Wreckless Courage
Collin sat hunched over the dinner table, eyes fixed on a shard of blue glass.
He slid it slowly across the page, watching the letters shift and flicker beneath its tint.
From a small wooden box—forgotten long ago by Jiah—he felt along the bottom until his fingertip grazed another sharp edge.
He drew out a sliver of red and layered it over the blue, turning the hue a deep violet.
The cabin was warm, glowing in the flicker of firelight. The air smelled of pine, cedar, and toasted bread—quiet comforts that didn’t ask much of anyone.
Behind him, the fire cracked steadily, competing with the low, affectionate murmur of Aries and Hadria.
Their latest battle had raged well into the night—loud enough that Collin had considered going outside to freeze in peace.
But now came the aftermath, the ritual softening, the silk-wrapped apologies.
They lay tangled on the rug like exhausted animals, Aries whispering vows so ornate they bordered on theatrical. Promises spun in that breathless, poetic tone reserved only for lovers who’d screamed at each other all through the night.
Collin didn’t turn to look. He could picture it all perfectly. He slid the glass again, letting the words bloom beneath violet.
There came a gentle tap, tap, tap on the front door. Who would be visiting in this weather? The snow had stopped, but it was still frigid outside.
Hadria was already at the door. She opened it a crack and peeked through. In the next moment, she exclaimed with delight and wrenched it wide.
The freezing air rushed in like a starving animal, sinking its teeth into Collin’s side. One half of him burned while the other half froze.
Hadria hastily herded her guests inside. “What are you boys doing here? You must all be frozen!”
Nic stomped in, bringing snow on his boots. “Cold builds character, or so I’m told. I’m holding out for frostbite and enlightenment.”
River shoved past Nic with a groan, followed closely by his dog.
Lekyi greeted Hadria and Collin with a bright smile.
“Can Collin and Aries come out to play?” asked Nic.
Collin closed the book with the glass shard still pressed between the pages. He was glad to see people other than Aries and Hadria.
Nic pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, while River and Lekyi plopped themselves into the armchairs by the fire. Before closing the door against the cold, Hadria quickly swept the snow over the threshold and then tossed a rag over the wet spot on the floor.
“Anyone want something hot to drink?” Aries asked as he rolled over on the rug.
“No drinks for us—we’re on a tight schedule of bad decisions.” Nic leaned in toward the box. “First up: ice fishing.”
Collin ran a hand lazily through his hair and then stretched his arms, shoulders, and back. “Where is Uriah?”
“Oh, poor Uri’s come down with a cough—phlegm and all the musical details,” Nic said with a tragic shake of his head. “He’ll live, but only if he’s allowed to suffer in peace. So Mother kicked me and River out to preserve what little sanity we have left.”
“How do you like living over there?” Aries asked River.
“I love it!”
“My mother’s obsessed with Riv,” Nic said, grinning. “She’s already trying to adopt him for the free medical advice. Says if he moves out this spring, we’ll all die of splinters and poor judgment.”
River looked both embarrassed and pleased. “I like talking to her.”
Nic reached for the crumpled village publication in the middle of the table, smoothing it out like it owed him coin. “Admit it—you like being fussed over. She tells you to drink broth and you actually do it.”
River shrugged, but a blush began to spread over his cheeks. “What’s wrong with that?”
Aries patted River heartily on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Enjoy it, River! Nic doesn’t know what it’s like to be motherless.”
“Well, that certainly is practical,” Nic snorted with barely contained mirth.
He shook out the publication with a theatrical flourish and bellowed, “River, listen to this! Since you want a woman in your life... Widow in White Wood seeks husband. Must be able to sire children. Experience farmer preferred.”
“Oh, that rules me out,” Lekyi said, roaring with laughter.
“Which part?” Collin asked, unable to stifle his own amusement.
“Must you read that awful column?” Hadria growled disapprovingly.
Nic ran a hand through his hair as he doubled over with laughter. “Here’s one for you, Hadria! One-legged man seeks wife under forty for laundry and cooking—bonus, still has all his teeth!”
The room exploded into wild laughter. Not even River could bury a chuckle.
“Speaking of leg,” Hadria said pointedly, which only caused the volume of uncontained laughter to increase. “You can’t go ice fishing with those crutches!”
“Thank you, Hadria! Exactly what I said.” River threw his hands dramatically in the air. “We ran into him on our way here and he insisted on coming along, but I said—”
“I was going crazy shut up in the house, studying nonstop. I just needed out.”
“When are you getting rid of those crutches?” asked Collin.
“Wish I knew. Fol says I’ve got a lot of soft tissue damage, and that takes the longest to heal.”
“You really shouldn’t go,” said River. “What if you slip and cause more damage? Or you end up cracking the ice with the crutches?”
“Riv, ease up—Lekyi’s not made of glass.” Nic tossed the crumpled paper onto the table, clearly pleased with how thoroughly he was irritating Hadria. “If the man wants to risk frostbite for a fish, let him. God, you’re all acting like we’re planning a siege.”
He shot to his feet with sudden purpose. “All right, gents! Enough heartfelt chatter. Time to fulfill our noble quest.”
Then he rounded on Collin and shook him by the shoulders like a man trying to restart a broken clock.
“You lot go find enlightenment on the ice,” Collin said, batting Nic off. “I’ll stay here and commune with the broom.”
He kept his tone light, but his eyes lingered on the book and the colored shards scattered across the table. A few hours without Hadria hovering, no banter, no performance—that was the dream.
“I’m not going,” Hadria declared, cocooning herself in a blanket. “I’ve never ice fished in my life, and I have no plans to start.”
Collin suppressed a sigh. So much for solitude.
Of all the people to be snowed in with—it had to be her.
Prodding, forever perched on the edge of a question.
He could already feel her watching him, like she was trying to crack him open with pure concentration.
Any minute now, she’d pounce—the emotional ambush was inevitable.
Nic already had one hand on the door. “Get up, Collin. You can sulk later. We’re going to freeze our asses off and pretend it’s recreational.”
“I really should—”
“Do chores? Please,” Nic scoffed. “What could possibly be more exciting than frozen fingers and the scent of fish guts?”
River chimed in gently, “The lake is beautiful this time of day. You’d enjoy it.”
Collin hesitated, his gaze drawn to the frost-covered window.
Beyond it, the snow glistened under the winter sun, untouched and beckoning.
He imagined the sound of snow crunching under boots, the silence that only winter could create, the sharp cold in his lungs that made him feel somehow more awake.
The frozen lake called to him like a half-forgotten dream.
Then came Hadria’s voice—soft but unmistakably pointed. “You probably need a break from me anyway.”
He turned toward her. She met his gaze without blinking.
That decided it. He wouldn’t win staying here. And the thought of fresh air, of laughter, of temporary escape, suddenly felt like salvation.
“Fine,” he muttered, standing up. “But only for a little while.”
Aries grinned and tossed him his coat and gloves. “Great! Let’s go!”
Lekyi tried to struggle from the armchair but sank back with a somewhat theatrical groan.
“No! That’s it! You’re not going! It’s my professional opinion—"
“All right! All right! You needn’t shout at me! My leg is throbbing after that walk anyway.”
“Perfect,” Nic exclaimed stridently. “Hadria can look after Lekyi while we go brave the elements!”
The moment Collin grabbed his scarf from the hook, Nic was already shoving him boisterously out the door. “Move it, snowflake! Time for real men to prove their frostbite threshold.”
“Wait! Let me grab my snowshoes,” Collin said, fumbling with the straps as they spilled out into the blinding cold.
Aries followed last, his coat half-buttoned, carrying an extra pair of gloves. “Did anyone remember bait?”
“Damn, forgot,” Nic said.
Collin snorted. “You forgot the bait?”
“A minor oversight. Great generals don’t carry their own supplies!”
“I brought some worms,” River said proudly. “They were wriggling this morning.”
Nic clapped him on the back. “They’re probably frozen solid by now, but no worries! Stiff bait for stiff fish.”
The air hit Collin’s lungs like shards of glass, but he welcomed the sting.
The snow was waist-deep in some spots, glittering untouched where it hadn’t been trampled.
A narrow path snaked through the trees, half-stomped by the boys’ earlier trek.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, scattering soft patterns across the white earth.
“Be careful out there!” Hadria called from the window, waving at Aries like he was off to war. Her hair was swaddled in a blanket, only her eyes visible—two dramatic orbs peering out from her self-made cocoon.
Nic gave Aries a playful shove. “Don’t worry, darling! We’ll return your beloved before sunset—or if not, I’ll find you someone better from the classifieds.”
Aries waved her off, but his ears turned red.
“She’s really worried about the ice?” River asked, falling into step beside him.
“She’s been on edge all winter. She thinks I’m going to fall through and vanish.”
“Romantic,” Nic scoffed. “Nothing says true love like hypothermia-based anxiety.”