by T. J. Quinn
Chapter Seven
Leah was covering his wound with a bandage when Zorban’s eyes flickered, and a second later, he was looking at her, with his deep blue eyes.
“What happened?” he asked, with a frown.
“We had an accident. A moose jumped in front of us, and I lost control of the truck. We ended up at the bottom of a ravine,” she explained succinctly.
“Where are we now?” he asked again, sounding confused.
“At my place.”
“How did we get here? Were you able to get the truck out of the ravine?” he asked, troubled.
“No, I wasn’t . I brought you here. You weren’t wearing the safety belt and ended up tossed out of the truck. It took me a while to find you, but fortunately, the snow softened your fall, and as far as I can tell, there are no broken bones,” she explained.
“Is this the shed you mentioned?” he asked, looking around.
“No. The shed is abandoned. I would have had a lot of trouble warming you up there, so I decided to come home instead.”
“How long did it take you to get here?”
“Does it matter?” she asked, with a deep frown. “We’re here, and we’re safe. That’s all that matters. Would you like some hot chocolate? You’re still cold,” she suggested, changing the subject.
She couldn’t explain the way she had brought him there. He would find it hard to believe.
“Cold doesn’t bother me,” he assured her, feeling the bandage around his head. “But, yes, I could use a cup of hot chocolate.”
“Very well, I’ll get it for you. Meanwhile, get some rest. That wound on your head is deep,” she advised him, as she got up to go to the kitchen.
“Weren’t you hurt during the crash?” he asked, looking at her with a slight frown, noticing her wet clothes.
“No, unlike you, I was wearing the seatbelt,” she replied in a scolding tone.
He scowled and leaned back on the pillows she had piled behind him. “Before we crashed, you were saying we were too far from here. How did you manage to get here? And where’s your truck?” She could tell he was intrigued.
Leah sighed wishing he would drop the subject. “The truck is lying at the bottom of the ravine,” she explained. “We wouldn’t have gotten here with it anyway, there was too much snow on the road. I used a sleigh I had on the truck,” she lied.
“You pushed a sleigh with me in it all the way here?” he asked, sitting on the improvised bed, in sheer shock.
“Most of the way from where we were is downhill and the sleigh slides, as you know,” she explained, sticking to the truth as much as she could. “And, since I didn’t have to follow the road, I was able to use some shortcuts.”
“Well, thank you for bringing me with you,” he finally said, but there was still a look of incredulity on his face.
“It’s not like I had much choice,” she grumbled, pulling the milk out of the freezer and the chocolate bar from the cabinet. “You shouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“I couldn’t let you come all the way here all alone,” he insisted.
She snorted. “I believe it’s clearly established I’m quite capable of taking care of myself,” she said with sarcasm.
He chuckled. “Right, but I didn’t know that then.”
She finished preparing the hot chocolate. “Would you like some marshmallows in it?” she asked, adding a small mountain in her cup.
“No, thank you.”
She handed him his cup and took a seat on the sofa next to the mattress. “I hope you didn’t have anything important to do for the next few days. The storm will keep us stranded here,” she warned him.
“I was aware of the danger, yes,” he assured her.
“I really don’t understand why you would go to such extent for a total stranger,” she muttered, taking another sip of her drink.
“No one seemed to care. You were about to face a damn storm alone, and no one was doing anything to stop you,” he grumbled.
“That’s because people in town know I’m used to this weather. I grew up here, I know this place like the palm of my hand,” she explained, finishing her drink.
He still hadn’t touched his.
“I’m sure most people at that hotel have grown up here and still I didn’t see anyone else insisting on going out against a storm this big,” he grumbled.
“Well, they don’t call me the Ice Princess for nothing, believe me,” she assured him, jumping from her chair and heading back to the kitchen.
She was aware of the nickname people called her in town. She had always known it, and the truth was it didn’t bother her. It kept people away from her, and she was happy with that.
Her life escaped the normal patterns people were used to, and she didn’t want anyone nosing around. People talked too much and tended to make rushed judgments. Not even her parents had been able to understand her so she couldn’t expect total strangers to do so.
“Why do they call you that? Because of your sculptures?” he asked, with a frown.
She sighed. “No, they have been calling me that ever since I was in school. They say I like cold way too much,” she explained with a scowl. “Have you finished that?” she asked, indicating his cup and changing the subject.
He shook his head and took the first sip from his cup. “How long have you been living here alone?” he asked, looking around.
The house looked big enough for a family to live on.
“Ever since my parents died in a storm a few years ago. They were trying to get back home when the storm surprised them and buried their car,” she explained, in a cold tone. She didn’t like to talk about it. She still blamed herself for not being there with them. If she had, they would still be alive. “When the authorities found them, it was too late.”
“You weren’t with them,” he concluded.
“No, I had stayed home. And I was sure they had stayed in town, due to the storm. Communications were cut off, so I had no way to confirm it and when the storm finally subsided, and their car was finally found, I was informed of their death.”
“It must have been hard for you,” he said, finishing his cup and handing it to her.
“Yes, it was.” She picked up the cup and headed back to the kitchen area. “You should get some rest. That wound is deep, and you were out for several hours. The storm is getting worse so I wouldn’t be able to take you to a hospital if needed,” she warned him.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m a fast healer,” he assured her. Either way, he listened to her and leaned back on the pillows again.
“This is the warmest room in the house, so it’s better if you stay here for now,” she advised him after she washed the cups and the pan, she had used to prepare the chocolate. “I have to go check on my animals, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Are you going out with the storm roaring like that?” he asked, with a troubled look.
“The barn is not far from the house, I’ll be fine. Get some rest,” she ordered, as she opened the door and left the house.
She didn’t even bother to put on a jacket, sure he wouldn’t notice it, and she was too eager to leave the house and his unsettling presence to bother with such details.
She reached the barn after struggling with the strong gusts of cold wind. Her animals were happy to see her, judging by the gabble. Smiling, she fed the chickens and the sheep as well as her two huskies. She would have loved to have them with her that afternoon, but she hadn’t thought she would stay for so long in town.
Once she was done, she checked the generator that kept the animals warm and made sure everything was alright before she returned to the house, hoping to find her guest sleeping.
Something about him made her feel strange and set her heart into a frantic rhythm. She hoped the storm would subside as fast as possible so she could call someone to come and pick him up. She wanted him out of her life as soon as possible.
But he wasn’t sleeping. He was still on the improvise
d bed, but his eyes were wide open.
Chapter Eight
Zorban returned to the bed she had made for him the moment he saw her coming out of the barn. He hadn’t met a woman like her on this planet, and that intrigued him. She walked around snow and ice as any Thalian female would, but other than the color of her hair and her obvious love for cold weather, he didn’t have any reason to suspect she was from his home planet.
On the other hand, no human female he had met in the past five years would have been able to push a sleigh through the middle of a storm for several miles as she did. There was more to her than met the eye and he needed to know what it was.
She entered the house and walked straight to the kitchen area. “Are you hungry? I’m about to prepare dinner. Do you like seafood?” she asked him taking a few things from the refrigerator.
“Whatever you prepare will be fine, thank you,” he assured her. “Don’t you think you should take off those wet clothes before you make dinner?” he asked, worried.
She looked at herself as if surprised to see her clothes wet. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she had told him she was used to low temperatures.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll take a shower first,” she admitted. “Call me if you need anything. I won’t be long.”
He nodded and watched her leave the room and go upstairs, unsure of what to think about her, but willing to find out all he could.
Feeling sticky and dirty, he decided to follow her example. Unlike what she thought, the cold temperatures had helped him heal, but he was still covered in blood and dirt.
Getting up, he went looking for another bathroom and soon he was under the cold stream of water, getting rid of the stickiness and any traces of the accident.
Feeling a lot better, he returned to the living room just in time to hear her coming down the stairs.
To avoid any question, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Leah entered the room, and after a quick glance at her guest, she started preparing a risotto her mother used to make for her on the dark days of winter. Soon the delicious scents filled the house.
“That smells great,” he said, breaking the silence and startling her.
“I thought you were sleeping,” she grumbled, adding the wine to the pan.
“No, I was just resting. Who taught you how to cook?” he asked, curious about her life.
“Mostly my father. He would have been an amazing chef if he hadn’t dedicated his life to studying wildlife at the north pole. My mother was his assistant, and they lived most of their married life out there in the open. I was born on a night like this one, and my father helped my mother to bring me to life,” she explained.
“Wasn’t that a dangerous decision? A lot of things could have gone wrong,” he asked, intrigued.
“According to my mother I came a bit early before they had time to move back into town for my birth,” she replied, shrugging. Her parents told that story so many times she had never questioned it. “Fortunately, everything went just fine, and they didn’t have to go to town. They registered my birth when I was almost two years old.”
That spiked Zorban’s curiosity. “Isn’t that a bit strange?”
“Not around here, I guess. People have other priorities,” she said, not giving it much importance.
“They spent two years without visiting the nearest town?” he asked, exposing his doubts. “You must have been an extraordinary baby if you didn’t get sick for two years.”
She frowned, as she tilted her head to look at him, still lying in bed. “I guess I was.”
“Shouldn’t you have been a priority for them? You’re an only child, right?” he asked, digging deeper, even though he could tell she wanted to drop the subject. There was something that didn’t make sense in her story, and it puzzled him.
Her frown deepened. “Yes, I’m an only child. My parents were too busy with work to worry about silly details like registering me,” she explained.
“Don’t you find that weird?” he asked, determined to get as much as he could from her, even against her will. He wanted to know her. He couldn’t understand the need, but he was able to recognize it.
She put down one of the pans on the kitchen counter a bit harder than necessary. “Perhaps, I wasn’t as important to them as their job. I was a surprise, they hadn’t planned on having children, but they did their best at raising me,” she said, in a cold tone.
“Do you take after any of your parents?” he asked, suspecting her parents had lied to her. He wasn’t sure why they would do it. Clearly, it hadn’t been to protect her feelings since they didn’t seem to care much about them. But the more she told him, the more he was convinced they had lied to her.
“No, I don’t. My father was Italian, and my mother was Inuit. They both had dark hair and tanned skin, but my mother always said I was just like my father’s mother. She was from Germany, you know, blonde, tall, blue eyes…” she replied, a bit upset, with his questions.
What the hell was the matter with this guy? Why was he asking all these questions?
“I know you’ve thought about this several times. Your story has too many holes to stick,” he pointed out.
“What are you suggesting?” she asked, turning to look at him, letting him see how angry she was.
“They were not your biological parents,” he concluded, but regretting it the moment the words came out of his mouth. He was hurting her with his conjectures, and that was the last thing he had in mind.
She let out an incredulous laugh. “And where do you think they found me? In the middle of nowhere, half frozen, and buried in the snow?”
“Yes… that’s what I think,” he said, considering it was too late to step back. The cat was out of the bag. “They must have found you somewhere out there, all alone and took you in, letting everybody think you were their daughter, despite all the inconsistencies of their story,” he said, sitting up in bed to face her.
“I believe that bump on the head affected you more than you think,” she said, shaking her head, and turning her attention to what she was doing.
Zorban cursed his big mouth in silence. He should have kept his doubts to himself.
He jumped out of bed and wrapped one of the blankets around his almost naked body before he closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to upset you, Leah,” he said in a low tone, resting his hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath his.
She shuddered under his touch, and it took her a lot of self-control to keep it together and pretend all was good. “It’s alright. You’re not the first person to doubt my parents’ story,” she admitted, taking a step back, with the excuse of stirring the rice. “But it’s insane thinking they would find a baby in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” he said, though he was more and more certain things had happened exactly like that. He shook his head, a bit frustrated. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. That cut on your head is very deep. You should be resting.”
“I’m feeling a lot better, believe me.”
“You were out for hours…”
When wounded, a Thalian’s body usually entered a self-induced sort of coma to restore themselves. He was sure the wound she described no longer existed, or at least, it wasn’t as deep as she had told him, but explaining that to her was out of the question.
“But I’m fine now, believe me,” he insisted.
“Either way, I’m almost done. If you’re really feeling better, you should get some clothes on. You’ll find some that belonged to my father in the second room to the right, upstairs,” she suggested.
“I guess you didn’t bring my bag, right?” he asked, with a scowl.
“No, I didn’t. I guess it must have fallen out of the truck because I didn’t see it anywhere around,” she replied. “But, I’m sure you’ll find something to pu
t on, amongst my father’s clothes.”
“Thank you.”
He disappeared upstairs, and she sighed relieved. Having him so close to her with barely any clothes on was affecting her more than she thought possible.
He returned a few minutes later wearing a t-shirt and some sweatpants. The outfit was clearly a couple of sizes bigger than his usual, but it wasn’t that bad.
“Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you take a seat at the table?” she suggested, turning to look at what she was doing, making an effort to focus on stirring the risotto.
“May I set the table?” he asked, standing behind her.
“Sure, you’ll find everything you’ll need in that cabinet,” she said, pointing to a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. “I have some painkillers in the first aid kit if your head is bothering you,” she informed him, noticing he had replaced the bandage for a clean one.
“I’m fine, thank you. It doesn’t hurt that much,” he assured her. “You still have your parents’ room intact. How long ago did they die?” he asked softly as he took out the plates and the cutlery.
She sighed. “They passed away a year ago. I keep telling myself it’s time to take a look at their things, but I don’t seem to find the mood for it,” she confessed.
“I guess it can be hard,” he said, setting the table.
“Yes, it is. Their death was unexpected, and it turned my life upside down,” she added.
“You still lived with them?” he asked, curious.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, I did. I tried college for a couple of years, but marine biology wasn’t my thing. My mother was quite disappointed, and for a while, I considered moving out, but my father convinced me not to,” she explained.
“You prefer sculpture,” he said, watching her serve the risotto on the plates.
“Yes… you could say that. It’s something I’m good at, and allows me to have a decent living,” she said, shrugging.
