There was still a chill in the air, even with the fireplace roaring at the other end of the room. A cast-iron screen protected them from sparks or stray pops of overheated wood. The sound of the fire crackling at their feet was kind of soothing.
“We never had a proper fire in our house in Louisiana. There were fireplaces in the bedrooms upstairs, but we never used them. I think because Momma had no idea how to light one.”
She was talking now so she wouldn’t think. Throughout the day the tremble in her pinky finger had come back time and time again. Her arm had twisted with each tremble, something new that utterly terrified her. That, along with everything else, had her in a quiet but panicked mess that she didn’t want to talk about.
Her mother’s illness had been masked for years by her drinking problem. Everything that had gone wrong with her, the slurred speech, the falls, the tremors, all of it was put down to alcoholism. Until she fell that day Marie had tried to escape for the very first, and only, time. As the daughter that was left to be the caretaker, Marie had made it her business to know the signs and symptoms. She’d made it her business to know what might happen to her mother as time progressed.
She’d learned it was an odd illness that might pop up with one symptom but not another. Some people developed symptoms when they were young, while others would develop it later in life. Much later, like in their 60s later. But here she was, with a tremor, with insomnia, and now, an inability to smell or taste anything.
Matteo hadn’t asked her if she was able to smell anything today, and she hadn’t volunteered anything. She’d wait until this was over, and she’d go back to see Dr. Murphy. He’d take care of her. There was no need to worry Matteo with this, he had enough on his plate right now.
He hadn’t come right out and said it in a while, but they both knew someone had put a contract out on her. Someone wanted her dead. Well, if they waited long enough, the disease would kill her for free, no contract necessary. She’d be the one to pay the price, not whoever wanted her dead.
A tiny little voice, deep down inside, told her it was Celeste. She remembered the way the woman had looked at her the last time they were together. She’d seen the threat in the other woman’s eyes, but she didn’t want to say anything about that either. She couldn’t remember now if she’d told Matteo his aunt had come to visit her. It was before the accident, and some things slipped her mind now. That was one of them.
She rolled into his arms and put her arm over his waist.
“Are you awake?” she whispered softly. She didn’t want to wake him up if he was asleep.
“No, my brain just isn’t aware of that yet. My body is most definitely asleep.” He chuckled as he answered and slid his own arm over to her. He grasped her chin and pulled her face up for a kiss in the shadows cast by the fire. “What’s up?”
“Just can’t sleep.” A groan of frustration accompanied her answer. “I don’t want to take any more of those sleeping pills, and I shouldn’t need to after today’s workout, but I’ve been here for ages now and my brain won’t shut up.”
“What’s on your mind?” His eyes remained closed, even though he spoke as if he was wide awake too.
“I don’t know. A lot of things. I want to go back and have a look at that town where we got groceries if the snow has cleared off the driveway tomorrow. And I’d like to visit some of the sights here. I never thought about coming out here, but I was reading this book today, all about the state and its tourist attractions, and there’s quite a bit I’d like to see. How long are we staying?”
“Until the owner tells us to leave, as far as I’m concerned. I’m still connected to New York through email and instant messages, phone calls too, of course. But it’s nice out here, not having to drive to ten different places in one day, spending all this time with you. I don’t have time for that back home, but out here, I can spend every moment of the day with you.”
“It has been nice,” she agreed with a grin. “Even if we aren’t exactly alone.”
“Anton’s only watching the perimeter, babe, not us.” He rolled over onto his stomach, the way he usually slept, and blew air out softly. “Let’s get some sleep.”
“Sure, honey,” she responded with sympathy. “You get to sleep. You’ve had a lot of sleepless nights in the last few months.”
She wouldn’t point out that most of those were over her, or that she hadn’t slept well recently either. He didn’t need her pointing out the obvious. When his breathing changed and he started to snore softly, she got out of bed and tiptoed downstairs. She wasn’t going to sleep, so she might as well read.
She went into the kitchen, poured a cup of juice, took that into the living room, and put the glass down to poke at the fireplace. She added a new log to the embers and waited for the wood to catch before she added another piece. Once the fire was going again, she went to the couch, stretched a blue blanket down over the leather, and then grabbed another thick one made from fleece to put over herself.
She stared at the flames for a moment, lost in thoughts of Matteo. She’d come down to make sure her tossing and turning didn’t keep him awake. It was a way of saying I love you, without saying the words, because you didn’t always have to say those words to say it. Or so she’d learned in her time with him. He said it when he looked out all of the windows when he thought she wasn’t looking, or when he brought her home a dish he wanted her to try from some restaurant she’d never considered going to because she didn’t know they existed. He wanted her to try new things and explore the world, and that was his form of I love you.
Even keeping her locked up, or way out here in the middle of nowhere was his version of I love you. She put her head on the pillow with a contented smile and started to read by the light of the fire. She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until the sound of the alarm woke her up. A loud piercing noise was accompanied by the sound of pounding feet from upstairs. She pushed up off the couch and stood in front of the fire, waiting on one of them to tell her what to do.
“It’s alright, it’s just a bear,” Anton said when he made it down the steps after Matteo.
“A bear?” she asked, her eyes wide. She’d never seen a bear. “Where is it?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mazza, I mean, Marie.” He blushed when he said her name, but she ignored it, as she knew he’d appreciate it. “It’s a grizzly. I saw it coming on the property but thought it would wander away before it got too close.”
The noise suddenly stopped and Matteo came in. “I’ve turned the alarm off for now. What was it?”
“A grizzly. It might still be out there if you want to see it.” Anton went to the living room windows and pointed. “Out there, it pushed against the wooden slats of the fence until a couple broke and it got through. We’ll have to go into town tomorrow and get a panel to replace that section.”
Marie moved up beside him to look out of the window. The bear had stood up and was scratching its back against another panel of the fence, totally oblivious to the fact that the alarm had gone off, now that it was silent again. Marie held her breath as if even the slightest puff of air against the window would frighten the animal away.