Chapter Three
When Matt awoke the next morning, he wasn't certain at first where he was. It was dark, near to three a.m. or around that area by his reckoning. And he was seldom incorrect. Years of living in the mountains has instilled in him a very accurate internal clock. But it was nothing next to his father's.
He rolled over onto his stomach in bed, finding to his surprise that he was naked.
Then it all came back to him in a flash. The fire, the warmth creeping into the room like a carress. Robin, her pajama top buttoned all wrong, bringing him coffee and sitting next to him in the dark. Their first kiss. And then the rug in front of the fireplace.
He'd been unwilling to stop kissing her for even a few moments, unbuttoning her shirt and sliding the soft flannel drawstring pants down without looking. Robin had responded beautifully, surprising him with her intense passion. He hadn't guessed that she was capable of such feeling. But the way she tore at his clothes, flinging them aside to touch the flesh beneath, and the way she'd pulled away from his lips finally to slide her gentle pink tongue down his chest, his stomach, and farther.
He shivered, suddenly feeling a stab of regret. No woman had ever reacted to him that way. Not in his entire short history of dating. "Mmmmm." he heard someone moan quietly next to him in bed. It was Robin, of course, curled up on her side under the covers. Matt remembered that they were in her room, having moved there some time after making love for the second time. Tentatively, he slid an arm around her waist and drew her against his body. She was warm and soft and naked, the scent of her skin bringing a rush of feeling to his entire soul. Whether or not this moment was right or wrong, good or bad, destructive or the beginning of something wonderful, he didn't care. All Matt knew was that it felt indescribably wonderful to have her there. The past few weeks had been lonely and awful, and he'd wept for his father in bed at night when no one could see him and he had no reason to be strong. Robin seemed to understand that he needed her.
"Are you awake?" she asked sleepily. Matt kissed the side of her neck in answer, not quite knowing what to say. She rolled over to face him, and even though it was pitch black and he couldn't see her face, he knew she was looking at him. Silently, she leaned forward and kissed him, slow and intimate and comfortable. He enfolded her into his arms, pulling her so close and tight that she gasped.
"I have no idea what led up to this." he whispered when they broke apart. Robin snuggled her face into his chest, rubbing her nose gently against the soft golden hair.
"I've wanted you for years." she answered.
Matt would have been lying if he said he hadn't been attracted to her as well. What man wouldn't be? She was beautiful and strong and smart and had a wonderful sense of humor. You could trust her with your life out on the trail, and she was easy to get along with for months at a time when the winter snows effectively shut down the road. But he'd never guessed that she might have feelings for him other than simple companionship.
"I've loved you, in fact." she continued, slightly muffled by his flesh against her lips.
"Loved me?" Matt asked, and was distressed to hear a note of discomfort in his voice.
"Yes, Matthew Hawkes. I love you. I've loved you since the first day we met, when Jesse brought you and Cody here in that junky old blue pickup he used to love."
"I remember."
"You were so shy and sweet. I couldn't stop staring at you."
"I thought you were one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. You had on a tight little sweater and blue jeans with faded knees."
"I still own the sweater..."
"Glad to hear it." Matt said, because he didn't quite know what else to say at the moment. Robin laughed quietly and drew back from him, leaning over to flick on a small lamp next to the bed. It was an orange lava lamp that Matt recognized as a Christmas gift from Cody last year. In its dim, shivering light Robin looked like an angel, her hair tangled and wild around her oval-shaped face. She gracefully slid one of her long legs over his stomach and straddled him, leaning down to brush his forehead with a gentle kiss.
'He really is handsome.' Robin thought to herself, looking down at him. Matt was utterly flawless. Golden hair slightly messed, blue eyes sleepy and welcoming and gentle as he stared up at her. The muscles of his chest and stomach were well-developed and beautiful from years of chopping wood and shoveling snow, and Robin was reminded of the statue David. "Please don't feel weird about this. You shouldn't. I've wanted it for quite awhile."
"So have I, I think." Matt said, and as he spoke the words he realized that they were true. Robin lay down in his arms again, turning her head to watch the orange lava move slowly up the inside of the lamp, then cool and descend. She could hear Matt's heartbeat against her ear, and it was the most peaceful rhythm she'd ever felt.
Three hours later, Robin was still sound asleep when Matt rose for the day. It was early. He pulled on a pair of gray sweat pants and padded out into the kitchen, planning to start the coffee.
Cody was already there, pouring a bowl of cereal at the table.
"Hey."
"Morning." Matt said, opening the freezer and pulling out the battered old can of coffee. Cody looked like he hadn't slept very well. He was dressed in the faded blue pajamas that he'd had since high school, his dark hair falling into his eyes, almost but not quite hiding the fact that he'd been crying. Matt filled the coffee pot with water and turned it on, then sat down across from his brother at the table.
"You ok?" he asked. Cody shook his head, listlessly stirring his cereal.
"I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night. God I miss Dad. I feel like I've been punched in the stomach." "I know. Me too."
"Matt?"
"Yeah, kid?"
Cody chewed his lip, not meeting his older brother's eyes.
"You remember when you told me about Dad?"
It was a touchy subject. Matt leaned back in the chair, wincing as the cold steel shocked his bare back.
"I remember."
"I'm sorry. About, you know, hitting you. I was just -"
"Don't you dare, Cody!"
"What? I said I was sorry!"
Matt slammed his hand down on the table, causing the younger boy to jump.
"No, damn it! You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for! Don't you dare apologize to me! You reacted with grief, I can't be angry at you for that. Besides, you hit like a girl."
Cody stared at him for a few minutes, then broke out in a grin. It was impossible to be too serious around Matt, even when he felt like shit.
"You suck." he told his brother, "Thanks."
"Shut up." Matt told him fondly, and got up to pour a cup of coffee.
Cody finished his cereal and grabbed a bananna from the wooden bowl in the center of the table. He peeled it methodically, watching his brother.
"So, did you sleep well last night?" he asked casually. Something in his voice made Matt turn around to level a gaze at him.
"Yeah."
"That's good. That's really good. Because I was worried about you, you know."
Matt took a slow sip of coffee, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"And why is that, may I ask?"
"Well, it was pretty cold last night."
"Go on, damn it. Get to the punch line."
"I thought you might get frost bite."
Matt threw a sponge at him, which Cody ducked laughingly. Frost Bite was Robin's Ranger handle. Apparently they hadn't been as discreet as he thought.
"You little weed. Did you tell anyone?"
"Of course not. Didn't have to. She squeaks like an excited chipmunk."
"Oh Christ. Thanks a lot, man."
Normalcy returned, slowly and by degrees. The snows came that afternoon, and the tracking dogs were brought inside to protect them from the killing cold. Izzy made steak, turning the seasoned meat meticulously every ten minutes while Frank and Cody played cards at the battered kitchen table. Robin curled up on the floor, her head pillowed on the side of a big German Shepherd named Gracie, while Matt chopped wood in the falling snow outside the back door. No one had anything in particular to say - it was impossible to express what they were all feeling.
"Food's done." Izzy announced without enthusiasm. His cooking was, unlike Robins, excellent. But no one felt much like eating. A sense of gloom permeated the atmosphere - even the dogs seemed to feel it. Izzy had made a few half-hearted attempts at humor, aided by the usually silent Frank, but they gave up after an hour of listlessness.
The darkest parts of winter would be upon them soon, the long nights and short gray days stretching into eternity. Hikers too stubborn or too foolhardy to know better would come up into the mountains even during blizzards, putting everyone's life in danger. Criminals, drawn by a promise of vast wastelands in which to hide, would arrive with varying trails of misery behind them. Orphaned animals would need tending. Avalanche sites would require posting and quite possibly charges would need to be set to safely trigger a few of them. Winter was always busy, but no one seemed to have any heart for the labor except Matt.
It was bitter cold outside where he stood, swinging the axe with a practiced fierceness that no log, however seasoned or gnarled, could withstand. He was sweating, but wisely did not remove the thick white coat that kept out the wind. It would have been suicide to do so even for a little while. Hypothermia was a quiet and deceptively gentle killer, and had claimed more lives than could even be counted. It was what had probably killed his father. Matt took an odd sort of comfort from the fact that, if hypothermia had indeed been the cause of death, Jesse would not have suffered too terribly. In the final stages of the condition one's body simply shut down, went to sleep, a feeling of drowsy warmth stealing across the brain as life slipped away.
Life, drawn up and out of the shell it had occupied. The light maybe leaving Jesse's blue eyes forever as his body sagged. The part of his brain that knew all the words to the stories he used to tell, the part of him that likes sweet pickles and Belgian beer, the portion of his mind that knew how to play the guitar all shutting down up there alone in the mountains.
The axe fell from Matt's hand, and he sank to his knees next to a freshly split log. He wasn't a man who prayed. It seemed too much like weakness, like begging for help from a fairy tale. But he covered his suddenly streaming eyes with a gloved hand and drew in a shaking breath, trying to calm himself.
Why not follow? Why not walk off, now, into the hills along the old trails that he and his father had blazed together so many years ago? Maybe find that old pine tree again, the one with the huge spreading base and the wide hollow beneath it. Just lie down, close your eyes, let the cold do its steady, ancient work on this poor mammalian wreck and draw out all the pain. Who knows? Maybe death would be like going to sleep after a very long day. Maybe.
"Matt?" He looked up. It was Robin, bundled into her sleek snowsuit and that silly red hat her mother had given her last year. She held out her hand to him, illuminated by the yellow light from the kitchen behind her.
"Time for dinner." she said softly, and Matt rose to his feet. He reached out, took her strong little paw in his huge gloved hand, feeling lost and scared and terribly lonely. Robin had the grace not to comment, not to wipe away the tears that sparkled in the corners of his eyes or draw him into a comforting hug. It would have hurt his pride just then. And so she merely drew him in, out of the cold.
They shut the door against the gathering night, and had dinner in the crowded living room with the dogs.