Beth's thoughts were broken up by a gust of frigid wind blasting her in the face. She wished she would have brought some kind of jacket. Then again, if she had known she would be stranded in the first place, she would have perhaps thought to bring extra clothes as well. And more chocolate. Tilting her head to look up into the black expanse of the sky, she was thrilled to see twice as many stars as she had by the fire. She spotted Jupiter with its yellowish glow again, and looked around for other planets. The astronomy website she often visited had said that Venus and Saturn could be seen somewhere in the west at this time of year.
As she stepped closer to the river, her eyes fell on the rushing water and she made a mental note to not fall in. It was then that she heard her name whispered from the shadows. Knowing that she was completely alone, this startled her and she lost her footing and fell, splashing into the icy water.
INFORMALITY
"Is not general incivility the very essence of love?"
~Elizabeth Bennet, Pride & Prejudice
A million slivers of glass pierced Beth all over, pricking each of her nerve endings. The bone-coldness spread through her as if the shards of glass were embedding in her skin. She had just gone completely under the water when two arms grasped her shoulders, drawing her out. William set her on the river bank and peeled off his sweatshirt, then put it around her shoulders.
"Do you have a death wish or something?" He chided accusingly, though his voice was thick with alarm.
"Excuse m-me? W-w-what were you d-doing out here? S-s-spying on me? You prac-practically pushed me in-n! And it's my f-f-fault?"
William scowled. "Well, you just shouldn't be out here alone, that's all. That's the bottom line. And who walks next to a river in the dark anyway?"
"Oh, g-give it a rest-t-t Will-will-iam." She wanted to say, 'I'm not interested in another one of your lectures on personal safety,' but she couldn't get the stuttering under control. Wrapping her arms around herself to control the shaking, she said, "C-c-could ask what you w-w-were doing by the r-r-river in th-the d-dark!"
When she looked at him expectantly through her seizing, he just glared back in silence. Another gust of wind rushed through her already chilled body, turning her shuddering into convulsions. William's hard expression broke, and he draped a guiding arm around her back, cupping her shoulder as they made their way back through the cold night.
By the time William and Beth hobbled into camp, the wind was howling through the trees and the fire had gone out. The tents may have blown away had it not been for the weight of their occupants. As all was dark and quiet, Beth guessed that everyone had fallen asleep. She still shivered violently from the walk back, but she knew that without William's warmth it would have been much worse. Suddenly, she wondered what she would wear to sleep in - the jeans and t-shirt she had worn into camp? She wasn't even sure where they were anymore; probably still hanging on the tree and soaking wet. Beth tried to articulate her thoughts to William, but her convulsions were worse now, and she could not get the words out.
William unzipped the tent and guided her inside. She felt her clothes being peeled off, and tried to protest, but only bit her tongue in the attempt. Once her t-shirt and sweats were off, she was colder for a moment. Then a familiar-smelling shirt was pulled over her head, followed up with a flannel blanket being wrapped tightly around her. Deftly, William deposited her in the sleeping bag and zipped it up.
The cold hadn't melted away completely. It reached underneath Beth's skin, freezing her veins with its ruthless fingers. Her teeth chattered, and though she knew William could hear it, she couldn't stop.
The zzzzzttttt of a zipper broke the silence and a moment later, William slid in next to her.
"I'm f-f-fine." The stuttering wouldn't do much to support her argument, but she couldn't help it.
"You need body heat. Unless your extremities aren't that dear to you?"
Beth didn't answer.
"Quit making such a big deal out of it, Beth. I am completely oblivious to the fact that you are lying here in your underwear. And my t-shirt….again."
Beth noted the sardonic tone of his voice. She tried to say "I hate you" but it came out as a garbled "I---you" and she gave up.
William peeled the blanket down to Beth's waist and pressed his hands into the small of her back. When he drew her into the circle of his arms, she pressed her cheek to his chest and tried to stop shaking. She could feel the heat through his t-shirt against her face and chest. A strong sense of déjà-vu washed over her, but (as with most déjà-vu's) she couldn't pinpoint its origin.
Half an hour later, Beth had finally stopped shivering, and her teeth had stopped clanging together. Her hair was still damp, but this was as thawed-out as she would get tonight. The wind's tantrum raged on outside, and Beth wondered if their tent would be in the same place by morning.
William brought her hands up and sandwiched them between his chest and his free hand. Now that she was a little more coherent, she realized that he actually wasn't wearing a shirt at all. She considered how this would look if Les or Jenna happened to wake up and look over. Beth, garbed in William's t-shirt and blanket and William, nude from the waist up with his arms around her; and the two of them zipped tightly together in a sleeping bag.
Beth freed one of her hands to move a clump of wet hair off of her neck, and William lifted his head slightly to look at her.
"Are you warm enough?" His voice was gentle, almost a whisper.
"I'm fine." Beth paused, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was half naked, but still being unable to help herself. "Aren't you cold?"
He chuckled softly. "No. I'm always warm." After a pause where he seemed to be considering saying more, he added, "My sister says I'm a heater."
"Are the two of you pretty close?"
"Yeah." Beth sensed something brooding behind the word. He was definitely protective; but there was something more. Something that saddened him. When he didn't elaborate, Beth decided it was also something he didn't want to talk about.
"So…….where'd you learn to sing like……that?" It sounded awkward, as if William were asking Beth where she bought her underwear - which, by the way, he had now seen with his own eyes.
"Like what?" Given his reaction after the song, she wasn't sure what he meant by 'that.'
"I mean……" he struggled to articulate. "Who taught you how to sing?"
"Oh. I don't know. I haven't had voice lessons or anything, if that's what you mean. My dad used to sing to me - he used to play that song and read me a book that went along with it. I don't really remember when I started singing." She still wasn't sure she had answered his question.
"What about guitar?"
"I've been taking lessons for almost two years. I'm still a beginner, but I'm sure you already came to that conclusion."
"Why do you say that?" The awkwardness had drained out of his voice, leaving only raw curiosity.
"The fact that you ran away as fast as your hiking boots could carry you speaks for itself."
He paused for a moment and then asked quietly, "Did I hurt your feelings, Beth?"
Almost a minute passed before she answered.
"No, just my pride." There couldn't be any harm in admitting this, when she was already as abased as possible in her present circumstances. She took her hands off of his chest and curled them against herself.
William sat up on one elbow and looked down at her. She couldn't exactly see his face, but she could make out the slope of his shoulders against the fabric of the tent, adequately muscled. Fiercely glad that he couldn't see her blush in the dark, Beth turned her face away, embarrassed. The wind had stopped, and a light, steady rain began falling. William drew breath and exhaled slowly before laying his hand on her cheek and turning her face to his.
"I'm not very good at expressing myself. But, I liked your song." He paused and added, "A lot."
His hand was still on her face, and it felt as though her cheek were catching fire under his
touch. Removing his hand with hers, she sat up and tucked wet hair behind her ear.
"Then why did you walk away like that?" She tried to keep the accusation out of her whisper, but it came out more like a hiss.
"Come on, Beth. You've got more brains than the average co-ed. Can't you guess?" There was a vague allusion to humor in his voice.
Had he just called her smart? "Not really. I'm tired of trying to figure you out."
William sat up and rested one muscular arm on his jean-clad knee, pivoting his upper torso toward her. "You've been trying to figure me out?" He sounded like a kid who had just been told that his Christmas presents were purchased and safely hidden close by.
Beth's breath puffed out in frustration. "Everything is just a game to you, isn't it? The whole world is at your disposal. The whole human race exists for your amusement. THE WHOLE -"
Her escalation was cut short when William took her face in his hands and planted his mouth on hers in a firm, lingering kiss. His mouth was soft and warm on her frozen lips, and it reminded her of drinking hot chocolate after a snow day.
When he pulled away, their faces were close enough that she could see his dark eyes against the lighter palate of his skin. His hands still clutched the sides of her face.
"Shut up," he murmured, his voice ever so slightly unsteady. "You'll wake the whole camp. And where would that get us?"
He kissed her again, just once. Then he pulled away reluctantly, his hands skimming down her arms as they fell away from her face.
Beth scowled in the darkness, dropping her eyes. Her heart hammered stubbornly and she shuddered - an external display of her inner tumult.
"You're shivering again," William observed, applying gentle pressure to her shoulders and sliding her back into her bag. He wordlessly pulled it up around her chin and zipped her in securely. Then, to her increased confusion, he rolled over onto his own blanket sandwich and pulled on his shirt. His silhouette scooted down into his blankets, then fell quiet.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked again, and Beth wondered if she had imagined everything in the interim. He sounded as if he were miles away now, cold and detached.
"Fine," she answered quietly, feeling baffled. Whatever she might have expected after he kissed her like that, it wasn't this. Why had he kissed her anyway? It wasn't the same as the sympathy cheek-brush she had administered to him the other day. Maybe he just wanted to one-up her again.
Beth twisted onto her side, as if turning away from him would punish him somehow for his insufferable unpredictability. She felt a slight headache coming on as she replayed the night's events in her mind. A trail of fire blazed obstinately across her lips, all traces of ice melted away with his kiss. So, it couldn't have been a hallucination.
In the end she decided he must be a very talented actor, and that his personal quest was to get under her skin, just to prove that he could. If he thought that he'd accomplished this, he was wrong.
Dead wrong.
When Beth finally fell asleep, it was to the sound of her own voice in her head - reassuring herself of that very fact.
FRUITLESS
"He is so very much preoccupied by the idea of not being in love with her, that I should not wonder if it were to end in his being so at last."
~Jane Austen's Juvenilia
William opened his eyes briefly and then burrowed into his pillow to block out the light. In the cool pouch of darkness created between the pillow and his eyelids he could see only one thing; Beth's dark eyes, Beth's dark hair, Beth lying in his arms in the darkness, Beth's soft-frozen lips under his. He had wanted so badly to pull her back into his arms and keep her there all night. If he hadn't slipped up and kissed her, it might have been possible. But he knew that after losing that particular bit of control he would spend the rest of the night scolding himself into making sure it didn't happen again, while wanting nothing else. Or worse - taking it too far.
There was no valid excuse for his behavior - other than not being able to hold back any longer. And he had badly wanted to prove himself wrong - prove that he could unsettle her and remain unaffected himself, that she had no power over him, and that it was all in his head. But his brilliant plan had backfired. He had been infatuated before. This was something else entirely.
He blinked his eyes open again and trained them on Beth, sleeping soundly, twisted halfway on her back and halfway on her side. One arm was thrown up carelessly by her face, the other lay loosely at her side. Her dark hair tangled across the pillow, and her breathing was slow and even. The dark green of his t-shirt threw her pale skin into sharp relief. Whatever make up she may have been wearing days ago had long since gone, but her dark, feathery lashes lay innocently against her creamy skin.
Could she possibly be ignorant of the effect she had on him?
William decided that an early-morning swim in ice water might just do him some good, and he left the tent without delay.
~:~
Beth woke slowly, an uneasy feeling chasing her into consciousness. She'd had this sensation enough in the past few weeks to know its source. Of course, she had dreamt about William last night. She couldn't remember the precise circumstances - mostly the tenor of the dream. His eyes had been gentle yet intense, and his touch had been fiery on her bare skin. During the dream he had smiled and teased her, and she hadn't minded so much. But then she watched his fiery eyes cool to a flat black. He dropped her in the river, watching with morbid delight as she was pulled under and icy black water filled her lungs.
Reliving the dream in consciousness made her feel nauseous. Her head throbbed, and she decided she had been lying down too long. She reached down toward the foot of her sleeping bag and thankfully found the dry jeans and t-shirt she had worn the first day. Disentangling herself from William's t-shirt and tossing it on his bedroll, she dressed in her own rain-stiffened clothing. Then she smoothed her hair into the best ponytail she could manage, wishing for a mirror and amusing herself with images of a pop-up vanity in Kara and Lucy's palace-tent.
As she stepped out of the tent, the sounds of bustling met her. Camp was being packed up. She heard an unfamiliar voice and looked up to see Les standing next to someone in jeans and a navy blue fleece zip-up. Bright yellow lettering boldly spelled out RESCUE SQUAD across his chest. Beth was surprised that she recognized the face belonging to the voice. Her younger sister Lindy had gone out with him a couple of times back home.
"Denny?"
"Beth Pride? No freaking way!"
Denny picked Beth up in an enthusiastic hug.
"Isn't it illegal to impersonate an authority figure?" Beth smiled at him as he set her back on her feet. "What are you doing here?"
Beth vaguely noticed Les excusing himself to finish packing.
"Well, believe it or not, I'm on the Rescue Squad." He grinned proudly but his voice held a trace of defiance, like a boy trying to reason with his older brother that he should be admitted into the clubhouse.
"I'm starting at Hartford next semester, but I'll be doing this on the side to help pay tuition."
"Good for you!" Beth smiled at him. He'd always been a good guy. What he ever saw in her sister was a conundrum.
Denny glanced at the ground. "So, how's Lindy? Isn't she a senior this year?"
"Yeah, she graduates in June."
"Well, say hi for me when you see her next."
"You can tell her yourself. She's coming to stay in December for a couple weeks to check out the campus." It was clear from his change in expression that he still had unresolved feelings for her sister.
Kara and Lucy slunk over and stood next to Beth, a pair of hungry lionesses out for fresh man meat.
"Beth, you've forgotten your manners! Aren't you going to introduce us?" Kara asked coyly, Lucy grinning stupidly next to her.
"Sorry, Denny," Beth said dully. "This is Kara Bradford and her roommate, Lucy -? Um, sorry, I don't know your last name."
"Hunter," came the giggled reply.
How appropriate, B
eth thought. "Denny, please tell me you're here with good news," she pleaded through clenched teeth. "Is the mouth of the canyon open finally?"
"That is why I came. It's all clear - you guys should be able to get back now."
"Denny, you're the best! Dinner on me, whenever you can come."
Beth grasped his hands in hers, pulling him in for what was, to her, a brotherly hug.
Apparently certain bystanders didn't behold the exchange in quite the same light. William tromped up behind Beth a few seconds earlier and scowled at Denny.
Denny extricated himself from Beth's hug, laughing. "Well, here's my number at the station; why don't you call me and we can set it up? Maybe in December, sometime."
When Denny held out his business card, William snatched it before Beth could take it.
"Did you come to tell us something relevant, Ranger Man, or just to get a date?"
Beth gaped at William with wide, disbelieving eyes. When she continued to scrutinize him, his eyes flicked to her face before blinking and looking away again obstinately. He took a few steps back and leaned against a tree with his arms folded, glowering at the card.
Beth couldn't conceal her chagrin, or her surprise. William looked positively angry, his jaw set stubbornly, his eyes fuming. Beth scowled, thoroughly confused, then shook her head and rolled her eyes, embarrassed. She had to say something; Denny was looking back and forth with a puzzled expression.
"Don't worry about him, Denny. I guess he just found out that the entire world doesn't revolve around him." She smiled at Denny and looked calmly back to William. She anticipated the look he would be wearing, a deflated, diminutive expression, but his face held none of these emotions. He stepped closer to her, their faces inches apart.
William held up the card and said quietly, "It's not the entire world I'm after."
She snatched the card from William, and he strode away soundlessly. His words hadn't reached her - only his tone - and it had bled out everything else.
Pride's Prejudice Page 7
