Alleghany stared in the mirror at her bloodshot eyes, created from a combination of sleeplessness and alcohol. She wanted to sleep the liquor off, but the thought of him trying something while she was asleep plagued her and she preferred to wait until he was asleep first.
Not that he had tried anything since the truck, but that's what worried her. Why hadn't he? Before she'd ran away from the cabin, he hadn't been shy about expressing his needs, at least after the lights had gone out. Was this some new way to torture her? She was positive he would wait until her guard was down and then he'd mercilessly take what she wasn't willing to give to prove his dominance over her.
She saw when the door opened behind her in the mirror and she spun around and gripped the edge of the dresser, feeling trapped and cornered.
He didn't even seem to notice her though. He just snatched up a pillow and one of the blankets and started to leave the room.
She couldn't help forgetting her policy of not talking to him in her deep curiosity. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"
"I'm moving out to the couch."
"Why?" She threw the question out like a dart.
He looked back but still avoided eye contact. "So maybe you can actually get some sleep."
He knew he was the reason for her sleeplessness. Why had he turned meek all of a sudden? He didn't have a kind bone in his body. He was up to something dastardly, and whatever his motive turned out to be, she knew it would be purely selfish.
Once he was out of the room, she drug the small dresser in front of the door, in case he changed his mind in the middle of the night. It wouldn't stop him from coming in if he wanted in, but it would warn her of his presence.
She eagerly crawled into bed and went straight into a heavy sleep, thankful for the respite.
sss
The next day after she had come out of the bedroom, Jackson used a long, exposed blade to pull shaving cream off his jaw. It wasn't the easiest razor to shave with, but it had belonged to his father and his father before him. Not as safe as the razor nowadays but steeped in tradition.
He normally wore a little stubble, so he wouldn't have to cut too close, but he made his cheeks as smooth as a baby's bottom today. He finished by patting on cologne and greasing and styling his hair. He looked decent. Maybe even sharper than he had at the wedding.
He spent an hour in the woods going to all the best places for the prettiest flowers until he had a bouquet that looked as if it could have come from a florist. It had been extra hard work because the flowers were mostly gone for the year.
She was sweeping the porch when he got back. He noted the dogs watched her, wagging their tails in a friendly way as if they were hoping for her to give them something. That was a change, but Alleghany was paying them no mind.
He awkwardly thrust out the bouquet when he got close enough.
"What in the world is this supposed to be?" she asked, nose wrinkled in revulsion, as if he held out rotten fish instead of fragrant blooms.
"An apology."
She looked at him incredulously. Did he really think flowers was going to make up for holding her here against her will. For the brutality he had displayed?
She snatched the bouquet from him and threw it down on the wooden floorboards, grinding the petals under her foot to show just what she thought of that.
His jaw clenched. He was trying to be nice and she wasn't making it easy.
She saw he was angry and taunted him. "What are you going to do about it? Prove your manhood again? Cause the only thing it proved was that you're a monster and a coward."
And suddenly the anger was gone again or at least locked away for the time being. "I'm not going to do anything."
"You must think I'm pretty cheap. Buying me off with flowers ain't going to make me into your loving, little companion. I wouldn't willingly sleep with you if you brought me the hope diamond. Just because I've been with a lot of men doesn't mean I don't have standards."
He realized he had a long way to go on the road to her good graces. She was still too angry to hear anything he had to say, but at least she was talking now. That had to be progress. He went to go past her into the house and she put her broom, looking to defend herself with it. The dogs began to growl and move at the threat they perceived to their owner.
"Sit," he commanded the dogs. He took the broom from her and she quickly backed up against the house as if he was going to strike her instead. "You don't have to be afraid."
"I saw what you did to that man. You about killed him."
"I would never hit a woman though. I know I wasn't exactly gentle with you that day, but I have my limits. And for what it's worth, I am sorry. I could have handled things better."
Encouraged by the softness and earnestness in his voice, she pleaded, "Let me go. I won't take anything this time. You'll never hear from me again. Just please let me go."
His knuckles turned white so hard he gripped the broom. "I can't do that." Not when there was even a remote chance she could one day see him in a different light. He wanted to make this work. Had to make it work. The thought of failing was unacceptable.