Chapter the Seventh -- An Oddness
Well I remember, I remember don't worry
How could I ever forget,
it's the first time, the last time we ever met
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up,
no you don't fool me
The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows
It's no stranger to you or me
Phil Collins - In The Air Tonight
Chapter 7 -- Weird Weather
Later that night, a rumble of thunder woke Mara. Her eyes sprang open and she looked around the dark bedroom, thinking she had dreamed it. A flash of lightning told her otherwise, followed by another distant rumble.
She stood up and went to the chair next to the window to retrieve her night robe, a warm, flannel plaid garment she had had for years. It was a bit more than plaid at this point, as whenever it wore through, whether on the elbow or shoulders, or the flannel had just worn thin, she would patch it with whatever cloth was handy.
Mara had been meaning to learn the art of quilt making, so she had been stashing worn out clothing for several years in anticipation of that. The closest she seemed to get to it was to make a quiltwork out of her old flannel robe.
She tied the belt around her waist and tip toed downstairs where she could watch the storm from the picture window in the living room. Facing south, that window would provide the most spectacular, nearly 180 degree view of any storm in the area. She opened the drapes and sat down in the chair Rafe had occupied earlier, which faced the huge window.
While thunder in March was unusual, it wasn't unheard of. Usually though, it meant there would probably be a blizzard, or at least a nice, annoying fall of freezing rain turning the roads to black ice.
Which meant for a fun trip into town. Mara sighed. She loathed driving on slick roads, but had purchased her blue Sierra with its four-wheel drive to counteract that loathing. The four-wheel traction made it about as safe as it could be to drive on snowy roads. Ice was another story. If they had a fall of freezing rain tonight, with the resulting black ice...
It could be smooth going one minute, Mara smirked to herself at her small pun, and then you could just start sliding sidewise into the ditch. Even though the vehicle might not be spinning out of control and one was driving a sedate 10 miles per hour, one could find oneself sliding. Before the pickup, she had had that misfortune happen with her little Dodge compact.
One evening in the western end of the state, in Rapid City, she couldn't even remember why she had been there, there had been a fall of black ice rain. She had been toddling along quite nicely, when the car slid sideways in slow motion, no fishtailing to warn her, into a parked car. It had been one of those surreal moments, sort of like a car wreck, she smirked again, where you know it's going to happen, there ain't a damn thing you can do, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.
About the only option she had had was the luxury of choosing which car to slide into. She could try and accelerate and possibly spin out into a car at random, or she could just let the car go and meet the inevitable gentle, yet quite dented collision. No one had been hurt, just the two cars in question.
To add insult to injury, while she had been knocking on the door of the house where the car was parked, another car had slid into her car, adding matching dents to the driver's side of the Dodge. Fortunately, the original crunched car's owner was a woman with a calm disposition who helped both drivers sort it out with the police.
Mara had smiled and shook her head as another flash of lightening brought her back to the present. How embarrassing after driving in the nastier eastern side of the state weather to have had her first winter-related wreck in what was called the banana belt of the state. Between the Black Hills and Rapid City's location, that city was blessed with rather more temperate weather than not. Though their winter temperatures were anything but equatorial, they rarely experienced the sub-zero deep freezes that could go on for weeks in the eastern part of the state.
As the distant thunder rumbled, she admired the gray landscape in front of her. 'Definitely snow' she thought. Everything outside was illuminated to a near twilight level by the heavy white clouds above. It was strange how those types of clouds caught any ambient light, whether from the ground, or from the moon above them, and diffused it to make this eerie sub-lit landscape. She supposed it was the plentiful amounts of water the snow clouds carried that made for that strange mid-night glow.
She continued to admire the spectral landscape, waiting for the precipitation to fall. She had no doubt it would, she was just curious to see what form it would be in. If she got her druthers, it would be snow. Snow at least provided some traction, even when it was packed down to ice. It was never as smooth as black ice.
She heard a shout "No!" at the same time a particularly bright flash of lightening came shone through the window. Startled, she stood up, listening hard to see if someone had broken into the house. No sounds other than the distant rumble of thunder and the wind, which was slowly picking up, met her ears.
She remembered she had a guest. 'Well, he's probably not going to like me peering into his bed room in the middle of the night. Hell,' her nascent jealously flared a bit again, "he's probably used to having a woman around in the middle of the night from what Kev's said about him in the past. Stop that, Mara.'
Standing in front of the bedroom door, she tapped gently, turned the knob and eased it open to listen. She could hear some thrashing coming from the bed in the pitch black room, but she wasn't sure if it was in response to her knock, or whether Rafe was asleep and in the midst of a nightmare.
"Rafe?" She questioned, trying not to startle the man within. More noises from the direction of the bed. She slowly exhale the breath she had just noticed she was holding. No sound from the bed, but no response to her query either. Cursing herself for her overweening curiosity about just about anything, she quietly made her way to the bedside table and turned the three-way light on to its lowest setting.
The dim glow of the bulb shed its light on the bed, illuminating the sleeping Rafe, who looked like he was having anything but a peaceful sleep. The bedcovers were tangled up around him, and Mara found herself flushing a bit as she realized that he was sleeping with only a pair of boxer shorts on. Snatching her eyes away from Rafe's shorts, she was drawn to his chest, which was very nice. Very nice, with just a sprinkling of hair, in spite of his somewhat wirey build. She had somehow expected him to have a different looking chest...
'Snap out of, Pitts! Good grief, just because you have no sex life to speak of doesn't mean you should drool over your sleeping GUEST of all people while he's obviously having a nightmare.' She gritted her teeth over her foolishness and reached out to touch Rafe's shoulder. It was clammy with sweat. She gently shook him, trying to bring him out of the dream, hoping he wouldn't wake all the way up, but just enough to get him out of REM sleep.
The results were nearly instantaneous. Shoving down the covers, Rafe launched himself out of the bed to defend himself, Mara having become an attacker in his half awake dream. Or, anyway, he tried to. His right leg wouldn't cooperate fully and he found himself at the feet of Mara who had let out a startled squeak and then quickly backed away.
"Rafe" she said, not bothering to moderate her volume, "please wake up, it's okay, it's just me."
"Fuck." said Rafe, succinctly.
"I'm sorry I startled you, but..."
"Why are you in here, Mara?" he ground out, temper beginning to flare.
A loud rumble of thunder interrupted them. Mara gestured in the direction of the bow windows. "I was, the storm, it woke me up, I came downstairs to watch it and heard you shout I'm sorry I came in but I listened at the door and it sounded like you were having a bad nightmare and..." she trailed off after that rush of words when she ran out of air.
"Oh," he said, temper put out as he remembered his dream. He pushed himself off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, an ache beginning to thump in his leg. He was distantly thankful that Mara hadn't turned on the bright overhead light and had opted for the dimmer 40 watt glow instead. He shivered, the sweat on his skin chilling in the night air.
Not thinking, Mara grabbed the folded afghan off the top of the chest, shook it out and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly realizing what she had just done, she backed up a bit, not sure what to expect from this rather temperamental man.
He muttered "mother hen" under his breath, then looked up an met her wide eyes, and chuckled. She looked at him, a question in her eyes. "Well Ms. Pitts, you certainly look the part this evening," he took in her appearance in the patched up robe, her short blond hair spiked out and standing up in all possible directions. "I wouldn't precisely say you look like a hen, but you'll have to admit, there is the aura of 'flustered bird' about you."
"Well for heaven's sa..." she started, indignant at his mild joke at her expense.
"I'm sorry, Mara." He said, his apology cutting off her incipient tirade. "I probably look like hell myself."
Her short fuse sputtered to life again, but went out as she took a look at the man seated in front of her. The golden glow of the dim light brought out the graceful planes of his face. Mara's jaw dropped. Rafe was devastatingly handsome in this dim light, the sharp angles of his face gentled by the light, his lovely chest and 'oh, Mara, don't you DARE let that gaze wander any lower. We wouldn't want to make an complete ass of ourselves now do we?'
Mara's disobedient eyes did take in that he was wearing midnight blue silk boxers. Her eyes met Rafe's and she saw that he was grinning impudently at her, apparently accurately reading her mind. Damn.
She sat down with a thump in the chair near the bed, pulling her slack jaw shut while Rafe continued to grin at her. "Have a seat, Mara," he gestured at the chair she now occupied.
"Oh, God, Rafe, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." she stopped abruptly on a gasp when she saw the bruising on his right leg.
"Thank you."
"huh, wha?" her startled eyes met his.
"Thank you for waking me up. That was... a less than pleasant dream I was having."
"Oh, your leg? Are you all right, you didn't hurt it worse falling on the floor?" she babbled a bit incoherently.
"Mara, I'm fine. A bit of a headache..." he lied, the ache in his leg thumping in time to the one in his head.
"Let me get you something, where do you keep your pain pills, or I do have some ibuprofen if that would help..."
"Mara," he interrupted.
Mara shook herself. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling, aren't I?"
"A bit." he said calmly, causing her to giggle.
Calming down, Mara stood up. "I'll be right back."
Rafe contemplated her back leaving his room, her feminine curves, her...what the heck was that robe made out of? He grinned. That robe had certainly seen better days, he'd love to see her curves in deep burgundy silk, the color would be flattering to that thick, wild hair of hers. 'Now wait a minute Rafe, you like your women with LONG hair, remember? Not dumpy little editors with their short hair and, and, and..."
His thoughts floundered to a stop. He couldn't possibly be attracted to her, now could he?
How could I ever forget,
it's the first time, the last time we ever met
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up,
no you don't fool me
The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows
It's no stranger to you or me
Phil Collins - In The Air Tonight
Chapter 7 -- Weird Weather
Later that night, a rumble of thunder woke Mara. Her eyes sprang open and she looked around the dark bedroom, thinking she had dreamed it. A flash of lightning told her otherwise, followed by another distant rumble.
She stood up and went to the chair next to the window to retrieve her night robe, a warm, flannel plaid garment she had had for years. It was a bit more than plaid at this point, as whenever it wore through, whether on the elbow or shoulders, or the flannel had just worn thin, she would patch it with whatever cloth was handy.
Mara had been meaning to learn the art of quilt making, so she had been stashing worn out clothing for several years in anticipation of that. The closest she seemed to get to it was to make a quiltwork out of her old flannel robe.
She tied the belt around her waist and tip toed downstairs where she could watch the storm from the picture window in the living room. Facing south, that window would provide the most spectacular, nearly 180 degree view of any storm in the area. She opened the drapes and sat down in the chair Rafe had occupied earlier, which faced the huge window.
While thunder in March was unusual, it wasn't unheard of. Usually though, it meant there would probably be a blizzard, or at least a nice, annoying fall of freezing rain turning the roads to black ice.
Which meant for a fun trip into town. Mara sighed. She loathed driving on slick roads, but had purchased her blue Sierra with its four-wheel drive to counteract that loathing. The four-wheel traction made it about as safe as it could be to drive on snowy roads. Ice was another story. If they had a fall of freezing rain tonight, with the resulting black ice...
It could be smooth going one minute, Mara smirked to herself at her small pun, and then you could just start sliding sidewise into the ditch. Even though the vehicle might not be spinning out of control and one was driving a sedate 10 miles per hour, one could find oneself sliding. Before the pickup, she had had that misfortune happen with her little Dodge compact.
One evening in the western end of the state, in Rapid City, she couldn't even remember why she had been there, there had been a fall of black ice rain. She had been toddling along quite nicely, when the car slid sideways in slow motion, no fishtailing to warn her, into a parked car. It had been one of those surreal moments, sort of like a car wreck, she smirked again, where you know it's going to happen, there ain't a damn thing you can do, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.
About the only option she had had was the luxury of choosing which car to slide into. She could try and accelerate and possibly spin out into a car at random, or she could just let the car go and meet the inevitable gentle, yet quite dented collision. No one had been hurt, just the two cars in question.
To add insult to injury, while she had been knocking on the door of the house where the car was parked, another car had slid into her car, adding matching dents to the driver's side of the Dodge. Fortunately, the original crunched car's owner was a woman with a calm disposition who helped both drivers sort it out with the police.
Mara had smiled and shook her head as another flash of lightening brought her back to the present. How embarrassing after driving in the nastier eastern side of the state weather to have had her first winter-related wreck in what was called the banana belt of the state. Between the Black Hills and Rapid City's location, that city was blessed with rather more temperate weather than not. Though their winter temperatures were anything but equatorial, they rarely experienced the sub-zero deep freezes that could go on for weeks in the eastern part of the state.
As the distant thunder rumbled, she admired the gray landscape in front of her. 'Definitely snow' she thought. Everything outside was illuminated to a near twilight level by the heavy white clouds above. It was strange how those types of clouds caught any ambient light, whether from the ground, or from the moon above them, and diffused it to make this eerie sub-lit landscape. She supposed it was the plentiful amounts of water the snow clouds carried that made for that strange mid-night glow.
She continued to admire the spectral landscape, waiting for the precipitation to fall. She had no doubt it would, she was just curious to see what form it would be in. If she got her druthers, it would be snow. Snow at least provided some traction, even when it was packed down to ice. It was never as smooth as black ice.
She heard a shout "No!" at the same time a particularly bright flash of lightening came shone through the window. Startled, she stood up, listening hard to see if someone had broken into the house. No sounds other than the distant rumble of thunder and the wind, which was slowly picking up, met her ears.
She remembered she had a guest. 'Well, he's probably not going to like me peering into his bed room in the middle of the night. Hell,' her nascent jealously flared a bit again, "he's probably used to having a woman around in the middle of the night from what Kev's said about him in the past. Stop that, Mara.'
Standing in front of the bedroom door, she tapped gently, turned the knob and eased it open to listen. She could hear some thrashing coming from the bed in the pitch black room, but she wasn't sure if it was in response to her knock, or whether Rafe was asleep and in the midst of a nightmare.
"Rafe?" She questioned, trying not to startle the man within. More noises from the direction of the bed. She slowly exhale the breath she had just noticed she was holding. No sound from the bed, but no response to her query either. Cursing herself for her overweening curiosity about just about anything, she quietly made her way to the bedside table and turned the three-way light on to its lowest setting.
The dim glow of the bulb shed its light on the bed, illuminating the sleeping Rafe, who looked like he was having anything but a peaceful sleep. The bedcovers were tangled up around him, and Mara found herself flushing a bit as she realized that he was sleeping with only a pair of boxer shorts on. Snatching her eyes away from Rafe's shorts, she was drawn to his chest, which was very nice. Very nice, with just a sprinkling of hair, in spite of his somewhat wirey build. She had somehow expected him to have a different looking chest...
'Snap out of, Pitts! Good grief, just because you have no sex life to speak of doesn't mean you should drool over your sleeping GUEST of all people while he's obviously having a nightmare.' She gritted her teeth over her foolishness and reached out to touch Rafe's shoulder. It was clammy with sweat. She gently shook him, trying to bring him out of the dream, hoping he wouldn't wake all the way up, but just enough to get him out of REM sleep.
The results were nearly instantaneous. Shoving down the covers, Rafe launched himself out of the bed to defend himself, Mara having become an attacker in his half awake dream. Or, anyway, he tried to. His right leg wouldn't cooperate fully and he found himself at the feet of Mara who had let out a startled squeak and then quickly backed away.
"Rafe" she said, not bothering to moderate her volume, "please wake up, it's okay, it's just me."
"Fuck." said Rafe, succinctly.
"I'm sorry I startled you, but..."
"Why are you in here, Mara?" he ground out, temper beginning to flare.
A loud rumble of thunder interrupted them. Mara gestured in the direction of the bow windows. "I was, the storm, it woke me up, I came downstairs to watch it and heard you shout I'm sorry I came in but I listened at the door and it sounded like you were having a bad nightmare and..." she trailed off after that rush of words when she ran out of air.
"Oh," he said, temper put out as he remembered his dream. He pushed himself off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, an ache beginning to thump in his leg. He was distantly thankful that Mara hadn't turned on the bright overhead light and had opted for the dimmer 40 watt glow instead. He shivered, the sweat on his skin chilling in the night air.
Not thinking, Mara grabbed the folded afghan off the top of the chest, shook it out and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly realizing what she had just done, she backed up a bit, not sure what to expect from this rather temperamental man.
He muttered "mother hen" under his breath, then looked up an met her wide eyes, and chuckled. She looked at him, a question in her eyes. "Well Ms. Pitts, you certainly look the part this evening," he took in her appearance in the patched up robe, her short blond hair spiked out and standing up in all possible directions. "I wouldn't precisely say you look like a hen, but you'll have to admit, there is the aura of 'flustered bird' about you."
"Well for heaven's sa..." she started, indignant at his mild joke at her expense.
"I'm sorry, Mara." He said, his apology cutting off her incipient tirade. "I probably look like hell myself."
Her short fuse sputtered to life again, but went out as she took a look at the man seated in front of her. The golden glow of the dim light brought out the graceful planes of his face. Mara's jaw dropped. Rafe was devastatingly handsome in this dim light, the sharp angles of his face gentled by the light, his lovely chest and 'oh, Mara, don't you DARE let that gaze wander any lower. We wouldn't want to make an complete ass of ourselves now do we?'
Mara's disobedient eyes did take in that he was wearing midnight blue silk boxers. Her eyes met Rafe's and she saw that he was grinning impudently at her, apparently accurately reading her mind. Damn.
She sat down with a thump in the chair near the bed, pulling her slack jaw shut while Rafe continued to grin at her. "Have a seat, Mara," he gestured at the chair she now occupied.
"Oh, God, Rafe, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." she stopped abruptly on a gasp when she saw the bruising on his right leg.
"Thank you."
"huh, wha?" her startled eyes met his.
"Thank you for waking me up. That was... a less than pleasant dream I was having."
"Oh, your leg? Are you all right, you didn't hurt it worse falling on the floor?" she babbled a bit incoherently.
"Mara, I'm fine. A bit of a headache..." he lied, the ache in his leg thumping in time to the one in his head.
"Let me get you something, where do you keep your pain pills, or I do have some ibuprofen if that would help..."
"Mara," he interrupted.
Mara shook herself. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling, aren't I?"
"A bit." he said calmly, causing her to giggle.
Calming down, Mara stood up. "I'll be right back."
Rafe contemplated her back leaving his room, her feminine curves, her...what the heck was that robe made out of? He grinned. That robe had certainly seen better days, he'd love to see her curves in deep burgundy silk, the color would be flattering to that thick, wild hair of hers. 'Now wait a minute Rafe, you like your women with LONG hair, remember? Not dumpy little editors with their short hair and, and, and..."
His thoughts floundered to a stop. He couldn't possibly be attracted to her, now could he?
posted by Dace @ 6:44 PM
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