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This morning had been beautiful in a way she never imagined. There had been laughter, joy, and understanding, as well as a recognition in both of them. He was sweet, tender, and had been in no hurry to move away from her, almost as if he was enjoying that stolen moment too.
He made crass jokes about not wearing pants, teased his disappointment that things didn’t go further between them, and then instead of kissing her, he’d promised to keep earning a chance to kiss her, working on whatever this was between them.
The glass door to the outside of the cabin swung open, and she met his smile.
“Sorry, it took me a moment. It started snowing, so I went back and grabbed a scarf and hat, too, and look what I found. Handwarmers. I’ve used these before, and if you pop them open, drop them in your jeans pockets, it will help you keep the inside of your coat warm too.”
She angled her head slightly as she smiled easily up at him.
“Shouldn’t my handwarmers go into my hands?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he murmured softly, giving her a slight smile. “Not only can I keep Bigfoot away from you – I’ll keep you warm. I promise.”
Lena chuckled quietly, remembering his comments that first night regarding why he was sleeping on the ground floor of the tiny cabin.
“Of course you are keeping Bigfoot away from me,” she teased softly. “You’re the man, remember? It’s your job.”
“Never forget it,” he quipped, bragging slightly… but there was a playful tone to his voice that was enchanting as he held out his hand toward her.
Lena yanked on the knitted cap on her head, pooled the crocheted infinity scarf around her neck, looping it twice, and then slipped on her gloves before putting her hand in his.
Neither said a thing as they walked out into the evening, walking silently in the moonlight that caused the snow to glisten wildly. It was weirdly peaceful, invigorating, and awfully romantic no matter how you looked at things. They were alone, holding hands and walking in a winter wonderland that made them feel like they were the only two people in the world.
“Tell me about yourself,” Jake suddenly said in the stillness. “Where are you from?”
“Sweet Bloom, Texas – just outside of New Braunfels,” she answered and looked at him. “And you? Where are you from?”
“Recently Afghanistan,” he smiled, looking sideways at her. “But originally my family was from Honduras. My parents were deported from the States when I was fifteen, and then I bounced around for a while.”
“Oh really? You didn’t go with them?”
“No,” he admitted quietly. “I remember how hard it was when we were little and felt intimidated or trapped at the time. The world seemed so big back then, and I knew that if I left, I’d never come back to see my friends or graduate high school with my buddies.”
He looked at her and smirked.
“Little did I know that when you graduated high school, everyone scattered, and I never saw my buddies again anyhow – you know?”
“Are your parents still in Honduras?”
“Yeah. I think so. I’ve tried reaching out every once in a while and sent money a few times, but it’s weird. When there is such a distance, and you lose contact. It’s almost like you become strangers in a way – and sad, too. I wish them well, but I don’t want to go back ever. I’m an American now and prefer to stay that way.”
“You became a citizen?”
“Yup. The whole dog and pony show.”
“You sound proud…”
“Iamproud,” he replied quietly. “I’m very proud of what I’ve done and chose my path to give back to the country that took care of me. I was given a job, fed, welcomed, and found my footing along the way. I’ve made friends, traveled the world, and become who I am because of this opportunity that I had to become a citizen; so yeah, I’m really proud.”
“What about you? What did you do for a living before coming here?”
“Drugs,” she blurted out bitterly. “I was a failure, a flunkie, a screw-up, and…”
“Lena,” Jake interrupted, pulling her to a stop and looking at her pointedly in that no-nonsense way of his. “You made amistake– and everyone does that. That doesn’t make you a screw-up. You’re human, and that’s part of who we are. Do you think I haven’t messed up in my life?”
She looked at him warily, anticipating that whatever he said wouldn’t be the same. No, she’d messed up several times and was weak, stupid, and…
“People make mistakes and do things because they think it would be fun at the time or struggle to fit in. I was once so drunk in public that I didn’t remember falling onto a curb between two parked cars. I had gone out with my buddies who were celebrating my twenty-first birthday, and I have never been so sick before in my life. Part of growing is learning and experimenting…”
