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Every long hour of work he’s put in over the days leading up to the storm, as well as his day-to-day duties. I can only imagine how hard the man works.
Actually, I can testify to how hard he works. I don’t think I’ll stop smiling for a week.
Mission accomplished.
His huge arms around me are enough to keep me warm and covered, his hard body against mine, leaving me in a new constant state of excitement.
The light through the window tells me it’s late afternoon, and although I could stay in bed with Ben forever, I want to do something special for him.
Something to let him know how much all of this means.
I know he promised me a bath and that we could soak in the tub together, but I’d prefer to see him have his earned rest and try my hand at fixing us both some dinner first.
The way he put together the meat and vegetables for a slow-cooked stew for us convinces me it can’t be so hard, and I have the idea to maybe add some potatoes or even polenta to the meal.
Whatever polenta is, but I did see a pack in that box of produce.
I lay with Ben as long as I can before my desire to please him beyond the bedsheets takes over.
I’m determined.
I’m gonna fix us both something to eat.
The house is cold and dark in most parts, but a closed window here and a re-stoked fire there and some lights on gives the place a more homely feel pretty quick.
The smell of Ben’s recipe isn’t hard to follow all the way to the kitchen, and lifting the lid I wonder how I could compete with something so delicious.
But it’s only polenta, right?
The pack directions are simple enough, and I figure the old wood stove might need just a tad more wood to get some heat up.
I stack as much as I can into the little cast iron doorway from the scuttle of chopped wood before turning to read more directions and filling the old copper pan with water from the working faucet.
It’s an old style kitchen, but like so much in the house, Ben has it ready.
The counter, sink, and faucet are all modern, blending seamlessly with the older and original fixtures.
The only ‘old stuff’ I can see is the curtains as well as the linoleum floor.
Everything shifts so quickly I can’t decide if it’s something I’ve done or if it just seems to happen by magic.
I turn to put my pan on the stove, but see a cloth hanging over the iron door and the stove ignites.
Before I can blink, the flames from the same cloth spark life from the fire, and in no time, the curtains nearby are lit up too from the tall flames.
I reach for the nearest pan of water on the sideboard, and tossing it into the flames I scream.
It’s not water I’m tossing, but oil. Some sort of solvent Ben’s used to treat the timber.
On the other side of the stove, I didn’t think. I just reached for the pan of liquid and tossed it.
The whole wall behind and including the stove puffs to life. Blossoming bright orange-black flames in a second.
“Oh my god…”
Okay, I can handle this. I’ll just…
Nope.
This is bad.
Very bad.
I try to call out for Ben, I really do. But I know he’ll be so mad at me for being so stupid, ruining his whole house on our first night here together, I just freeze in terror.
My mouth is open, but I can’t even squeak a sound. I can’t even breathe.
Lights flash across my eyes and I figure I’m passing out from the fumes until I hear a piercing wail.
The smoke alarm sings and a sturdy body against mine scoops me up yet again, saving me for the second time in two days.
I try to stay conscious, but the black smoke floods my eyes until I can’t keep them open anymore.
Shadowy figures move and shout, although I can’t understand what they’re yelling about.
The lights aren’t all from just a fire either.
“I’m here baby, I’ve got you,” I hear a desperate voice gasping, cling to me, making sure I’m safe.
“Oh, Ben,” I groan. Knowing it has to be him. Knowing nobody else could save me.
But I’m wrong.
“Ben?” My dad’s voice rises. “Honey, it’s me. Dad. What the hell happened here?” he cries out, and I can already see his jaw turning towards the house.
Eyes hard, a thousand questions in his gaze once he can see I’m safe in his arms.
But I want Ben.
Where is Ben?
“Ben’s with the Sherriff and deputy, helping put out the fire. What happened here sweetie? My god, I should never have let you go,” he groans, clutching me closer to him.
But all I want is my Ben, and as soon as I get some breath back, I break free and run back towards the house, calling for the man I love.
