Post series
Ch. 1 Winter
It's cold now. A thick blanket of snow covers everything in their small corner of Wyoming. The wind howls and cuts like ice. He comes in from the porch, carrying an armload of firewood. He closes the door quickly behind him to stop the cold air from invading the cabin. He stomps his feet, trying to recover some feeling and knock off the remaining snow. Weather or no, the horse has to be tended to. The sun set half an hour or so ago and he knows the night will bring even colder temperatures and more snow. He carefully lays the firewood next to the fireplace. A healthy fire is already snapping away there. He appreciates it's warmth for a moment before turning away.
He removes his hat and coat and puts them away. He pulls off his boots and leaves them by the door. No need to track snow and ice through the cabin. He returns to the fire and watches the flames momentarily, briefly entranced by the color and pattern. Letting out a sigh, he runs his hand over his hair. He turns towards the couch. She is laying on one side, her knees pulled up into an almost fetal position. At some point, she pulled the blanket over herself. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open the slightest bit. He can hear the low, easy sound of her breathing. He's not sure how long she's been asleep.
The orange glow from the fireplace makes her looks almost like an other worldly being. Her skin and golden hair glow in the firelight. The only movement is the gentle inhale and exhale of her chest. A fond smile crosses his lips. In that moment, she looks peaceful and at ease in a way she rarely does. She's a person that is always in motion. Even when she is sitting still, she will always fidget or move in some manner. Stillness is a not a character trait. Neither is silence. She always has something to say. Now, in the quiet warmth of the cabin, sleep has overtaken her earlier than normal. He knows that work has been hectic. She comes in wrapped in fatigue nearly every night. He doesn't mind. It makes her want to sit and and talk to him. She will put her feet or her head in his lap and go on about her day or listen to him talk about his. It's the easy give and take that has been the hallmark of their relationship since the very beginning when he hired her all those years ago.
He reaches down and touches her hair with the lightest of touches. It's feather soft and he knows it won't wake her. When she falls asleep like this, it's usually a secure sleep that can be hard to rouse her from. His hand moves from her hair to the smooth skin of her cheek. His finger lightly traces a pattern down to her jaw. Pulling his hand away, he gently removes the blanket. Folding it in half, he tosses it soundlessly over the back of the couch. He carefully slides his arms under her and lifts her slowly from the couch. She makes a small noise and settles against his chest. Cautiously, he makes his way to the bedroom, careful not to stumble or bump the walls. He lays her on the bed with the gentlest of care. He waits as she settles against the pillow. For a second, he thinks she might wake up. Her eyelids flutter and open slightly. But, then they close and the mattress cradles her as sleep keeps its hold over her.
He pulls the blankets up around her, knowing she hates to be cold. He adds an extra one because he knows how frigid the air is supposed to be tonight. She lets out a sigh and it brings another smile to his face. There was a period in his life where he rarely smiled. Now, he smiles frequently. His life is settled and calm. He knows peace and happiness. He is content. Most of it is because of her. It doesn't scare him to admit it anymore. He watches her sleep for a few more minutes before he turns away to begin his own preparations for bed. They don't normally turn in so early but he welcomes the chance to lay in the dark quiet and warm himself with the feeling of love that blossoms inside of him whenever she is close.
He makes quick work of showering and sliding into bed next to her. He considers it a luxury now. Once upon a time, he wouldn't have dared imagine she might share his bed on a nightly basis. It's something he has sworn never to take for granted. He's made that mistake in the past. He's a better man now. A wiser man. Experience has made him so. He knows now to take stock of the small things. Life isn't made up of big moments. Life is made up of the small moments in between the big things that make up the every day facets of a life.
Almost as if by magnetic pull, she unconsciously moves closer to him. Her face is tucked into his neck and he can feel the light caress of her breath on his bare skin there. He closes his eyes and allows himself to drift away listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing.