Chapter 51 - Lily
Lily
Aburst of cold air flew past Dean as he closed the door.
“More falling snow. Chickens fed, and there’s enough wood for a few days.” Dean held out his arms to show off the small woodpile he carried.
“Stew is ready.”
He dropped the wood on the pile and removed his knit cap. “I’m starving, and my nose is cold. Did I mention the snow?”
“It hasn’t stopped,” I said as Dean opened the pot lid and stole a bite before I shooed his hand away. “You can wait a little longer.”
“Yes, but did I mention my hunger pains?” He stroked the hair on his cheeks and neck.
Dean shaved right before his last foraging mission. It’d been scruffy when we first arrived in our cabin two weeks ago and had since grown into a full beard. Its deep color, a charcoal black compared to the softer brown on his head, glinted off the fire.
I tickled his chin. “You haven’t shaved since we arrived.”
“It protects me from the elements. Plus, I look manly, which is a bonus.” Dean’s voice lowered as he asked, “Do you want me to get rid of it?”
The casual delivery and whiskers didn’t hide his sheepish expression. If I demanded it, he’d find the nearest razor and shave it off. “Keep it. It suits you. I married a handsome man.” I kissed him. “The handsomest.”
He beamed, reminding me once again how unused to compliments he still was.
Dean pulled biscuits from the oven while I grabbed two bowls and spoons for our dinner of stew, made with potatoes and other vegetables, along with the meat from a rabbit he’d caught the day before. A simple meal, and one of the greatest feasts of my life.
“Another movie tonight?” he asked as we relaxed after dinner.
I put a finger to my lips, pretending to consider his question, despite us both knowing the answer.
Other than the rare battery, I never believed we’d enjoy electricity’s miracles again.
Dean’s grandfather had installed a few solar panels on the roof, enough to run the kitchen appliances, the basement’s deep freezer, and our beloved television set.
Dean swept the panels every morning, and we reveled in the power they gave us.
“How about something from 1972 or 1980? Both gave us movie classics such as….” I trailed off, unable to think of a single title.
“How about that movie with those actors we don’t recognize?”
I clapped my hands. “That one’s my favorite.”
As much as we appreciated his grandfather’s efforts, we were also amused. Two different generations, and each with its own movie preferences. We watched his movies, fell in love with some plots, and laughed at the dated styles in others.
“The ceremony is tomorrow,” I reminded Dean, taking his hand with both of my own.
“More sending him off with a thank you rather than a ceremony,” he said.
We spent the past several days digging a resting place for his grandfather.
I insisted on helping after realizing the work was rougher than we guessed.
Dean protested, which I ignored until he gave up.
Who knew digging holes in the dirt would be so satisfying after the trauma of a comet destroying a world?
The sore muscles reminded us we still lived.
“How so?”
“Remember how I said Ryan directed me? That’s true, but not all true. Grandpa did it first, all those years ago. He gave the same solution to every problem. Deal with it.” Dean flicked his hand at the description.
“Isn’t that how most problems get solved?”
“Yes, I suppose. If there’s a hole in the roof, fix it. Are you hungry? Go get food. He told me to get out of my head and act. Smart thinking, yeah? Your brother directed me later, but my start? That was Grandpa.”
I didn’t miss Dean’s repeated use of grandpa rather than the more formal grandfather. “That’s a beautiful sentiment.”
His face scrunched up. “Maybe. It’s how I managed the comet. Keep solving one problem before moving on to the next. It’s how I dealt with it. I owe him that. You asked why I didn’t freak out. That’s how.”
“Then I owe him, too. Because his helping you helped me.”
His voice lowered. “That’s how I managed Deer Lake.”
Neither of us had spoken about the town or its people since we left. An unconscious choice for me, as I needed distance and time to focus on our relationship before worrying about the rest.
“I wonder if they’re hungry,” I said as my thoughts drifted.
Dean drew back. “No one is hungry. The three men Julian sent with me?”
“What about them?”
“Julian stole the food. He’s the one behind it all.”
“He thought terrorizing people would undermine his uncle and bring him to power. That’s what he offered me,” I said.
“Are we ready to talk about it?” Dean asked.
“Maybe. He suggested we rule together, which sounds ridiculous now. I refused, and that’s when...”
“You saved yourself,” he offered.
“Yeah. Yes.”
Dean smiled at me, and I returned it.
“With Julian dead, all the stolen supplies will go back to the people he took them from. No one is going hungry this winter. That’s thanks to you, Lily. You’re the one who stopped him.”
“That’s…thank you.” I stared down at my empty soup bowl.
“I never told you. Huh. I guess, with everything, we never got around to it.”
“Could you tell me the rest now?”
“It’s why we used that cruiser to escape. It drew attention our way, and I hoped made them believe your dad was a victim. What I did, stabbing him like that, was to save him. You get that, right?”
“I get it. As traumatic as it was, I never doubted you.”
“They’ll blame me for Julian, and Henry will back up that tale.
With Weston Foster missing, they might think I killed him, too.
Plus those three men.” He noted my expression and raised a hand.
“Not like it sounds. I only threatened one. And tied up all three. We won’t see them again. I didn’t kill any of them for you.”
For Dean, that was an achievement. I accepted forever when he returned the ring to my finger, knowing this side of him existed along with the sweet, shyer part he gave me. “You saved a lot of innocent people.”
“We both did.”
“Oh, one more thing. I owe Ian Chance a favor for taking in the Fosters, which’ll bite my ass at some point. Be warned, because that’ll come one day. I’d have found you earlier if it wasn’t for that.”
“Don’t apologize for saving them.” More proof he deserved the hero label, though I held back. It caused him discomfort, and some wounds were still raw. “You mentioned Ian Chance before. Rose, as well, though not in a flattering way. She called them a gang.”
“Some criminal activity and a dash of outlaw. Ian doesn’t hold Deer Lake management in high regard, if you get me.”
“The sheriff?” I guessed, and Dean nodded. “How about my father?”
Dean nodded again. “He’s not the trusting kind. We also still have a problem.”
“Julian’s murder.” Another topic I wanted to forget.
Dean relaxed. “Yes. We’ll have the sheriff and all his supporters looking for me. I’m a wanted man now.”
“Rose said he was her father’s favorite. He won’t take it well. Julian plotted the robberies, but they’ll deal with the fallout. Let’s say the sheriff is innocent.”
“Big if, but keep going,” Dean said.
“Will that continue? I’m not sure.”
“I should have stayed like you asked. If I’d skipped helping Weston, Julian wouldn’t…”
“It doesn’t matter if you came late. What matters is that you came.” I avoided thinking about that night. My sleep since we found the cabin has been restful. With Dean beside me, we slept in each other’s arms before I woke in the mornings, secure and loved. “You came back.”
“I always will. There’s only one question left.”
“What?” We’d talked it out. What else remained?
“We’re stuck here now. No one is coming to clear the roads, and we don’t have weather reports. We can stay for years. What do we do next?”
“We’ll stay through the winter,” I started. “For us. To be. We deserve our winter.”
“What about after? I told Bill we’d see him again, but if that’s not what you want, tell me. Tell me what happens next.”
“We could stay here forever,” I probed, curious how he’d respond.
“If that’s your choice, we’ll make it happen.”
His response offered the security I’d longed for. A safe harbor with Dean? “I won’t make that choice alone. We both decide. You go first.”
He chuckled at my statement. “My mother is there, and I’d like to see her again; plus, your father is alone, fighting battles without allies. It seems like he’d appreciate a couple.”
“With you a wanted man?” My stomach twisted, knowing our not-so-cozy post-dinner conversation decided our fates. “We leave at the first sign of spring. If we deem it safe, we go to Deer Lake. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“This is ours. Here.” I tapped the table and gripped his hand, squeezing it. “No one knows about it. This cabin and land are our secret. Even if Ryan comes home or we spend time in Deer Lake, this is ours.”
“I can agree to that.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Winter belongs to us. It’s also important to be honest. I miss home and my family, but that doesn’t mean I regret coming with you. You got that?”
“Yes, I got that.”
We shook hands as if we had finished negotiating, rather than the intimate discussion between a married couple in love that it was. I didn’t fear the future; the opposite. Hope filled me. I had Dean and so much more.
If he made peace with his past, I’d make peace with what the future held.
“And no going anywhere without me. We stay together,” I reminded him.
“Together. That’s easy.”
“Oh, one more thing. I almost forgot.” Dean picked up the coat he’d lent me the night we escaped.
“These are for you.” He set the crystal deer and my parents’ wedding photo on the kitchen table.
“I didn’t plan to bring them here exactly, but something told me to take them, just in case.
That real estate office worked fine, but it wasn’t our home. ”
I stroked my deer. “Glass like a lake. Look, I never noticed before.” I stroked my mother’s hand in the photo. “Her ring. Look how close it is to mine.”
“What’s next? We could watch a movie.”
“We have all winter to watch movies.” I threw myself into his lap and kissed him.
“Smart choice. I only have forever to make love to my wife.” Dean picked me up. “Legs around my waist.” He stumbled to the bed where we fell over during a shared fit of giggles. “Oh, that was my elbow. Sorry. Sorry.”
I rubbed my side as an old memory returned. “You did that before.”
“Our first time.”
Laughs resumed as we squirmed out of our clothes, bodies bumping and knocking against each other. I beat him to it, shoving Dean against the headboard and climbing over him.
Our lips met, joining as they had so many times before. His hands ruined my skin, and his kisses turned my body to fire.
I lifted my hips and sank onto him, gasping with joy. I’d never grow tired of this. Not with him.
“Each time with you is like another homecoming all over again,” he said.
Others would mistake that for a general endearment, one offered as part of making love. Not for Dean. He’d spent his life searching for home, for belonging. We’d found it, lost in the mountains, with only a cabin and each other’s arms.
I wiggled, settling and relaxing into his arms, absorbing the thick length of him inside me.
Dean’s hips bucked.
“Are you anxious?” I teased.
“Giving up control isn’t one of my strengths,” he said, causing me to laugh. “Not great at it, if we’re honest.”
My body rolled against him, and his hips jerked against mine, both of us desperate, searching for the other’s release.
He grunted, and I screamed as we both fell apart.
Our home. Wherever we were, home was the other person.