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It took several minutes for the heat to kick on, but when it did things got cozy. I was nestled happily between my two men, staring through the windshield and into the darkness. Already it had begun to snow.
“Is your place far?” Brody asked.
“Not too bad. An hour maybe.”
The heat from the vents washed over us as Lincoln navigated the pitch black highways. Personally I couldn’t see anything. There weren’t even any streetlights.
“This reminds me of Texas,” I sighed contentedly. “But without the snow.”
“Yeah, but you have cow-tipping,” Brody offered.
I rolled my eyes theatrically. “Oh yeah. There’s always that.”
What started out as small ice crystals turned into heavy white flakes as the drive went on. Snow began accumulating on the roads. The wind was whipping it across our field of vision, creating almost whiteout conditions that forced Lincoln to slow down.
“I didn’t realize the storm would be this bad,” he said. “I haven’t had much time to look at the weather.”
“Got firewood at this cabin?” asked Brody.
“No, but I have an axe,” Lincoln answered. When Brody looked at me and mouthed the words ‘what the fuck’ Lincoln let out a hearty laugh. “Yes there’s firewood,” he finally admitted. “But the place has heat too.”
I snuggled into him on the driver’s side. His arm felt firm and wonderful beneath my cheek. “I want a fire anyway,” I said.
“Then you’ll have one. And soon too, because we’re here.”
The Bronco swung right, and a long driveway spilled out before us. Lincoln drove on for what seemed like several hundred more feet before a large but cozy-looking cabin came into view.
“Welcome to Chalet Wallace,” he announced, as we rolled to a stop. He yanked up on the parking brake.
Lights were on throughout the house. High above, I could see smoke rising from the chimney as well.
“Is there someone else here?”
“No,” said Lincoln. “But I had the place prepped for us ahead of time. Lights… heat… the wood-burning stove…”
Brody shook his head in awe. “Man, you’ve got a lot of people doing a lot of things for you,” he whistled low.
“I do,” Lincoln admitted. “I’ve been very lucky.”
“You’ve also worked very hard,” I pointed out. “You took risks. Sacrificed long hours. You built something for yourself, Lincoln. That’s why you have this. Not luck.”
He slung my bag over one shoulder, and his bag over the other. The look he gave me though, was one of admiration.
“Door should be open,” he said, jerking his head at Brody. “Go on in.”
Brody sprinted happily up the walkway and pushed his way inside. As he did, Lincoln made his way over to me.
“I need to thank you again,” he said, “for all the help you’ve given me.” He looked down at the ground for a second. “You know, with the books. And with Kathy. And…”
“It’s okay,” I smiled, grasping his one free hand. “Anytime.”
“No, I mean it Holly,” he said. “You’re really… well…”
I laughed into the wind. “I’m what?”
“You’re special to me.”
We stared at each other, and suddenly I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. There was just the two of us — his eyes, finding mine. Locking onto them. Drawing me in.
