Chapter 10 Lissa
To her surprise, Lissa didn’t feel like suggesting Cam leave to sleep elsewhere.
The couch would be comfortable and long enough for someone his height.
The rest of the house was frigid, and after looking out for him today, she felt some responsibility for his well-being.
Plus, having someone to talk to was an agreeable change.
He’d been polite and stayed out of her way. A model guest and patient.
But it was more than just having another person around that she enjoyed.
She also appreciated that he didn’t fill the time and space with empty talk.
After living alone for so long, it would’ve been jarring.
Instead, he spoke when he had something to say, not to hear himself speak.
More shocking yet, though he was a stranger, he also didn’t put her on edge or make her feel unsafe.
He had a quality about him that was calming and set her at ease.
Cam had cleaned up, then spent most of the day napping or reading.
He hadn’t complained about the previous three days, even though they must have been hell—injured and in pain, alone, and terrified of succumbing to thirst. The echoes of his desperate pleas through the door reminded her how worried he must have been.
He’d taken a risk in going outside during the blizzard for help.
She’d given him one of her favorite romance discoveries from the upstairs house library, and he’d read it without complaint.
Twice he’d even laughed out loud before drifting off, sitting upright, the book clutched in his hand.
Once asleep, fearing for his neck, she’d slid him down, covered him, and put a bookmark in for later.
When silence descended outside, indicating the blizzard had passed, she’d slipped outside to shovel a path toward her main woodshed.
It would take more than one session to extend her trail, and during winter, it was best not to fall behind on her close supply.
She’d toiled until her back ached and her arms shook from lifting the newly fallen snow several feet up to carve a path.
With the accumulated snow already over three feet deep, she didn’t worry about unwelcome visitors wandering the forest and discovering her behind the barricading wall.
Still, if the weather remained clear, she’d have to check the gate where Cam had entered.
For security reasons, she didn’t like the idea of an opening in the wall. For now, it would keep.
After dinner, Lissa returned to the outer porch at the top of the now-cleared stairs, the cold biting at her exposed skin.
Stepping down onto her cleared path, she adjusted her crocheted hat and scarf, even if she didn’t plan to be outside for long.
She wanted some idea of the weather so she would know what to expect tomorrow.
In the old days, she’d have used an app.
These days, it was most efficient to check by standing outside to gauge the temperature and scan the sky for clues about the forecast. Her breath emerged as white clouds in the frosty air while she kicked at the snow, which now had a dry, squeaky feel as if the moisture had been sucked dry.
The sky above was inky black, other than the bright pinpricks of light from the stars.
Wisps of fast-moving clouds seemed to vanish even as she stared.
She shivered, recognizing from the experience of past years the signs of an incoming arctic front. The sky seemed almost too clear, and the temperature had plummeted.
“Would you like me to head back to the other side of the house?” Cam’s voice startled her as she’d been engrossed in judging the weather. He’d followed her with his crutch and now stood in the entrance to the house.
She continued to stare at the clear heavens, finding it daunting to look him in the face. She found him attractive and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Eye contact was difficult anyway, let alone when she was unaccustomed to having anyone else around.
“You’ll freeze tonight. You can sleep on my couch.
The next few days will be too cold for us to go anywhere.
” Already, the fierce bite of the icy air was too extreme.
She turned inside. Good thing she’d fully restocked her woodpile.
If she couldn’t refill water from the well house, she could boil snow and strain the result, at least for cooking and washing.
She tapped her lip. Her existing supply of well water should be saved for drinking.
“I was okay without my own fire before,” Cam said, stepping out of the way while she replaced the towels around the base of the doors as they moved inside. “I don’t want to stay if I make you uncomfortable in your own home.”
She shook her head. “You don’t bother me.
You also didn’t have to deal with real cold.
In an hour or two, it could be minus fifty.
” October was early for that level of cold, but the arctic airflow had changed with quantities of volcanic debris in the air.
She followed him through the wood room and into the kitchen.
She packed the draft protection around the bottom of the second door, and then checked that the blankets she’d hung over the kitchen windows were tucked in.
“We rarely have these intense arctic spells until later in the winter,” he said, his gaze still facing outdoors—maybe toward his distant home.
“True,” she said, shooting him a look. “But the weather gods must not have received the memo.” The last several years had taught her to keep on her toes for the unexpected. Since the asteroid, the weather had become unpredictable and harsh.
Cam chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “I appreciate you letting me stay. I’ll try to keep out of your way. If I’m a bother after the temperature rises, let me know and I’ll move back to the office.”
She nodded. “Let’s take it day by day. I’m not used to people. Not since…” Her voice trailed off. She hadn’t enjoyed being around people most of her life as she found them overwhelming. Since living alone, her emotions required less energy to manage.
“The asteroid,” he said with a nod, jumping to a reasonable conclusion. “Six years is a long time to be alone. What happened in the first year?”
She inhaled, letting herself off the hook from explaining that she was an introvert and had always felt daunted by others.
His statement was also true. She seldom thought about the early days after the asteroid impact anymore, but they were now far enough back that they no longer felt raw.
“When everything went down, my husband was on a business trip to California. He never made it back.” She exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” said Cam, his eyes no longer sparkling, but sober.
“I waited at the refugee center in Denver for over a year. When the military evacuated everyone, I didn’t want to stay with the group. Instead, my cats and I set off on our own.” Even at the refugee center, she had shared nothing about Derrick. She’d kept to herself.
“You must still miss him. Your husband.”
She didn’t feel like explaining how abandoned she’d felt. How vulnerable. Jaw aching as she suppressed the upwelling of emotion, she shrugged. “Are you tired?”
“I slept all afternoon, so not really. But I woke you early. I can entertain myself if you need to sleep.” He pivoted toward the entrance to her apartment.
“Or, maybe we could play cards for a while.” She hadn’t had company or anyone to entertain in so long, even the words for an invitation felt rusty.
“I’d like that,” he said over his shoulder.
She glimpsed his faint smile.
Back in her room, it seemed warmer than usual, especially compared to the frigid air beyond.
Lissa picked up her Spider solitaire decks.
She often played with two matching decks combined, one red on the back, the other blue.
At the table, she quickly sorted the worn cards, setting one pile aside. “What would you like to play?”
Cam took the seat across from her. “Cribbage?”
“I don’t have a board. It wasn’t something I played alone.” She watched her hands while she spoke.
“Do you know how to play?” He shuffled the cards while waiting for her answer, the sound filling the quiet of the room.
She nodded. She’d been playing since fourth grade, when her teacher had taught the class.
“We can keep score on paper,” he said. “Winner is first to 121 points.”
Of course, it could be that easy. She tossed another chunk of wood onto the crackling fire and retrieved a pencil and paper.
“Low card deals?” She arched an eyebrow.
When he nodded, she picked up the deck and shuffled several times.
The rapid rustling of the cards flipping filled the room.
With practiced motions, she arched the cards into a bridge, loosening her grip to let them slot into position.
In the background, the fire snapped and the hot water she’d set to boil hissed, regular homey sounds.
Lissa cut a three while Cam cut a jack. Keeping her eyes on the tabletop, she dealt six cards each. With a quick glance at her hand, she tossed two cards into her crib hand. Despite not having played crib for years, how to play still came easily. “Hot chocolate?” she said, standing.
His eyes widened at her offer. “You’re full of surprises. Yes, please.”
While she collected mugs, he continued. “Even when I hoped it might be you, I didn’t expect anything except to solve the mystery of who you were.
Thank you again. I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t lucked into finding you.
When my ankle heals, if there’s anything I can do to help or make your life easier before I go home, I want to. ”