Winter at the White Oaks Lodge (21 page)

I could tell he was so charmed that he was about to agree, and so I said firmly, “Not this time, Millie Jo-Jo. You stay here and play with Grandma. It's cold out.”

She made her pouty lips and wriggled to get down. Mathias watched her scamper over to the couch before turning back to me. He said, “I think my heart just melted all over the floor. Just the same way ice cream would.”

“She likes you,” I said softly, giggling at his words.

He said quietly, “I was hoping her mama might just like me a little too.”

“Maybe just a little,” I teased him, though my heart was going like a jackhammer.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, reaching for my coat. He held it so I could shrug inside, keeping his hands on my upper arms for a moment.

“Kids, you have fun and we'll see you later,” Aunt Ellen said as she came from the kitchen.

“Drive safe,” Grandma told Mathias.

He nodded seriously.

I bent down to kiss Millie. I told her, “Behave yourself.”

Millie quit jumping on the couch and gave me a hug. She said, “Have a good time, Mama.”

Mathias said, “Aw, we'll bring you next time, kiddo, I promise.”

“She won't forget that, you know,” I warned him as we headed to his truck. He was driving the plow truck again, but with the plow attachment removed. It was such a giant cab that it sat about ten feet above any other vehicle on the road. Mathias opened the squeaky passenger door for me and helped me inside. Once there, I inhaled and breathed the scent of him; this was his space and it smelled delicious, just the way his neck always did.

He jogged around the hood and climbed in, loudly telling me, “I would bring her, but it's so cold. And I really want you to see your Christmas present.”

“So where are we headed?” I asked as he drove us slowly back around the lake road.

“White Oaks, first,” he said and grinned at me, all anticipation. And then suddenly he braked and pulled over and said, “Oh my God, come here for a minute.”

I was on his lap, straddling him, before he could blink. He groaned deep in his throat and brought my mouth instantly to his, running his hands down my back, fingers spread wide. I clutched his jaw and kissed him back shamelessly, heatedly, incredibly. He was so powerful beneath me, so strong and sturdy. A pulse beat insistently between my legs and I pressed harder to him, even with all of our winter gear in the way. I tore the hat from his head and curved my hands into his hair, overwhelmed with the ferocious need to get every stitch of clothing from his body and mine as fast as humanly possible.

“Oh my God,” he groaned again, hoarsely, holding me firmly to his body. He said, “I promised I wouldn't rush you…oh my God, come here…”

He drew my bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over the fullness of it before biting my chin, just lightly, and then kissing my neck, his tongue making hot spots. I was breathing hard, tipping back my head so he could have better access to my neck. I reached to unzip my coat, struggling out of it, and his lips followed as he kissed my collarbones. He ran his tongue in a line upwards, and I shivered and spilled over between my legs.

“Don't stop,” I begged him and he breathed out in a shuddering rush, gripping me tightly around the waist.

“Believe me, I don't want to stop,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Oh God, Camille…but I can't take advantage of you like this on the side of the road.”

I giggled a little, trying to catch my breath, unwilling to move back to my side of the truck. Besides, his hands were yet anchoring me to his lap.

“You are hardly taking advantage,” I whispered back.

“One more,” he said, tugging me to his mouth before we managed to separate.

We reached White Oaks not five minutes later, its grand front windows glowing golden and welcoming into the night.

“It's starry,” I noticed in wonder, pausing to look up at the sky. It had been overcast for what seemed like weeks now.

“I thought that was just your eyes,” he teased me, catching my mitten into his glove. “I told Dad and Ma we'd stop in and say hi before we went.”

“Went where?” I asked.

“You'll see,” was all he would say.

The dining room wasn't weekend-busy, just a small crowd. Elaine and Diana were behind the bar chatting with an elderly couple while Bull sat near the fireplace with a couple of men, telling a story about something. He interrupted himself as Mathias and I came into the room decked in our winter gear.

“Hi you two,” Diana said warmly, coming to give her son and me each a hug. She told me, “Matty has been so excited. He worked like the dickens all day on—”

“Ma!” he yelped. “No giving it away!”

Diana covered her mouth with her right hand as Bull came bustling over and gave me a hug too.

“I don't know how he deserves you,” Bull said. “But I'm glad you're giving Mathias a chance, Camille. I had a feeling about you two, I did.”

Elaine leaned over the bar to say, “Matty, should I tell Tina it's time to…you know…”

He made shushing motions but then nodded. And then he asked, “Ma, do you have one of your old face masks that Camille could borrow?”

Two minutes later he and I resembled snowmen. I pulled Diana's face mask over my head, the kind that allowed for eyes and mouth to be exposed, nothing else. I felt a jolt of awareness beat all along my skin as I studied Mathias in a similar ski mask; the way his sensuous lips and eyes were highlighted made me want to taste his kiss more than ever. He read my mind, bending to kiss me softly, just a brushing of his mouth against mine, and my knees trembled.

“You ready?” he asked. “It's not far, but I want to surprise you.”

Outside, under the crisp black sky, Mathias held my arm against him, leading me around White Oaks to where three snowmobiles were parked. He bent and scooped me into his arms, and I shrieked and then laughed, clinging to his neck. He said, “I am going to blindfold you so that you won't know where we're going until we get there. I'll go slow, don't worry.”

I was still mystified, but I allowed him to retie my scarf so that it covered my eyes. Smelling the scent of cold wool, I giggled more as he lifted me back into his arms and helped me astride one of the snowmobiles; it was cold and hard beneath me, even through the layers of protective gear, and I was glad when he settled immediately behind me, warm and solid.

He leaned close to my ear, taking my hands into his and positioning them around the handlebars. He said, “I'll be right behind you and we'll go slow.”

I nodded and snuggled into him. He kissed my temple and then fired up the sled. I couldn't help making a small sound as he backed us up, but then the ride was smooth as ice. Mathias's arms were snug around me, his thighs aligning with mine, his body shifting as we glided together over the snow, the engine purring quietly beneath us. I could only imagine where we were headed; it was exciting and again that he had planned something like this for me was ridiculously romantic. Less than five minutes later he slowed and in the absence of the engine noise, the air around us was utterly silent. I released my grip on the handlebars and cupped his thighs.

“Are we here?” I asked.

“We are,” he said, and his voice sounded hoarse; he sounded like he might have a lump in his throat and I tightened my hands around his legs. He wrapped his arms around me and held for a moment, then asked softly, “Are you ready to see it?”

“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly, and felt his hands move up to slip the scarf from my eyes.

I stared wordlessly, pelted by the intensity of my emotions. I brought both hands up to my mouth as I gaped in wonder at the sight before my eyes. Mathias rested his hands on my shoulders and all at once I started to cry, the tears hot as bathwater over my chilled cheeks. But they were happy tears, borne of pure amazement.

“Camille,” he whispered, locking his arms at once around me, cradling me to his chest.

“It's…so…beautiful,” I choked out, turning to hug him, as best as I could through the layers between our bodies. “When did…when did you…”

“Christmas Eve,” he said. “I worked all day and into the night. I cleaned out the chimney and fixed the window and hauled wood. I cleaned out the inside. You could eat off the floor in there now. Come see, sweetheart, come and see.” His words were laced with wonder and anticipation, his voice husky.

Sweetheart
. He had called me sweetheart and before us, as we sat together on the snowmobile, the little homestead cabin was alive in its clearing. Rich, warm firelight poured from the windows and smoke curled upwards into the clear night sky. I had never felt more like I was coming home and tears washed faster from my eyes, soaking the ski mask. Mathias stood and then helped me to my feet. As I was overcome and tearful, he lifted me into his arms like a bride and climbed up the porch steps. He reached awkwardly, hampered by his heavy outerwear, to open the door and then we crossed the threshold into our cabin.

Ours.

From this moment forth, I would never think of this place as anything else. I tried to look everywhere at once, to take in the warmth of the little room in the flickering firelight, before realizing that there was a table and two chairs that had not been there before, and atop the table was a round chocolate cake and a small stack of paper plates. I looked at him in stunned silence.

“Elves. Woodland elves,” he told me, and I laughed through my tears, hugging him around the neck. We were still in our ski masks, like bank robbers, and I was laughing and crying at the same time. Mathias tugged the ski mask from my head, my hair snapping with static electricity, and kissed me with his still mask in place, kissed me deeply. I clung to him and tasted his kiss and felt that there would never be anything more in the world that I would ever need.

“So happy birthday too,” he said, smiling into my eyes; his own glinted with the sparks of tears.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice so rough with emotion that the words barely formed. “In a hundred years I would never have imagined that this was my present.”

“The cake was last-minute, since you just told me when your birthday was last night,” he said, setting me gently to the ground and removing his own mask. He added, “I could just stand here and watch you smile. I knew you would love it as much as I do.”

“I love it
so
much,” I told him. I thought,
I love
you
so much.

“See the chimney, doesn't it look great?” he rejoiced, tugging me over to inspect it. The cabin was squeaky-clean, the floorboards gleaming. The fire reflected in the window panes and in my heart. He explained, “Tina came out here before we did to get the fire going and set out the cake.”

“Thank you for that,” I said again. “It's like it's never been empty. Like it's been waiting here for us.”

He nodded and our eyes locked, saying more than any words. He pulled me close for a kiss just as the other two snowmobiles came roaring up. Pressing his lips to my temple, he said softly, “My family. Some of them, I should say. Sorry, they wanted to sing to you. I couldn't convince them that we wanted a little privacy.”

I was choked up again, unable to release my hold on him. I kissed his neck, his chin, at last whispering, “They sing too?”

Feet came stamping up the porch steps.

“They do,” he said, cradling me close before we turned as one to greet everyone.

Tina and Sam had ridden one of the sleds, Bull and Diana the other. Elaine had elected to walk, as it was such a pretty night, but she arrived just minutes later, as Tina was arranging candles in the cake. There weren't enough places to sit, but as the birthday girl I was allowed a chair; Mathias sat on it first and then I sat on his lap. He had stripped down to his thermal shirt and snow bibs, and looked so smiley and disheveled and fucking handsome that my fingers tingled to touch him. To be honest, every part of me tingled to be pressed to him. He kept his arms locked around my waist and the little cabin was aglow with warmth and laughter.

“You'll need some furniture in here straight away,” Diana teased, after they had all sung ‘Happy Birthday' to me and she had sliced pieces of cake. “A leather couch, a nice entertainment center…”

“Ma, there's the entertainment center,” Tina said, indicating the fireplace. Her red hair gleamed in its light.

Sam suggested, his mouth full of cake, “Maybe a bed…a nice feather one…”

Everyone laughed and Tina slapped at his shoulder.

“Son, you done good,” Bull said affectionately.

“You're right, Dad,” Mathias said back, looking into my eyes as I sat on his lap, one arm hooked around his neck, both of his around my waist. He smiled softly and repeated, “You're so right.”

The very next morning I drove my
pickup to the clinic in Bemidji and got on the birth control pill, a birthday present to myself. I also received my period and a case of cramps, but was so elated by Mathias's surprise that I was not bothered in the least. I had been considering that it was time to be done nursing Millie; as she was approaching two years old, this seemed like as opportune a time as any.

“Start them once your period is over and be sure to use protection for at least the first two weeks,” the nurse told me, and gifted me with a box of condoms. Just looking at them on the passenger seat next to me on the way back to Landon was enough to make my pulse jump and my belly go hollow. I hid them deep in my purse before I got home.

We went to Mathias's apartment in Pine Ridge that evening, after supper at Grandma's, as Skid was at his second job and the place was ours.

“I still can't believe all the work you did on the cabin,” I told him as we lay tangled together on his couch, fully clothed but with our hands all over each other. Mathias had already sung me ‘Happy Birthday' twice. He was wearing his faded jeans and a soft old Coca-Cola t-shirt, his feet bare. I was in jeans too, and a white, short-sleeved sweater with a deep v-neck. He had insisted that I take off my socks too, so that he could feel my feet against his own. He kept curling his toes over mine, making me laugh. The television was on in the background, tuned quietly to the local station, which was airing
Back to the Future
, but we weren't paying attention to anything but one another. We were lying so that my back was against his front, his left arm curved beneath me, one warm hand stroking my belly beneath my sweater. His right hand was moving in a similar rhythm along my hip, down my thigh and then back up again. I was almost limp with the pleasure of his touches, which sent heated waves all through me. He swept all the hair from the side of my neck and made me shiver and squirm delightedly as he kissed me there repeatedly, occasionally suckling me gently, biting my earlobe.

And we talked and talked.

“This next spring I'm going to make it so that it's livable year-round,” he told me at one point, rubbing his stubbly chin against the sensitive skin along my jaw. I felt him smile against my neck.

“You won't change it much, will you?” I asked. “I hate to think of it being too modernized, you know what I mean?”

“I do,” he said softly. He curled me even closer and went on, “What I really want to do is add on to it. I have to get a permit from the county. I wonder what that would entail, exactly. I want it to be comfortable, not huge.”

“That sounds incredible,” I whispered, shamelessly picturing myself and Millie there too.

“It does,” he said softly, his lips near my ear. He kissed my temple and then said, “It's been a dream of mine since I was a kid. All those summers I'd lay in there and think about who had slept within those walls before me. Then I'd get bitten to shit by mosquitoes but I didn't care. Sometimes my friends would join me, and then we'd scare the hell out of each other with stories of ax-murderers who wandered the woods at night.”

I giggled at this, and Mathias went on, “Skid would remember those summers too. One night Elaine and a couple of her friends came sneaking through the woods and tapped on the window and then ran. I realized what it means to have the hair on the back of your neck stand up, like a wolf's or something. Man, that was scary. The next morning they confessed it. We spent the rest of that summer plotting revenge on them.”

“I can just picture you,” I told him, and I could. I felt so possessive of him; I wanted to hear every story and know every detail. I wanted every touch and every kiss and I felt weak with longing for these things.

He was laughing, tickling me, as his lips were against my neck. He said, “We got them really good. We stole their clothes when they were swimming.”

“Were they skinny-dipping?”

He nodded, still laughing. “Oh it was sweet revenge. Mom told Dad he ought to horsewhip us, but Dad just grinned and said, ‘Boys will be boys.' Isn't that terrible? What a copout answer. But we got away with it.”

I shifted to kiss his neck and whispered, “No, it's funny. It sounds like something Clinty would do.”

“I love how your family seems so close,” he told me. “I'm glad you've always had that. I know I fight with my sisters, but I can't imagine life without them around. These last years in the Cities, that was the worst part, being away from my family.”

“They missed you too. All of them talked about you all the time, about how much they wanted you to move home,” I told him. His hands felt so good upon me, caressing me, that I shivered for the countless time, and he kissed my neck, just lightly biting me. I added softly, “And I was missing you too, with all of my heart, I just didn't realize it until I saw you. Until you came home. I'm so happy you came home.”

His hands stilled their movement and he wrapped me close. I could feel his heart, the scent of him all around me, his skin and his breath, like a drug I couldn't live without. He threaded our fingers together, our hands just beneath my breasts. He said, “You can't know how happy I am to be home, to have found you. Camille, you can't know.”

I said what was in my heart, “I know it's crazy, but I never want to be out of your arms again.”

“You won't be,” he said passionately. “Camille, I promise you. And it's not crazy.”

Something even deeper than instinct shifted at these words, within me, and I closed my eyes and for a time we simply clung; no words were necessary. At last he whispered in my ear, “I want to build the cabin for us, for you and me and for Millie Jo.”

Tears washed over the bridge of my nose, as I was on my side, and Mathias turned me in his arms, so that he could brush them away. He kissed my lips and said, “That's what I want.”

“That's what I want too,” I whispered, choked up. “Our little cabin.”

He smiled at me, tears in his eyes too, though he didn't let them fall. His blue eyes intent upon me, he said, “I love that you called it our cabin. It is ours. I could never build it for anyone but you. Will you let me build it for you?”

“I'll help you,” I told him, smiling at him, stroking his thick black hair.

His eyes lit at my words and he said, “I'd like to keep the original building as a living room but make a newer wing with a kitchen, a real bathroom, a couple of bedrooms…”

At the mention of bedrooms (his, complete with bed, was so close) my stomach was suddenly poised at the tip of a roller coaster drop. Suddenly picturing the box of condoms still tucked in my purse no more than twenty feet away, I heard myself say, “Mathias…I have something…to tell you…” and was then besieged by a rush of heat across my face.

He kissed my cheek, one warm hand back against my belly, and whispered, “What is it?”

I was trembling then, and at once the expression in his beautiful eyes was worried. He said in a rush, “I love holding you like this. I love it with all my heart. I don't expect anything else, you know that don't you?”

My face was hot as a teakettle on the stove. I closed my eyes for a second and he implored, sounding worried now too, “Camille, don't you?”

“I drove to Bemidji today and I…”

“What is it, sweetheart? You what?”

“I got a prescription for the pill,” I said as fast as I could. I opened mine to find him looking down at me with so much tenderness, so much love in his eyes, that there was no disguising it and my own heart beat with a radiant joy. I felt silly for even being embarrassed to tell him. My face, however, was still flaming.

“Well,” he said at last. He traced his fingertips down the side of my face and then kissed my lips as gently as the brushing of a feather. He said softly, “You know how a pirate must feel when he finds a treasure chest after a lifetime of obsessive searching? Totally priceless, the kind he would lay down his life for, that kind of treasure? This is a hundred times more precious than that. A thousand.”

I was laughing long before he finished his analogy, squirming against his hands, which were everywhere at once, tickling me.

“You think I'm kidding?” he gasped out, laughing too. “Because I'm not. I feel like a man who's just grabbed the log that will keep him afloat, knowing that he'll survive after all…”

“What?” I yelped, breathless with laughter as he dug wickedly into my ribs. “The
log?
”

“I'm just trying to express the depth of my gratitude at this gift—
ooof!
”

I had thumped him with a cushion and we rolled onto the carpet, laughing and struggling (though I didn't exactly fight him away), eventually ending up with me beneath him; Mathias braced on his elbows over me and studied my eyes at close range. He whispered, “It is a gift. In all seriousness, Camille. I can't imagine a time when I didn't know you.” I curled my hands up and around his biceps, holding tightly to him, as he went on, “I want you to stay here with me, right here in my arms. I mean, I know you have to go home to Millie. I'm just wishing you could stay. This morning…this morning, right before I woke up I was dreaming that I couldn't find you, Camille, and it was horrible. It was just a nightmare, I know—”

His words called to my mind a vague and unsettled memory, a sense of something I should remember and could not. I said, “Mathias, I feel like…I truly believe…that it has something to do with Malcolm Carter. He used to live in our cabin, he was there and then—” I cut myself short, uncertain what I had intended to say. I studied Mathias intently and then asked, “Will you help me find him?”

He nodded at once, saying, “I feel like it's important too. If his family was here in Landon, what was he doing as far away as Montana? That's at least a twenty-hour drive from here. What would that possibly equate to on horseback?”

“Over a month of riding, at least, not counting rest stops,” I said, half-teasing, and Mathias snorted a laugh, catching my right hand as I held his face, turning to press a kiss to my palm.

“Most importantly, I think, is what was he searching for?” Mathias asked.

“Maybe those letters your dad told us about, out in Montana, would have some answers…”

“Next summer we'll drive out there. We'll take a week and go. If there's anything to find, we'll hunt it down.” Our eyes held for a beat, and then longer. Mathias bent to me slowly, tracing his tongue over the tiny scar on my top lip and I trembled in his arms. He said hoarsely, “Camille, I'm not trying to change the subject, but oh God, I want to make love with you so much that it actually hurts. Here I wanted to be this amazingly good guy, the one who didn't push you to do things you weren't ready for, and I'm full of shit because I want to be inside of you at this second more than anything on this earth. Oh God…the way you feel in my arms…”

It was probably cruel to both of us, but I spread my legs beneath him, unable to stop as he'd spoken the words ‘inside of you,' making a firm cradle for his hips, my arms around his neck. His eyes darkened with intensity and he groaned, “Oh my God…”

“You are an amazingly good guy,” I told him, feeling how hard he was through both pairs of our jeans. My entire body seemed to liquefy with the desire to envelope him. My voice shaking a little, I said, “And you aren't pushing me. I want you, oh God, Mathias, I want you…”

He bent and kissed me, his tongue claiming my mouth with heated strokes. I moaned and lifted against him and the intensity of our kissing swelled instantly beyond our control. He sensed this too and rolled us to our sides, catching me close to his thunderous heartbeat and tipping his face to my neck. I could hardly breathe. He whispered, his own breath ragged, “Camille…” He kissed my temple, the side of my neck, resting his lips on my hair. At last he said, “We'll wait until you've started the pill. And I hope you know…” He kissed me again, deeply, before continuing, “I want you to know that I would wait as long as it took for you to be ready. You know that, don't you?”

I nodded, letting my right hand rest on his jaw, delighting in the rough texture there. I said, “I do. I'm the one who can't wait.”

“That is one hundred percent untrue,” he said passionately. “If I were any less a gentleman, I would be completely buck naked at this moment and so would you.”

I giggled at this, kissing his chin, tasting him a little. I whispered, “I used to think the expression was ‘butt naked,' not buck.”

He groaned a little and his blue eyes blazed into mine as he said back, “The thought of you either way is about more than I can handle. You're so soft, so silky…” He ran his fingertips lightly along my skin, exposed by the v-neck of my sweater, before following the same path with his tongue. I made a sound in my throat and he whispered, “And you taste so damn good…”

At that moment a key turned in the lock, out near the kitchen, and I squeaked. Mathias rolled us again, lifting me back up to his lap, atop the couch, just as Skid came clunking into the apartment.

“Hey, guys,” Skid said on the way to his room.

“I better get going anyway,” I whispered reluctantly and Mathias held me tighter in response. I was tingling and electric in his arms.

“I know you have to go but I'm rebelling against the thought. Can I come and sleep over with you? I can hardly bear to let you out of my sight. God, I sound like a fucking stalker…”

I started laughing at that, teasing him, “You're not hurting, are you…” though for whatever reason I suddenly saw the words from Malcolm's telegram emblazoned across my mind's eye.

He pressed his face to my back and laughed. He said, “I'm not gonna lie…I'm hurting a little…” He kissed me between the shoulder blades and then said, “C'mon, I'll drive you home, birthday girl. But I'm going to sing to you on the way…”