Leaning forward and squinting through the blizzard, he said, "Well that doesn't seem entirely fair to him."
"Don't judge. He doesn't deserve you championing him."
"Fine. It's none of my business, anyway. Just help me around the place and get your rent to me on time, and that's all I care about."
He didn't like the words that came from his mouth, but they were necessary. Their relationship had to be a working one. A business relationship. He needed her help to get him through the winter, and now, she needed his help for the same reason. But that's where it stopped. He had a complicated enough relationship to juggle, and another woman in the mix just wouldn't work out well for anyone involved.
****
Farrah couldn't get a feel for Aanon's place when it was covered in three feet of snow. Alder and spruce dotted the land, and in front of a cozy looking cabin stood metal machinery she hadn't a guess at. If she'd been more liked in high school, she'd have known exactly what Aanon's home looked like, even with the snow blanket. All of the best parties had been held here, well out of the reach of the local sheriff and his deputy. Likely, every classmate but her had been up here at some point or another during their school days. Farrah used to imagine what it would be like up here, tucked away in the wilderness, drinking with her classmates and without a care in the world.
And now she would be living here.
Of all the places on earth, never would she have thought to call Aanon's home her own.
Handing back his jacket, she stretched her frozen toes to the ends of her snow boots and pushed open the passenger door. He didn't give her a tour of the big house. Instead, he led her around back through a snow bank and opened the door to a small house that looked suspiciously like one of the metal storage containers that carried goods on giant ocean cargo ships.
"We're slaves to wood burning stoves this far out," Aanon said as he lit three old fashioned oil lanterns and hung two on pegs.
In the lamplight, she could see the place was actually quite well put together. A small kitchen sat to the right and delved directly into the living area, which boasted one futon and a small bookshelf. A pair of deer antlers hung from a simple mount on the back wall, and the bathroom was small but functional. The bedroom held a cot with a thin mattress and thick sleeping blankets. A single pillow sat atop the piles, and a small chest of drawers stood stoically against the wall by the bed.
The lamp he set on a small table. With a sweep of his hand, he said, "The bedroom and bathroom are over there. There isn't a fridge but the big house has a root cellar that I'll show you when the snow clears up. There's a deep freeze up at the big house, too, that I'm stocking for winter. If you need meat, let me know, and I'll get you what you want. Baths are a little old fashioned, but again, I hadn't set this up for a woman. The tub is by the stove. You'll have to heat your water for it." He stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the tiny candlelit castle. "You know how to light a fire?"
"I used to. I'm sure it'll come back to me."
"Let me show you the right way to do it so you don't burn this place to the ground."
Outside, on a small side porch, cords of different-sized wood had been chopped and neatly stacked. He grabbed small and big logs and hauled them to the stove that stood against the kitchen wall. After a newspaper was shredded and arranged in the bottom of the ash pile, he shoved the smaller pieces of wood in first and lit a match against the old newsprint. When the fire was large enough, he added the bigger logs. "You'll have to get up and stoke the fire during the night if you don't want to wake up frozen to your cot."
"Okay, I will." She couldn't breathe, and she had the distinct feeling it was Aanon's overwhelming ability to fill small spaces with his strength of personality and character that made the walls seem to close in.
"Right. Well, goodnight." Hesitating, his eyebrows drew down beneath his cable knit winter hat before he spun and shut the door behind him.
Farrah drew a gust of air into her lungs and steadied her breathing. She turned and pressed against the window. It didn't have blinds or curtains, and she could barely make out Aanon's back as he moved toward the big house. When he disappeared into the blizzard, she eased her suitcase onto the bed, grateful to not have to heft it around anymore, and unpacked it slowly. There wasn't much, and it didn't take long, but there was a sense of accomplishment when everything was in its place. This was her new home, and no matter what, she was going to have to make it work.
The house was small and the wood burning stove heated it up quickly. After she'd hauled in enough wood to last the night and set it by the front door where it would stay dry, she locked up and heated water on the stove. She'd been traveling for a while and a bath in her own place sounded heavenly. Modesty would've hindered her if she could actually see the big house through the exposed windows, but there was no way Aanon could see into her place from his blizzard-encompassed log home. It took a long time, and the giant pot was heavy when filled, but as soon as there was enough to bathe in, she sunk deep into the old claw foot tub and washed her hair with the fancy shampoos and conditioners from her old life.
Before bed, she stoked the fire and doused the lamps on the wall. Satisfied the house wouldn't burn to the ground with her in it, she made her way into the bedroom and left the door open so the heat could reach her. After pulling the only picture she'd brought from New York from the side zipper of her bag, she held the lantern over the smiling faces of her and Miles at a Christmas party a couple of years back. It had been her favorite picture of them, and why she'd brought it, she couldn't explain. She stared at her own flickering naïve grin and wondered for the thousandth time, why?
****
The whine of the battery-operated alarm clock next to her bed rang out at eight o'clock the next morning. She'd set it early to make herself of use if Aanon needed it, but one listen to her surroundings told her she'd miscalculated. The rhythmic chop chop of metal ax on wood echoed through the homestead.
She plaited her hair in a thick braid and pinned it in a tight bun at the base of her neck before sliding into her layers. Then she brushed her teeth and washed her face with frigid mountain water from the tap. If she wasn't awake before, she was definitely awake now. After a quick glance at the slight slope of her stomach in the mirror, she checked the door of the stove and pulled her snow boots on.
Aanon had his back to her and split logs like he'd done a million times before. Maybe he had. After one was cut into halves or fourths, he put another log immediately onto the old stump he used as a chopping block. He'd removed his jacket, and the gray thermal shirt clung to him as his powerful body moved in a graceful arch. Lithe and strong, his motion was fluid, and the crack of power caressed her skin with every swing.
Two dogs stood loyally by him, one a full grown husky and one a smaller mixed breed of some sort. The smaller one lay on her back with a small brick of wood hanging out of her mouth. Upon closer inspection, she was actually a large puppy.
Well, she said she'd pay Aanon, and he'd made it clear what he wanted was help around the place, so she would start repaying the debt now.
Clearing her throat, she held out two hundred dollars in twenties, and he stopped mid-swing and stared at her with a frown.
"First month's rent. If I slack too much around here, tell me if you need more, okay?"
He took the money and shoved it into his pocket. She stooped and gathered an armload of chopped firewood and hauled it to the front porch of the big house where he already had a sizeable stockpile. After her third trip, the chopping picked up again, and she tried her best to ignore his alluring presence.
She worked until her arms shook and her stomach growled. Briney's sandwich had worn off long ago, and the little life inside of her complained at its mistreatment.
Sitting heavily onto a carved bench on the front porch, she took a break. Aanon frowned at her from his vantage point over the chopping block and swiped a bare forearm over his forehead. "You hungry?"
"Always," she said with a self-deprecating smile.
Thwack. The ax came to rest deep in the belly of the block, and Aanon sauntered over to her. "I've got food for you inside. Be right back."
She thanked him for the butter-filled biscuits and milk and talked between bites as he went back to chopping wood. "Since the snow stopped, I was thinking about going into town and getting a few food necessities from the general store so I don't have to mooch off of you anymore. Do you need me to pick up anything for the house?"