Page 27 of Silver Brewer

“What?”

“I know how much it can be a bother.” I swallow before I continue. My heart races as I speak. “When my wife was sick, she liked it when I washed her hair. When it all fell out, I cleaned her scalp. We pretended her hair was still there.”

Her eyes instantly fill with tears, but I don’t want her sympathy. She licks her lips and turns her back to me.

“She was a lucky woman to have such care and attention.” I hold my breath, questioning the honesty of her words, but she twists back to face me with a weak smile, letting me know she means every word.

“It’s going to be cold at first.” Positioning one knee near her, I tip her back over my propped thigh. Then I release her hair from the band, allowing the thick tresses to tumble toward the ground. It’s long, so I’ll need to watch that it doesn’t dip into the dirt. I pour a portion of the water jug over her hair, and she closes her eyes.

“Cold?” I question.

“It’s okay,” she mutters. She’s more than okay. Other than when we started, she hasn’t complained once about our arrangement. Outside bathroom. Eating from a pan. Even sleeping in a tent. I’ve had fun with her. Ax throwing, laughing, even a foiled attempt at flipping a burger over an open flame. Letty is a metaphor for life, and I want to live her. Yet disappointment seems inevitable.

“Clara…” I pause, and Letty’s eyes snap open. “That was my wife’s name. We were high school sweethearts. I was this big oaf football player, and she was a quiet book girl. I always wanted to go into the military, and she only wanted to be a mother. We weren’t talkers. Weren’t eloquent. We fumbled a lot.” I chuckle, recalling our first kiss, our first time in bed, and all the near misses. We grew practiced but not passionate. “It wasn’t fair to lose her so young.”

Letty nods and water drips onto her forehead. I swipe at it, taking my time to caress the side of her face as I stare down at her. Breaking the connection of our eyes, I reach for the shampoo next to me and squirt some on her hair. Apricots. It suits her. I massage the growing suds around her temple and lift her head for the underside. She hums like she did when we had sex, and I smile to myself. This is a noise I’m not certain I can live without hearing.

“She was thirty-nine when she passed.”

“How old are you?”

“I’ll be fifty next spring.”

Her eyes pop open. “You don’t look fifty.”

The corner of my mouth tugs upward. “I’ve got gray hair.”

Her eyes narrow, and she checks out my beard. “A few, but you also don’t seem that old.”

“Thank you.” I snort. “And how old are you?”

“I just turned forty.”

I gaze down at her. She can’t be. “You look so young.”

A smile brightens her face although her eyes have closed. “You’re a charmer, Mr. Harrington.”

Her teasing tone further curls my lip.

“No one ever says that about me.” You’re so standoffish, returns to my thoughts. How many people have you tried to charm? I ask myself.

Her eyes open again as I massage her scalp. “Charmer?” she questions.

“Yes.”

“Huh,” she huffs. “I find you very charming.” Her lids lower lazily, but her lips twist like she doesn’t approve of this finding.

“And how is that?”

“You’re thoughtful and kind. And you obviously took care of your wife. You’re a lucky man to have loved someone so deeply. And washing hair is a romantic gesture.” My fingers pause on her sudsy locks. She isn’t wrong. I loved my wife. Clara loved me. We worked, but it’s been ten years. My mother’s voice trickles through my head.

It could happen again.

I peer down at Letty. Her blue eyes are cut off from me, but her pink lips pout. She has the perfect slope to her nose and apple-defined cheeks. I want to lower and kiss her, and then I remember again I haven’t kissed her. I’ve touched her and fucked her, but we haven’t kissed.

I’m such an idiot.

“Going to rinse now,” I warn. “Tell me if it’s too warm.” I lean forward and drag the bucket of water from the fire. Hoping I didn’t let it sit too long, I dip a finger in the liquid to test the temperature. Not hot. Not frigid. I grip the edge of the bucket and pour the water over her suds-filled hair.