Page 21 of Silver Brewer

[Giant]

Bad weather was coming. The ache near my bullet wound told me as such, and I didn’t trust how Letty would fare. After our day of ax throwing and a night of burgers, we chatted more about her upbringing in Chicago. Her eyes drooped in the heat of the fire as she sat wrapped in a camp blanket. She was so pretty sitting there under the stars with the flames casting a glow on her cheeks.

“I think I’ll retire early,” she says, pressing off the ground, and my breath hitches. I want her to ask me to join her, but she doesn’t. I’ve dodged a bullet, or rather an ax, all day as we never discussed last night. In some ways, I’m bothered by this as Clara and I never talked about awkward situations in our relationship. It was one of the strains on our marriage. In an effort not to argue, we didn’t confront one another.

I’m not a talker, so it isn’t as though I want an emotional chat, but I would like to know what she thought of last night. Did she enjoy herself? Did I make her happy? Last night wasn’t like anything I’d ever done before, and selfishly, I want a repeat with more experimenting.

I wait out the flames a bit by stringing up our food, and then the first raindrop plops. Before entering the tent, I dump dirt on the dying embers. Once undercover, I strip down to my boxer briefs and a T-shirt like I did last night. I run hot, and the thermal sleeping bag makes me too warm. Slipping onto my back, I stare at the tent’s ceiling, taking in deep breaths to calm my memories of yesterday evening. Letty’s steady breathing next to me tells me she’s fast asleep. She worked hard today, tossing axes and helping me build a fire for tonight’s feast, so I imagine she’s exhausted.

I don’t like what I’ve learned about her former fiancé. What an asshole. And her sister, well, there aren’t enough words to string together for her. I’d kill one of my brothers if they ever went after a woman I’d been interested in. Then again, I’ve only ever had Clara until ten years ago, and after her, it’s been rather sporadic. I don’t fault Clara. I loved her, but without communication, we didn’t understand what the other needed when it came to sex. And while I wanted more, Clara wasn’t curious or adventurous.

With that thought, I exhale and roll to my side, my back to Letty.

A rustling occurs behind me, and I hear her shifting in her sleeping bag, its nylon covering rutting against the tent canvas. Unconsciously, Letty scoots into me. She doesn’t wrap around me but burrows into my spine, and I stiffen for a second before giving in to the sensation. I don’t question the movement, liking the way she feels behind me. It’s comforting until the first crack of weather hits.

Letty shoots upright.

“What was that?” Her voice is filled with fear.

“Thunder,” I mumble, rolling onto my back. I can’t see her in the darkness, and then the lightning strikes. Her wide blue eyes meet mine for only a second, and the look on her face is pure terror before we are submerged in darkness again.

“Hey,” I say, sitting up and reaching for her cheek. Her skin is soft but clammy. “It will pass.”

She’s nodding continuously as I guide her to lie back down. It’s awkward in two sleeping bags, but I wrap an arm over her, attempting to hold her. There’s nothing romantic or cuddle-worthy in the position. Letty trembles under my arm. Both her hands cover her face buried into my chest.

Thunder rumbles again. Lightning filters into the tent. And Letty shudders.

The rain hasn’t started in earnest, but the wind picks up. The tent rattles, and Letty’s coming unhinged, trembling under my arm.

“You’re really scared, aren’t you?”

She shakes her head against my chest, but it’s the opposite of her body language.

“Is it the lightning?”

“It’s the thunder.” She pauses a beat. “If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice quivers, and whatever she isn’t telling me is bad, and the thunder is a trigger. I know all about triggers, and this tent isn’t going to be enough to settle her.

“Get dressed.”

She pulls back from me, and I hastily sit up.

“There’s bad weather coming, and we need to get you out of here. We can’t make it back to my cabin, but there’s an old ranger station about a hundred yards from here. If we hurry, we might miss the rain.”

I switch on the camp light and watch as her hands shake. She slips off her pajama bottoms under the sleeping bag and then crawls forward for something in her bag. Her smooth backside faces me as she’s wearing a thong, and I try not to lose focus as I scramble for my pants. It’s tight quarters in the two-person tent, but we somehow work in sync like a well-timed machine. She slips black yoga pants out of her bag and tugs them up her long legs. I notice her toes. Blisters swell on her pinkies as well as on each heel. My eyes leap to her face, but she isn’t looking at me as she struggles to tug on her socks. I toss her my thin rain slicker.

“What about you?” she asks, pulling it on over her sweatshirt.

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t consider being modest as I slip from my bag and pull on my pants. I finish dressing quickly, tugging on a flannel but not bothering to button it. Then I grab my backpack and the battery lamp. Letty reaches for her pack.

“Ready?”

She nods before she follows me out the tent. Thunder cracks again, and Letty screams. I tug her to me.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she mumbles into my chest. Her trembling is unbearable. I don’t know what she’s apologizing for, but I walk us forward. I want to keep her pressed to me, but we won’t move fast enough with her wrapped under my arm. She must sense this as she slips from my side. “Just go.” She reaches for my hand, and I tug her along behind me, holding up the lamp to lead the way.

We haven’t made it ten feet before the rain pours from the sky. Thankfully, the heavy branches keep us relatively protected from the pelting drops. We race among the trees, Letty keeping up with me until we break into a small clearing with the old station. She shivers uncontrollably next to me as I fumble for the key hidden on the upper jamb. When I press the door open, she flings herself inside, tripping, and then scrambles to the wall opposite the door. The rain falls in earnest as the thunder and lightning increase in frequency. The storm is over us.

I drop my backpack and set the camp light on the floor. I want to turn it off to conserve the battery, but the fear in Letty’s eyes tells me to leave the soft glow on. I fall to my knees and crawl over to her. The old station has wood floors. Not hard wood, just uncovered boards. A single cot lines one wall while a metal desk and squeaky rolling chair stand on the other side of the room. The only other door in the place leads to a small bathroom. A kitchenette is next to the bathroom.