A Soft Kiss in Winter

by Lily Graison

  As he’d done every morning for the last week, he loved her until her limbs were weak and shaky, her throat raw from the sounds he pulled from the center of her to leave her hoarse. By the time they’d crawled out of bed, half the morning had been wasted.

  They did much of nothing with their days. They chopped wood, checked the traps Gideon had near the cabin, cooked and ate, talked about her life in Chicago and ended up back in bed, sweaty and sated before they slept and the day would start all over again. It was pure—heaven.

  It wasn’t until late one evening that she realized she spent most every day talking about herself. She propped up on one elbow and faced him, pulling the sheets up over her breasts. “What about you?”

  He was on his back, his feet crossed at the ankle, one arm bent and tucked under his head. He looked at her and said, “What about me?”

  “Well, I’ve told you everything there is to know about me, but—I know next to nothing about you. Have you always lived here in Montana? Why do you live up here alone? Do you have family other than your brother?”

  As if day bled into night in an instant, Gideon’s face turned to stone. His body tensed, his eyes grew unfocused and he was up and was out of the bed, dragging on his trousers before she could utter a word.

  She crawled from the bed when he left the room and tugged the blanket around her body. She found him in the kitchen, at the window by the stove, staring out as the sun started to sink behind the trees. “Gideon?” His back stiffened. She licked her lips, nervous butterflies filling her stomach. Something was wrong. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Your life outside these walls is none of my business.”

  He blew out a long breath. “It should be.”

  She was afraid to ask. “How so?”

  “Because I’m not the man you think I am. I can’t be trusted, Victoria. The last person who did, I killed.”

  His words were like ice water rushing through her veins. He’d killed someone who trusted him? She watched his rigid back. Surely she misunderstood. “What do you mean?”

  He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “It means exactly what you think it does, Victoria. I killed someone. They’re dead because of me.”

  He turned from the window and stalked across the room, not giving her a second glance as he walked by her and went back into the bedroom. She stared into the kitchen and listened to him in the other room, afraid to go in. The tone of his voice sounded as if he was angry and if what he said was true, not to be trusted.

  She shook the thought from her head the moment it entered. He was wrong. She trusted him with her life. Had trusted him since the day he found her on the side of the mountain alone and scared.

  Gideon came out of the bedroom a moment later fully dressed. He snatched his coat from the chair and hurried outside, slamming the door in his wake. Victoria chewed her bottom lip, the entire week playing over in her head. The fact he hadn’t offered her any information about his life should have told her something was wrong. Now she knew she should have never asked. The fact he seemed so angry now is telling. His life is none of her business. Regardless of what they’d shared, it was obvious it meant far less to him than it did to her. The realization made her chest ache, her heart clenching so tight it caused a physical pain. She pressed a fist between her breasts and willed the tears burning the back of her eyes away.

  Was she destined to lose every man she loved?

  The question was a soft whisper inside her head and the smile curving her lips was weak at best. After all she’d been through, the fear she’d lived with for so long was gone and, she knew without a doubt it was because of Gideon. He’d turned her despair into hope and she’d fallen in love with him in the process. Had it all been for nothing? Had losing Thomas to only find Gideon and have him turn her away fate’s way of mocking her? Was she destined to be hurt time after time and never find happiness?

  The sound of the ax hitting wood filled the silence. She listened for a few minutes before crossing the room and looking out the window. He’d taken off his coat and was chopping wood as if possessed, his face set in a cold, angry mask. What was wrong? Why did he turn away from her? What about her question was so upsetting?

  She watched him for several minutes before dressing. The inside of her boots was damp but she ignored it and went back to the window. Gideon was still there, the ax swung with enough force the logs were splitting with one swing. His face was red, his teeth clenched so tight she could see the muscle bulge in his jaw. Grabbing her cloak she went outside, approaching him cautiously, and stood far enough away she wouldn’t be hit with the wood as he tossed it aside. Long minutes passed and he never acknowledged she was there, just kept swinging the ax as if some force compelled him to do it.

  “Gideon?” He never paused or looked her way. “Will you talk to me, please?” He said nothing. “I don’t understand what’s wrong.” She got nothing but silence in return. She sighed. “Answer me, please.” His face grew redder by the second. “Gideon?”

  “What, Victoria!” He stopped, the ax head slamming into the block of wood as he flashed a hard look her way. “What is it you possibly don’t understand about what I said?”

  She jumped, startled at his tone. Her heart started pounding. For the first time since she crawled out of that wagon and followed him, the fear she’d lived with for so long slowly took root again. The knot of anxiety she’d struggled to let go of twisted her insides until the pain in her chest moved to her stomach.

  He turned toward her, the expression on his face cold. “Someone is dead because of me. I’m not sure I can say it any plainer than that.”

  She swallowed to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Who was it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Blood was seeping through his shirt. He’d torn his stitches. “Yes.”

  “Like hell it does.”

  He went back to chopping wood and dismissed her as if she hadn’t even been there. She watched him in silence until the tears filling her eyes blurred her vision. She walked away but didn’t go back inside the cabin. There was little comfort to be found there, and it would only remind her of what she’d held in the grasp of her hand for one tiny second of pure happiness.

  She walked along the stream as far from the cabin as she dared and stared at the water as it trickled over the frozen rocks, Gideon’s shouted words still ringing in her ears. The tears came unbidden and she didn’t try to stop them. After the way Thomas had treated her, she decided the fault was his own, some character flaw she hadn’t seen when he swept her off her feet. But now Gideon had done the same thing. It broke her heart into so many pieces she wasn’t sure she’d ever gather them up again.

  Those tears turned into harsh sobs and she wrapped her arms around her waist and let them come. Her mind was a flood of memories, every moment she’d shared with Gideon since he found her filling her head. The tender feelings she had for him had grown until he consumed her, her heart filling with so much love it ached at times. But he’d crushed her joy and thrown it back in her face. And for what?

  She cried until her body felt numb, drained of energy, and her feet nearly frozen from standing in the snow so long in her worthless boots, but the thought of going back to the cabin held little appeal.

  Gideon had stopped chopping wood, the forest now silent. She stared at nothing in particular and noticed what looked like smoke rising from the trees not far from where she stood. She wiped her cheeks dry and stared at it. Was it smoke? The scent of woodsmoke filled the air but the cabin’s fireplace was never cold. The smell could be coming from that but as she stood there and inhaled a deep breath, the scent smelled stronger. Was there someone out there? Was that the way to the trail off the mountain?

  Shadows elongated, casting her in shade, the temperature dropping as she watched the line of what looked like smoke climb into the air. Should she mention it to Gideon? She turned and looked at the cabin. He would either ignore her or tell her it was nothing
.

  Thinking of him caused pain to squeezed her chest again. The ache was dull and lingered until she felt drained. Her fingers were as cold as her feet now. She turned and started for the cabin and went inside. Gideon was in one of the chairs facing the fireplace. He never moved when she shut the door behind her.

  She removed her cloak and hung it on one of the nails hammered into the wall by the door. “Are you hungry?” she asked. He didn’t answer. She crossed to the stove. The roasted rabbit and vegetables they’d made earlier was still warm but his silence, and the tension in the room, made it look less appetizing by the second. She moved it to the side so it wouldn’t dry out and crossed to the bedroom, pausing inside the doorway to look at him. He was staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace, his jaw locked tight.

  Closing the door, she stared at the rumpled bed sheets. How had they gone from rolling around in the bed together, kissing, laughing, and loving one another, to not even speaking? The misery trying to consume her filled every inch of her soul. Her thoughts upon waking were of getting a message to her parents and telling them she was happy and was staying here with Gideon. But that would never happen now. Gideon wouldn’t even look at her and she was almost certain he didn’t want to keep her forever.

  He was a jackass.

  He’d been told more than once by Graham he was and always thought that title fit his brother more than himself. Now, he knew Graham had been right. He really was a jackass.

  Slumping down in the chair had been a mistake. He could see Victoria through the flames in the fireplace as she sat in the bedroom. She’d been in there for half an hour now and hadn’t moved since she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her back was to him, her head downcast, shoulders slumped and every time she raised her hand to her face—to wipe tears from her cheeks, he imagined—the dagger of pain in his heart dug a little bit deeper.

  Jackass wasn’t a strong enough word. He was a complete, utter worthless excuse for a human. He’d hurt the only person he’d wanted to be near in over six years. The only person he cared about other than Graham. As much as losing Nora had hurt, watching Victoria cry because of him felt like a fist to the throat. He found it hard to breathe, the ache in his chest consuming and he wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  He looked away but he could still see her in his mind’s eye and knew he’d never get that defeated look on her face out of his head, nor the fear that filled her eyes when he’d yelled at her, the crestfallen look that turned her lovely features into a sad, broken mask. How did things go so wrong? How had he gone from a state of such complete, contented bliss to mucking it up so badly they were both miserable?

  Because you’re a jackass.

  All she’d done was ask about his life. No more than he’d been asking of her. She’d not held anything back even though he knew some of it had been painful to tell. He saw it in her eyes too many times to dismiss it, yet she didn’t lash out at him or treat him any differently because of it. She’d given him nothing but truth and he’d tossed it away as if it meant nothing, all because she’d wanted to know more about him. Because she’d cared and been interested in him enough to ask. How could he have been so stupid?

  Because you’re a jackass.

  He sighed, scrubbed a hand over his face and stood and crossed to the closed bedroom door, bracing his hands on the doorframe. He debated opening it and begging Victoria to forgive him before crawling into bed with her and forgetting the entire day happened but she would want to know why he’d reacted the way he had, and just thinking about Nora brought back all the guilt and pain.

  His shame.

  Maybe it was time to tell someone the whole of it. If someone else knew what he’d done, maybe he could get past it. He’d kept bits and pieces of the story from Graham just so he wouldn’t hate him as much as he hated himself but those lies were still eating away at him all these years later. And he’d taken the anger and self-loathing he felt out on Victoria.

  Her face filled his mind’s eye and he laid his forehead against the wooden door. Would she let him in if he begged her for forgiveness? Would she ever look at him with shining eyes that made him think she cared for him much deeper than anyone else ever had? Would he ever see anyone look at him again with as much love shining in their eyes as Victoria’s did?

  Probably not.

  If he were a betting man, he’d say he’d lost any and all chances of fixing this mess and now he’d have to live with the consequences of how he’d treated her in much the same way as he’d been living with what he’d done to Nora—exiled, shamed, and completely alone.

  Chapter 16

  It was snowing again. Victoria blinked against the light and stared out the bedroom window with thoughts of Gideon filling every corner of her mind. When her bladder ached to the point she could no longer ignore it, she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

  Her skirt was wrinkled beyond repair. She tried to straighten the material without much luck. Sleeping in her dress hadn’t been a great idea. Neither was crying over things she couldn’t change. Now her eyes itched as if filled with sand and her body felt so fatigued it was as if she hadn’t slept at all.

  Sitting her boots by the fireplace the night before had helped dry them out but just barely. She slipped them on and and spent long minutes brushing out her tangled hair, then braided it, taking the time to pin it at her nape. She made the bed, tidied up the small room and when there was nothing else for her to do, she sighed. She couldn’t stay in here all day and started for the door, dreading every step she took to reach it. She’d spent half the night crying after the way Gideon had treated her the evening before and seeing those hateful looks from him again this morning would be too much to bear.

  Opening the door, she kept her head down as she walked into the other room. Gideon was by the stove but didn’t look her way. The scent of coffee filled the air and she’d never needed the rush the strong brew gave her more than today.

  She grabbed her cloak and slipped it on, then reached for the doorknob. She hurried outside but took her time walking up the slight hill to the outhouse. If it weren’t so cold, she’d stay outside a while longer. The thought of going back into the silence that filled the cabin since yesterday drew a deep sigh.

  When she rounded the side of the porch, she saw something move on the other side of the stream and froze. It looked like an animal at first but when it crossed the stream, she realized it was a man, and he was headed toward the cabin. She ran for the front door and rushed inside, slamming it shut behind her. Gideon swung around to face her, his eyes wide. “There’s someone out there,” she said.

  The expression on his face changed in an instant. He crossed the room and grabbed his rifle, motioning to the bedroom with his head as he checked to see if the gun was loaded. “Go to the other room.” She didn’t question him, just did as he said and shut the door behind her. The sound of the cabin door opening and closing echoed through the cabin a moment later. The desire to peek out the window was strong but she didn’t dare. She had no idea who the stranger was and after the three who chased her up the mountain, she wasn’t so inclined to be friendly with just anyone.

  Thinking of those three, her heart started hammering away in her chest when she remembered two of them had gotten away. Had they followed them? Was that where the smoke she’d seen beyond the stream the evening before came from? The cabin door opened and closed again a few minutes later and the sound of voices filled the air. She chewed her bottom lip and stared at the bedroom door and jumped when someone knocked on it.

  “You can come out.”

  She hesitated before opening the door and stepping out of the room. Gideon was putting his rifle back on the hooks above the fireplace mantel and the strange man she’d seen outside was shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the nail by the door.

  When he turned her way, he smiled. “Sorry if I scared you.”

  Throwing a quick glance at Gideon she said, “That’s quite all right.” She hoped he
couldn’t tell her sentiment was fake. “I’ve not seen anyone else up here and it just took me by surprise when you crossed the stream.”

  He laughed. “Well, I thought I was seeing things myself until you ran into the cabin. You’re just as much a shock to me as I am to you.” He gave Gideon a strange look, the grin on his face growing. Gideon, however, didn’t look amused.

  “I’m Graham, by the way.” He nodded his head in Gideon’s direction. “That ones older, much more charming brother.”

  Gideon made a scoffing sound and crossed to the stove.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Graham.”

  “Likewise.” He crossed to the stove and leaned over the pot of whatever Gideon was cooking. “Smells scorched to me. You built the fire too high again, didn’t you?”

  “Shut up. It’s edible.” Gideon turned and looked at Victoria. It was the first time he’d done so since yesterday and not have a scowl on his face. “It’s still fit to eat if you’re hungry.”

  She hoped her joy at him speaking to her didn’t show on her face. “I am.”

  Before she could help grab bowls and spoons, Gideon grabbed them and dished up what looked like more stew and sat it on the table. She took the chair across from him as she always did, while Graham sat at the end. No one said much at first but when her bowl was nearly empty, Graham cleared his throat and looked her way.

  “So, Victoria, Gideon said he found you on the other side of the mountain.”

  “That’s right.” She flicked a quick glance to Gideon. He never lifted his head.

  “Well, you’re lucky he came along when he did. There’s nothing on that side but snow and trees. You would have never found your way to town from there.”

  “I know. The only reason I’m alive at the moment is because of him.” She studied Gideon’s face and waited for any sign things would go back to normal but he kept his head down, his gaze averted. The fact he’d yet to speak to her other than letting her know the food was done was telling. If his brother hadn’t been here, would he have even done that? Her heart said yes but that dull, nagging ache in her stomach said he wouldn’t have. The fear and doubt she’d tried to ignore as she lay in bed alone the night before came screaming through her head again. Whatever they’d had together was now broken and since he refused to talk to her, more than likely over. Letting his brother know more about their relationship than he did now should be Gideon’s story to tell if he cared to, so she went back to her stew and didn’t say another word or look at him again. If Gideon wanted to fix things between them, he would, but deep down, she didn’t think that would happen. He shut her out too quickly and she saw him slipping away every time she glanced at him—and saw him looking the other way.