I move a chair in front of the fire, pile more wood in, and wrap her in blankets. Then I put a pot of water on.
I check my phone. Three bars. Good enough. I find where she left hers and hand it to her. “Do you want me to leave when you make calls? I can step outside.”
“I think we’ve both been outside enough for today. It’s fine. I need to check in with Asher and Anita.”
“While you do that, I’ll try Luther again and see if I can get a weather update.”
“Do you think”—her eyes meet the floor—“they’ll be able to get someone up here soon?”
“That’s the hope,” I say, unsure if I really mean it.
By the look on her face, it may not be the answer she wanted. And that both excites and scares me.
She calls her brother first. I try not to eavesdrop, but in this small space, it’s hard not to listen. She has to calm him down and assure him she’s okay. I completely understand. If Allie ever went off the grid like Marti did, I’d go ballistic along with the rest of my family.
It sounds like she also talks to her niece, but not for long. She tells her she has to call Anita and Charlie. Then, I watch her closely as she stares at her phone, hesitating before she dials. Because I’m here listening? Or because she doesn’t know what she’s going to say?
“I’m good. I’m good,” she says. “We lost phone service and power. But everything is fine. I’m still not sure when the roads will be clear enough for me to get out of here, but Asher said the airports are up and running again so he’s going to catch a flight.”
She listens for a while. I wish I could see her face. But I’m imposing too much already by listening to her private conversation.
“Oh, Anita. I’m so sorry you had to do that. I wish I could have been there with you. But I understand why you had to tell Charlie. Do you think…” She glances back at me. I rummage through a cabinet, trying to pretend like I’m not listening. “Do you think he knows he’s gone? Like forever gone?”
Her words hit me square in the chest. She’s talking about her son. And his dead father.
“Okay, put him on the phone.” She blows out a deep sigh. “Hey, buddy… Yes, it’s me… I miss you too.” Her shoulders slump. “Yes, Charlie. I know about Daddy. I’m so so sorry. You know he loved you and didn’t leave you on purpose… Oh, buddy, no, he isn’t coming back… No, he’s not in Florida.” She sniffs and I can tell she’s holding back tears. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Have you played in the snow?... A snowman? I made one too. I called him Abe. What did you name yours?” She laughs. “That’s a perfect snowman name. I can’t wait to see Frosty… Yes, buddy, I’ll make snowballs with you. I promise… Yes, Grumpy is with me. I’ll bring him too. I love you, Charlie, and I’ll see you soon. Hopefully it’ll only be a few more sleeps… Yes, put Anita back on the phone now.” She makes kissing noises, then talks to Anita again.
They discuss plans for a funeral, or not a funeral, something else. That’s when I tap out and go outside, finding it all too close to home for me to deal with. I take the coolers with me and refill them with snow.
Still not ready to go back in, I call Luther, the tow truck driver.
“Mr. Montana, how’re things lookin’ up there?”
“Cold. I ran out of propane two days ago.”
“Damn. Good thing you got plenty of wood.”
“Good thing. So where are we at this point?”
“They’re working on Route 13. It’s bad, man. Two families got trapped in their cars. One old lady expired before they could get to them.”
I think of Abe, still sitting in his cabin. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any idea when the snowplows will get out this way?”
“Depends on the weather. It looks promising. They say there’s less chance for snow over the next few days. But I’m not gonna lie, there’s a lot to be cleared before they get to your road. We’ve only got one plow working all of Tug Hill. One . Everything else has been commandeered to work the more populated areas.”
“Best guess?”
“If everything goes as planned, and there’s no more snow, I’d say four days.”
“Four?” I blurt, surprised.
“They say this is worse than the blizzard of ’78. But I reckon you weren’t even alive back then to remember.”
“No. No I wasn’t. Hey, you have my number. Please keep me updated if things change.”
“You got it. You ain’t runnin’ out of food, are you?”
“No.”
“And the lady? She okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll keep in touch. Don’t know what else I can do from here, but let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, Luther.”
I call the local police and tell them about Abe. They pretty much tell me what I told Marti, that it isn’t a priority, but I’d done right to move him inside and keep him cold.
I spend the next few minutes answering texts from family, assuring them I’m alive and okay. I crack the front door and listen. When I don’t hear Marti’s voice, I step back in, coolers in tow.
She cranes her head around when she hears me enter. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”
I scoop a large helping of dog food into Bex’s food bowl then nod to the water warming on the stove. “Coffee? Hot Chocolate? Or…”
“Wine. Lots and lots of it.”
I open a bottle and pour her a glass, then pour one for myself. Setting another chair next to hers, I sit down and pull her feet up onto my lap, keeping them off the cold floor.
She shakes her head over and over, clearly tormented.
“Your boy must be pretty torn up,” I say.
“No. I mean, yes, of course he’s sad. But I’m not sure he understands the finality of it. That’s not why I’m so upset.” She shoves her phone at me. “Look. I googled it. Did you know that a person can only survive hanging upside down for a few hours? Hours , Dallas. You would have been dead if I hadn’t been there. And you would have died had you sent me back here to call for help.”
I take a drink, then set down my glass, rubbing her feet through her thick socks. “Well, it’s a good thing neither of those things happened.”
Concern pinches her forehead. “You need people, Dallas.”
“People?” I ask, watching Bex circle around the base of the fireplace, finding a spot to sleep after his meal.
“Yes. People. You know, friends or family you can count on if you ever say… find yourself hanging upside down from a cell tower.”
“Do you have people?”
“I do. I have”—she closes her eyes—“ had Charles. I have Asher. I have Bug. Who do you have all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? Don’t try to sit here and tell me you have your siblings or your parents. They aren’t here. Who’s going to help you the next time you climb the tower? You don’t have anyone.”
I squeeze her toes. “I have you.”
She tilts her head, her gaze homing in on me. “Do you?”
I swallow. I shouldn’t have said the words. It’s too much too soon. I try to brush it off. “You want to know the truth? That wasn’t even the most precarious place I’ve ever found myself. Once, Blake and I got trapped upside down on a roller coaster. It took a long time for them to rescue us.” I nod to her phone. “I guess now I know why they sent about a dozen fire trucks. I had no idea you couldn’t hang upside down for that long.”
She eyes me strangely. She knows I’m dodging her question. But she doesn’t push. She sips her wine, watching over the rim of her glass as my hands massage her feet.
“I can’t seem to get warm,” she says, tugging the blanket around her.
“Same.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
My eyes dart to the bed. “What do you suggest we do?”
The intense depth of her gaze lets me know we’re on the same page. I take the glass from her, put it on the ground, then gather her in my arms and carry her over. Laying her on the bed, trying hard to keep the blanket around her, I peel off her clothes. Then I undress and climb in next to her. “Thanks for saving my ass today.”
She smiles playfully as her fingers wrap around my lengthening cock. “It wasn’t just your ass I was saving.”
We make love for hours. My total loss of control around her is as unexpected as it is unbelievable. We work up a sweat until neither of us are the least bit cold. I give her four orgasms. She graces me with three.
Eventually, completely satiated and worn out, neither of us having the energy to cook dinner, we lay side by side, our fingers entwined.
“I have an important question,” I say. “One that’s been burning inside me all afternoon.”
She looks worried. Or excited. Or maybe intrigued is the better word. Sometimes I can’t read her at all. Other times it’s as if we’re connected telepathically.
“What’s the question?”
“Who’s Grumpy?”
She cocks her head.
“Earlier on the phone, when you were talking with Charlie, you said Grumpy was with you. I thought it was possible you were talking about me.”
She giggles. “I could have been. You are pretty prickly at times. But no, Grumpy is his favorite stuffed animal.”
“That makes a lot more sense.”
A part of me wonders if Charlie will ever know about me. Or if anyone will. About the week she spent in the wilderness with someone who went from complete stranger to lover to…
I close my eyes and shut off my brain, unable to finish the thought.
She picks up on my unease, leans over me, and grabs our book from the nightstand. “Want me to read a bit?”
“That would be great.”
I lay my head in her lap hoping she’ll massage it like before. She does. Her small fingers work through my hair, running rhythmically over my scalp, my temples, my neck. Instantly I relax as I listen to the soothing cadence of her voice and enjoy her gentle touch.
I’m fading fast, my eyelids heavy. Before I go to sleep, there’s one thing I feel the need to say. “Marti?”
She stops reading and rests her eyes on me. “Mmm?”
“Phoebe. Her name was Phoebe.”
She smiles sadly, nods, then picks up the book and begins again.