She sat still and tense, staring at the snapping and hissing logs burning brightly in the fireplace as the warmth they produced licked at her cheeks.

A dog lay on his side nearby, his eyes half-closed as he was being lulled into a dreamy haze by the heat but when she glanced down at him and caught his eyes, his tail offered a friendly but lazy thump-thump against the hardwood floor for her benefit.

At one point in her life, this would be a wonderfully peaceful moment to enjoy but a heavy dread had crippled her over the past couple of months and had left her bleak and numb to almost everything around her.

It should've been a happy time for her. The baby she carried was just starting to make itself known with the slightest bulge of her belly. The one responsible for this was a good man. She had a lovely home with him now and he made certain all her needs were met. Unfortunately, there wasn't much room in her mind for happiness, contentment, or peace.

In these times when she was alone and all was silent around her, she couldn't stop herself from obsessively brooding over the dire situation she, her country, and the world beyond the walls was in. Her mind often turned, as it was doing now, to the women in the outside world who were expecting just as she was. Those women, the little ones growing inside them, and the men they loved so dearly would all be snuffed out in the most horrifying way imaginable. They had no idea of the terror and suffering that would soon be upon them. The thought brought her a tremendous amount of despair.

Was there anything she could do to prevent this? Did she really want to if it meant the future might be a safer place for her own child and that she would be free to stay here and raise it, and hopefully many more, with her husband? Her face hardened at that last thought. She felt instantly sick with herself.

Noise from the other room pulled her from her thoughts and she scowled. He was about to leave. She spent much time tormented by guilt and fear but he was good at distracting her from those feelings. His presence was a great comfort to her. She didn't want him to go.

She was immensely grateful that they were heading into winter. The heavy snow and fierce, blustery winds buffeting the house kept him stuck inside most of the day except for the couple of trips he made out daily to care for the farm's animals and to the woodshed to replenish their firewood supply. He liked to keep the house comfortably warm and toasty for them and never let their woodpile run out.

She turned to her left, her vacant stare fixed on his back after he passed behind her and headed toward the door. He didn't even glance at the coat rack as he reached over for his cap. He quickly licked his lips as he stepped over to his boots which had been left by the door. She stood and walked to him.

He turned and they regarded each other silently for a moment until she moved past him to grab a more appropriate hat for the weather, one lined with soft rabbit's fur with flaps to cover his ears, and draped a scarf and a large pair of gloves over her arm.

Amusement pushed his lips into an impish smile and he bent so she could reach his head.

She took his cap, placed it under her arm, and fit the warmer one atop his head. She then wrapped the scarf snugly around his neck, tucking the ends into his coat, and held each glove up for him to slip his hands in. He straightened and she looked him over before reaching up and touching her fingers to his lips. This cold weather had been murder on them. His hands, too, even with the gloves.

She retreated to a side table near the sofa and picked up a small jar of balm she kept there just for these moments then returned to him. He bent again, smiling sweetly at her as she smoothed it across his lips with a finger.

In truth, the man would occasionally forget to put medicine on his chapped lips or care for his hands, but he would never be so foolish as to walk out into a blizzard unprepared. But he had learned early on that even if she didn't appear to, she watched him carefully and when he did "forget" to tend to himself, she made sure to do so for him.

It had become a routine right before bed for her to take his big hands in her tiny ones and rub them well with lotion. While she thoroughly enjoyed those rough hands on her skin, she didn't want him to be in any discomfort so she made it a priority to do this every night. If she noticed soreness from his daily labor, she massaged it away unprompted. Any scratch, splinter, or blister, she would patch up. And, of course, she made sure to dress him appropriately before he headed out into the cold. He relished those times of care.

When she was through, he leaned down and rested his cheek against hers. She pressed into him and patted his other cheek. When her hand fell, he pulled away and gave her an appreciative peck on her forehead then turned to the door. He slipped his foot into a boot and then the other and looked back to her.

She stared unhappily at him.

"I'll be back soon," he said with a kind smile. She nodded. "We'll have some tea when I'm done."

"And a hot bath later," she said.

"Sounds good." He stopped to listen as a particularly strong gust rattled the door behind him. "Right when I get back. The very moment I get back," he said with a chuckle. "We'll have a long soak together." She nodded again and looked at him miserably, not wanting him to leave her alone with her thoughts.

He hesitated with a hand on the doorknob. "Do something productive while I'm gone, Historia. It's a good way to keep yourself from your worries. Time will pass faster, too."

She looked around lethargically.

"Done with your chores for the morning?" he asked and then thought for a moment. "I have a glove that needs to be darned."

"Wouldn't you rather your mother do it? I'm not very good at that yet."

"That's not what I've heard. Last time I was in town, I overheard her bragging to her friends about how quickly "her youngest girl" is picking up those lessons she's been giving you. She also said how much better you are at it than she was at your age."

This brought a rare and almost giddy smile to her face. "She really said that?"

He nodded. "She's always bragging on you. If you don't want to do that, could you check over the dog? I felt a small tangle in the fur under his right front leg yesterday. I meant to take care of it last night but it slipped my mind."

"I will," she said and looked in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm going to try to get a stew going and we'll have some of that good bread you made with it."

His face brightened. "Wonderful," he said. "Perfect meal for this type of weather." She looked doubtfully at him. "You'll do fine. You've helped me make that dish many times. Your cooking has gotten a lot better. You've improved fast. You'll be an excellent cook with more practice." He grinned now. "And how could you not? You have the best teacher," he said, laying a hand to his chest.

Her eyes softened just a bit and a ghost of a smile graced her lips. "Thank you," she said. "I'll mend your glove tonight after dinner. Will you read to me while I do it?"

"Gladly," he said. "I'll read to you as long as you'd like." He was disappointed to see that her face was already falling back into that blank, miserable stare but he smiled warmly at her anyway. "I'll be back soon," he said with a reassuring nod.

She nodded back. "For a bath and then tea."

"For a bath and tea," he said before shooing her away from the door, setting his face into a determined look, and bravely stepping outside.

*Thanks for reading. Comments are welcome and appreciated.