Shooting someone was bothering her. Ben wondered how in the hell he was supposed to reassure a teenage girl about doing something violent. The last time he’d interacted with a teenage girl for anything longer than ordering fast food, he’d been a teenager himself. Now they were like an alien species to him.
“Unless he’s been deployed to a combat zone, no.”
“He hasn’t.” She paused again. “Have you?”
“Been deployed? Yes.”
“To a combat zone?”
“More than once.”
“So you’ve shot at people.”
“Yes.”
“And hit them?”
“I was good at my job.” Let her infer from that what she would. She was a kid, so he wasn’t going to spell things out in detail for her. He glanced over at Sela, wondering when it would occur to her to rescue him. Even normal people had problems dealing with teenagers, and he hadn’t been normal for a while now.
“I think I shot someone,” she confided.
“I hope so. A bullet wound would make it easier to identify the gang.”
“You don’t think I killed him?”
“With a .22? Not likely. Possible, but not likely.”
Then she went off on a tangent he hadn’t anticipated. “So you think I should get a bigger gun?”
He sent another look at Sela, and a mental message: Rescue me! Now!
He sucked at mental messages, because she kept chatting with the other two as they washed and dried the dishes. “What I think is that I wish I’d been there instead of you two. Whether or not you’re armed and how you’re armed is a personal decision for you and your grandmother.” And in a perfect world, there wouldn’t be war, and a teenage girl wouldn’t be asking him about weapons. The world wasn’t perfect and never would be, but knowing that didn’t make him less uncomfortable.
“I wish you’d been there, too,” she said, and thank God that seemed to end the conversation because she had nothing else to offer, and neither did he.
Sela looked over at him and smiled, a soft smile that went all the way through him.
Chapter Twenty
Ben carried Carol back to her bed, over her protests, then he and Sela said goodnight to the others. She put on her coat and gloves and they walked out to their vehicles. “I’ll follow you home,” he said.
She gave a start of surprise, but then since yesterday afternoon he’d been doing things that surprised her. She started to say she’d be okay, then realized that though she didn’t know who had tried to steal the gasoline, they certainly knew who she was, and might have vengeance on their minds. She might not be okay, going home alone. Think strategically, she reminded herself.
The short distance to her house took only a minute. Ben pulled into the driveway behind her; as they walked up to the porch, a speck of white drifted in front of her face, then another. She stopped and looked up at the delicate flakes floating down from the darkness. “It’s snowing,” she said with mild surprise. With everything that had happened during the past couple of days, she hadn’t thought of the possibility of snow.
Snow in November wasn’t unusual, just a signal that though it was technically still autumn, winter didn’t necessarily agree. There would still be good days, mild and sunny, even in January and February, but by and large people should be getting ready. In normal times that meant wrapping the outside faucets to protect against freezing. This year, things were both more simple and more complicated.
Still . . . the first snow of the season was always a little magical, no matter how light. This wasn’t a storm, it was a silent downward spiral of flakes, peaceful in the still night. She stood there for a moment, her face upturned, a smile curving her lips. She wasn’t a nature fanatic but she did enjoy the seasons, and this moment in particular. Without thinking she reached for his hand; it wasn’t until the pause before he carefully folded his fingers around hers that she realized anew how wary he still was with people.
But he was holding her hand, the heat of his palm burning through her gloves. Though he might not feel the same as she did about the first snow, he was willing to stand there with her while she enjoyed it.
“Isn’t this great?” she asked, and felt the glance he arrowed down at her.
“You like the snow?”
“I like the first snow,” she said, smiling. “It’s new and special, and listen to how quiet everything is. But if it’s still here tomorrow morning, it’ll be a pain in the rear end.”
She couldn’t be sure, in the darkness, but the flashlight cast enough light that she thought he might be smiling a little. However small a smile she could get from him, she’d take it.
“That’s true. If we hadn’t given out the gasoline today, everyone would be walking and there wouldn’t be a problem. But if people get out on the road tomorrow—”
“Ouch.” She winced, thinking that her timing sucked. In normal times the roads would be plowed and treated with salt brine, but “normal” had changed, and no snowplows would be running.
“It is what it is. Everyone here has driven on snow before.”
He hadn’t pulled his hand away, but she thought she’d held on to him long enough and let her hand drop; it was better to break the contact herself than to push him out of his comfort zone.
He opened the screen door and they went up on the porch, his hand on the small of her back, then he held the flashlight while she unlocked the door. Seizing her courage, she asked, “Would you like to come in?” All he could do was tell her no, and though she would be disappointed she wouldn’t die from it. After the way he’d kissed her she knew he was attracted to her, and at the same time she also knew he’d likely had his fill of people today.
“Yes.”
She was a little startled and a lot happy. They would talk and likely make out some, the thought of which sizzled through her veins. That was what she was thinking, but when she started to go inside, he stopped her with a touch on her arm. “If this is too soon, say so.” His voice was rough, strained, as if he thought she might send him away.
Sela’s heart gave a giant leap, then everything in her paused, as if her body waited on her decision. That? Now? She knew what he was saying, and wondered why she hadn’t already realized it. Why else would he have come to Carol’s house—bearing a gift of bacon—and actually sat down to eat with them? Taking care of security was one thing, but socializing was a giant step for him to take.
Her heart was booming in her chest. What was “too soon”? She’d been attracted to him for years. They hadn’t dated, hadn’t done any of the traditional romantic things, but in the world they found themselves in now perhaps a can of bacon meant more than any box of chocolates or an expensive dinner. A hot shower outweighed a movie, and tending wounds was priceless. Not only that, in this new world life was more precarious than it had been before, and tomorrow was only a possibility, not the given most people had considered it.
“No,” she said quietly, and leaned her head against his arm. “It isn’t too soon.” If she didn’t seize life, it could slip away from her. Today she could have died without ever knowing what it was like to be with him, and she wouldn’t take that chance again. He had offered, and she accepted.