River's Winter

by Leanne Davis

  Now, it would get dark in River’s End at just past four p.m. The nights were so long and filled with darkness. There were a few streetlights. Only the bravest people faced the cold to walk outside so she heard a minimum of noises. The cold and darkness were new to her, so she’d been struggling somewhat already, but now she felt incapacitated.

  She pressed her head against the window. In the blink of a few moments, her sense of safety and having a long life had been turned upside-down. Her belief in herself and the person she hoped to be also vanished. How could she stay here now? But where could she go? How could she handle this without falling apart and allowing it to defeat her whole sense of purpose? When could she sleep again? When would her thoughts cease jumping between terror and unreasonable what-ifs?

  She combed her fingers through her hair. It felt dirty. She hadn’t washed it since the nurse helped her do it at the hospital. She had to now because it felt greasy and itchy. She wasn’t used to having it so unkempt. Her skin and clothes were ripe, too. Everything but the damn cast on her foot. She’d already taken care of that.

  She lacked the wherewithal, however, to attend to anything else.

  Crying again, she flopped down on the floor and cradled her head in her hands. She cried for a short while until she was startled by a pair of hands on her shoulders and a body squatting down beside her. She sniffled and blinked through her wet tears. Jacob. Her blurred vision barely made out his body crouching beside her. He was wearing a black sweater and jeans. He pulled her against him, letting her head rest on the middle of his chest, just below his collarbone. His hands tugged her closer, and she let him hold her tightly against him. Shutting her eyes, she buried her face in the softly knitted sweater and lifted her hands to grasp his biceps. She turned over to curl up into his welcome strength and body heat. Most of all, she was grateful for his presence. Just his being there to help her was enough. All the food and everything else was irrelevant; he was coming by after work every day just to check on her. He kept his job and seemed to be functioning fine while Luna could only huddle on the floor crying. Her obsession with the cafe and the tortuous nightmares loomed over her. She needed to face the music eventually, but right now she couldn’t even get a shower.

  She sobbed against his hard chest and he didn’t shush her. He didn’t recite the usual banalities either, like telling her to quiet down because everything would be okay. He didn’t talk at all. He just let her cry and cry and cry. He used his hands to massage her back and rubbed her hair and shoulders. It was a platonic gesture, full of caring and warmth. His touch was a nonverbal affirmation of her pain and confusion.

  When she exhausted herself and had no more tears or even the strength to cry, she lay against his chest. She was so quiet and worn out from the endless crying. Her red eyes and nose made her look swollen, and she ached in her heart as much as her legs. Her mind was a potpourri of terror, combined with ragged emotions and heartfelt compassion.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “No. Don’t you dare apologize. Don’t you think I feel the same way? Just looking out the window… at that.” His hand waved toward her view from the window.

  “Yes, at that,” she said, turning her head toward his hand to glimpse the café. She quickly shut her eyes and buried her face against him again.

  “I’m so tired… I can’t sleep or eat… I can’t even shower. My foot hurts all the time and—”

  “It hurts?” he repeated with concern. His deep tone revealed his caring, and his hands were more gentle as they stroked her head.

  She nodded against him. “Yes. I just hurt all over.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? I mean, I know how bad… but not that your foot was in pain.”

  She lifted her head up just enough for her watery eyes to meet his. “I’m a mess. Weak. Pathetic.” She smiled just enough to let him know she was teasing.

  “You’re falling apart. Unable to function on a daily basis.”

  “But you manage to. I feel weak and soft and I hate that. I abhor Lester fuckhead-murdering-worm Zandinsky. He had the gall to make me fall apart.”

  “You’re the only thing that keeps me functioning. Don’t you see that? I can postpone my own pain by focusing on yours. Don’t ever think you are weak. You’re just coping. Same as I am. Have you been taking the pain killers and elevating your foot?”

  “Not really, not regularly.”

  “You need to start doing that then. And take a damn sleeping pill. You need to rest and if that’s the only way you can do it, start taking them. The pain is real, both your damn broken foot and the flashbacks and trauma of witnessing eight murders.”

  “Witness to murder,” she repeated as she shuddered. “That really happened. We saw the violent deaths of eight innocent people.”

  “Yes, we really did.” His voice lowered as he slowly started to rise while his hands gripped her. He pulled her up with him and held her weight as easily as she would have held a three-year-old child. She avoided putting any weight on her foot. “Are you sure there is no one you’d like to call?”

  “They already know, and they asked if they should come here to visit me, but I said no. They won’t make it any easier for me.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry about that. They asked if they should come here? Your parents, right?”

  “Yeah, my parents. They asked me if they should come, not when. They tried to insist they would come at once and argued with me when I hedged about it. They weren’t panicked; they just wanted to get me to say I was okay, like most parents. They were a little mad that I hadn’t called them before they heard my name on the news, but they shrugged it off pretty quickly.”

  “What about your broken foot? I would think that would convince them that you actually need some help?”

  “Nope. No talk about that. It rates pretty low on the drama chart, especially when you compare it to the disarming of a mass shooter, right?”

  “My mom would have moved in to give me her support right now, she’s so freaked out. Dad wanted to also. I’m sorry, really.”

  “That’s okay, I’m used to it.”

  He stared at her. “That’s pretty sad. But come on now, let’s get you into the bathroom.”

  Alarmed, she stared up at him, putting a kink in her neck. He was so tall. “What?”

  His smile was slightly crooked. “Let’s wash your hair. I can help you do that right now.”

  “You’re going to wash my hair?”

  “I’m confident I can manage it. Come on, Luna. You need to start somewhere.”

  She rubbed her itchy head as they discussed it. Her dirty, greasy hair was snarled and disheveled. “You’ve noticed, I presume.”

  He smiled down at her gently and patted her head as he stroked her long hair. “I’ve noticed but not for one second did I judge you or care about it.”

  She blinked, and a lightning bolt of attraction shot through her insides. How could that happen? How could she feel sexual attraction now? Not only was it highly inappropriate, it was downright crazy. He found her this evening in a dirty little ball, crying, incapable, and incomprehensible on the living room floor. He remembered her crawling and crying and covered in blood. Maybe they shared a huge connection, but it surely wasn’t sexual attraction or the start of something deeper either. The trauma hadn’t dissolved yet and she was merely coping with it. She had to remember that. Her head space was too confused and fucked up by the recent ordeal.

  That was her only conclusion.

  She nodded, and Jacob held her elbow to help her hobble toward her small bathroom. She flopped down onto the closed toilet lid and shook her head, staring down at her sweatpants and sweatshirt and touching her nasty hair. Yeah, super hot looker here. Dirty and disgruntled, she rubbed her tired eyes. It was a small, closet-sized bathroom so Jacob was right there. He reached across the tub and jerked the faucet on, waiting silently for it to warm up. He put the plug in and the water started to fill the tub.

  He turn
ed and let his gaze drift up her torso and to her face. She felt her skin flushing. She tried to shake the inappropriate, but strong, reaction she was having to his close proximity.

  “You’re not going to bathe me,” she announced breathlessly.

  His golden-flecked eyes stared into hers, and his lips slid into a long, slow smile. “Hair, Luna. Remember, I said I would only wash your hair. Now, lean over the tub, and let your hair fall into the water. I’ll help you wash it.”

  She blushed again. “Oh.” Sliding forward on her knees, she waited for Jacob to scoot back to make room for her. She adjusted her cast until it was comfortably out of the way. Leaning over the lip of the tub, her mass of thick, dark hair fell into the hot water.

  Jacob leaned over, using his big hands to saturate her hair with more water. Luna sighed audibly, reveling in his soft ministrations. Hot water soothed her itchy scalp. She all but purred and moaned as his strong fingertips massaged the shampoo into a lather. The spray of hot water rolled down her scalp and hair strands as he gathered all of it up into his hand and squeezed out the suds. Resting for a moment, his hand felt warm and heavy on her head. An unfamiliar pull in her stomach was her initial response. Her head was down, and she was staring at her bath mat and knees. But the tension in the bathroom was so tangible, she was glad she wasn’t facing him. He let go of her wet hair and rose up, returning a second later with a thick towel. Luna groped around, taking the towel and wrapping it around her huge pile of hair like a turban before twisting it and flipping her head back. She was still kneeling, and Jacob was standing right beside her. Her face was at eye level with his crotch, which was just stupid and way too close.

  He tried to step back, and Luna assumed he had the same thought as she did just then. But he bumped into the towel bar and shouted an obscenity, rubbing his hip where he made contact. She couldn’t help but crack up at his reaction and then she burst out laughing. Jacob eventually joined her as he leaned forward and held her elbows in his hands to lift her up. She went from a kneeling position to suddenly seeing right into his eyes. She was directly in front of him and she responded by gulping hard when a lump lodged in her throat. “Um... this was… sort of strange.”

  “Strange? Yeah. New for me too.”

  “You know, I can manage to get myself around even when you aren’t here.”

  “I know that. But doing things on your own is always harder. So, let me help.”

  “And this was your way of helping me?”

  “Of course, isn’t it?” His gaze caught hers. “Doesn’t your hair smell clean?”

  She burst out laughing. “Touché. It does.”

  Less than a foot of space was between them. Luna held her breath and just stared up at him. “I should try to do it myself, but I haven’t had the motivation. Can you fix that too?”

  “Depression? Debilitating grief? No, I can’t. I can only promise to be here to support you.”

  She studied him. “But why? Why would you be so kind to me?”

  “Because I’ve felt the way you do many times before. And let’s not forget that I was there, too, so I empathize with you. You’re still in shock.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  His shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone’s different, I guess. It’s not any indicator of your toughness. Believe me. I haven’t led a very healthy life until now, at least according to most people’s standards. I had to learn how to cope with life in general. And I’m doing much better now. Kind of ironic. I can tell just by seeing your house and your business that you’re doing so much better at coping with life’s obstacles than I am. So why don’t you forgive yourself a tad and let up on the guilt? If this is punching you down still, let it do that. It’s allowed and expected. You should know that already.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Let me just be your friend. I sure could use one, and lately, the only friend I can stand to be around is you.”

  Luna hung her head in weary embarrassment. “That’s just it. I can’t, not for the life of me, figure out why you feel that way.”

  He lifted her chin up and allowed her gaze to meet his. “You need to get some uninterrupted sleep. We solved your hair dilemma, now let’s solve the sleep deprivation.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t.”

  Dropping his hand from her face, he took hers. “Let’s just try.”

  Letting him pull her forward, they headed toward her bed, and she used his arm as a crutch. He set her on the bedside, and she flopped down as if she’d just finished running a marathon. It couldn’t have been more than twenty steps. Jacob went into the living room. She heard the faucet running before he came back in and handed her a pill and glass of water. “I bought you some sleeping pills. Take one. They won’t hurt you. But sleep deprivation will. You can’t begin to heal your body without any rest. One or two tablets will provide some relief, enough to clear your head. You can’t deal with the pain in your foot as well as your emotional pain without sleep. Think of it as an escape. You can put all the bad memories away for a moment. Why don’t you forgive yourself for needing rest?”

  She stared at the little pill in his palm. “Is this why you asked me what medication I’m on?”

  “Yeah. But since you’re taking nothing stronger than aspirin, this could help you.”

  She accepted the pill and swallowed it with the glass of water he offered her, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

  Her room felt a little gloomy. The drapes were drawn. Her bed was unmade, and the floor was cluttered with clothes tossed about wherever she dropped them, which was so unlike her former self. She shook her head to clear the fogginess, but the worst part was the apathy. It was impossible to freaking care anymore.

  The mattress dipped behind her. Alarmed, she emerged from her zoned-out ennui and whipped around. Jacob was still wearing a sweater and jeans, but he was getting into her bed. He was all stretched out on the opposite side of her. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t look so alarmed. I’m not trying to take advantage of you. You’re not feeling well right now, and besides, I wouldn’t… I was just going to lie here with you and try to help you relax. What do you think? I’ll leave as soon as you fall asleep.”

  “You’re assuming I will.”

  There was a small smile. “Well, we changed things up, didn’t we? Clean hair and all? Maybe that’s all you needed.”

  A faint ripple of nerves churned through her insides. Then a burst of warm feelings circulated through her. What happened to all the shock and tears? Yeah, finally she felt something new.

  Friend. Jacob Starr wanted only to be her friend. A harmless, caring friend tending to her personal needs in order to avoid facing his own problems, right? At least, that was his story. How could she trust him? She shook her head. No. Trusting friends was an impossible goal right now. She didn’t need to relive that realization today, not with what she had to deal with already. It was even worse than what brought her to River’s End in the first place.

  Friends. They were the ones who fucking her pushed her to come here.

  Chapter Ten

  LUNA EVENTUALLY LEANED BACK onto her pillow, turning over on her side, and toward her nightstand. She refused to face the six-foot-plus, built, dimpled, blond, young man in her bed beside her. She pulled her legs up and made a few adjustments to get her cast in a tolerable position. Leaning forward, she snagged the end of a blanket, tugging on it to bring it toward her. She let go and put her hands under chin. Her body was stiff as she moved away from the warm man behind her. Then he scooted closer. Her eyelids flipped open, and she narrowly avoided panicking. Closer. He was coming closer before he slid his arms under her shoulders and around the front of her. They were so long, they surrounded her as he hugged her closer. There was nothing tight or lecherous about it. On the contrary. It was very comforting.

  He was still with no fidgeting or straining muscles. She slowly started to relax. It had been so long since she’d been this close to a man, let alone in bed. She closed her
eyes and let the presence of his warm body cut through the icy terror that pumped through her veins.

  He was right. His presence relaxed her. Being there helped immensely. She yanked the towel off her head and let her damp, heavy hair fall to her pillow. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her muscles unwound as a heaviness started to weigh her limbs down. Even the dull, endless throbbing of her leg started to recede from conscience thought.

  “Jacob?”

  “Yeah?” His voice was gravelly and low, right beside her ear. He shared a pillow with her, which created goosebumps down his arms.

  “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  His laugh hissed into her ear, so soft and close. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “Well then, tell me something. Distract me. Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

  “Ahh, hell, no one wants to hear my story.”

  She waited a pause. “What if I said I do?”

  He sighed. “Let’s see… it has to be true?”

  “Yes, and one no one else knows.”

  He blew out a breath, which tickled her cheek and hair. “My parents divorced when I was twelve. My dad had an affair with a young, blonde personal trainer named Trinity—”

  “Dear God, did he write the book on mid-life crisis? How clichéd.”

  “Kind of. But they still managed to make it work, and they ended up getting married. Mom dated and later married Joey. I spent my time between both parents equally. But when Mom moved here, I was home much more often with my dad. I… I also spent a lot of time with my stepmom. She wasn’t even thirty yet and she was hot and always around…”

  “Oh, no. You didn’t…”

  He held her tighter. “Do you want me to finish the story?”

  “Okay, I’ll be quiet. So, what happened?”

  “I got angry at my dad. It didn’t make any sense. I had the raging, inappropriate crush, but I punished my dad for it. I kept wondering what might have happened if he hadn’t married her and I still can’t quite get my head around what I felt about it. But anyway, one summer, Dad was working more often than he should have, which was one of my mom’s complaints for years. His habit was to immerse himself, and ultimately lose himself, in his job. He often traveled on business. He started doing that more often. And Trinity and I were alone, kind of playing house so I let it go to my head. So did she.”