* * *
After Sam had once again left her alone in the bedroom, Josie heaved a huge sigh of relief and hugged herself. Slowly she looked again around the room. She tried to convince herself that it was only her imagination; that it wasn't possible that this was the same room she'd dreamed about. After all, she'd never, ever been here before and it was only a dream. But she couldn't shake the feeling.
Closing her eyes, she could see the room of her dream as clearly as if it were right in front of her. It had the same rough-hewn wooden walls, the same oil lamp on the bedside table, the same print of a Georgia O'Keefe flower on the wall over the bed. Behind her was the same doorway (which led to the bathroom) and at the foot of the bed against the wall facing it was the same tall walnut dresser with matching oval mirror above it.
And yes, it was the exact same quilt on the bed. It was what some would call a "Crazy Quilt": just patches of off white and pastel print pieces sewn together in no apparent pattern. Every so often there was a little tuft of tied off-white yarn holding the batting in place.
But it was the content of her dream that really had her head spinning, if only just for its apparent impossibility, even, and actually especially because of her current circumstances�
In her dream, she had been only half awake; the bright sun shone through the window, trying to rouse her. Trying to ignore the call of morning, she snuggled more deeply into the comfort of the quilt�and found that it was not the blanket that made her feel so snuggly warm. It was the male form spooned in behind her, pressed up closely from shoulder to ankle. His arm was protectively around her and it instinctively tightened to pull her even closer to him as she stirred. She could feel his breath whispering across her ear as he drifted back to sleep and she felt wonderful, content. And there was absolutely no question that the man from her dream had been Sam.
Sighing sadly at the hopelessness of that dream ever coming true, she got back to the task of changing into warmer clothes. Stripping off her work suit, she tried on the pants first. They felt slightly tight on her, but knew that in a couple of minutes of her wearing them, they would fit fine; they were just a bit stiff from lack of use. Then she tried on the boots; they also fit closely enough to get by with. Staring at Sam's sweater spread across the bed, she tried to remember if she'd ever seen him wear it, but then realized it would have been out of season for such a heavy sweater by the time she'd entered his class in March. She picked it up and held it to her face, breathing in deeply. Oh yes, it smelled like him�there was even a hint of his aftershave on the collar. Climbing inside of it, Josie found the sweater was made of a soft, brushed cotton on the inside�and with Sam's scent surrounding her she felt almost if his arms were around her.
Standing up, the sweater fell � of the way to her knees and well past her hands. Shoving the sleeves back, she rolled them a few times until her hands emerged again. Looking down at herself, she did have to admit that this was infinitely warmer and more sensible for the impending weather.
Josie thought about Sam and his strange behavior again. It was as if� he'd fall back into the habit of caring about her and then he'd catch himself doing it�and be angry with himself for caring at all. And so far, he'd done it several times today.
By now, Josie was so confused as to Sam's real feelings for her, she was afraid to assume anything at all. After all, it could just be that he was doing for her what he would have done for anyone in her position, she told herself silently as she studied her image in the mirror over the dresser. Her reflection told her it was still the same old Josie, except now she had a surge of conflicting emotions swimming in the depths of her eyes, and Josie knew for sure it was because of seeing Sam again. Straightening her shoulders and watching her reflection do the same; she nodded once in encouragement and then opened the door.
* * *
Trying to take his mind off of the mental picture of Josie undressing just feet away behind that closed bedroom door, he got to work cleaning the ash from the bottom of the hearth, laying in new wood and kindling, and trying to light a new fire. Kneeling beside the open area, Sam pressed both hands to the floor and leaned forward to softly blow at the smoldering kindling, trying to get it to light. After a moment, the spark flared and dribbled along the length of the kindling, starting the fire in earnest. Pushing off his hands, he brushed the thin layer of ash from them and pushed up to one knee just as he heard the bedroom door creak open.
Almost against his will, Sam turned his head to stare at Josie. His sister's jeans seemed to hug her every curve as if they'd been painted on her. He'd never seen her in anything so form fitting, even the Capri pants she used to wear at school. And he couldn't even see her backside, which was covered by the sweater. He felt his mouth water just at the prospect of what that must look like� His eyes traveled higher, thinking that her in his bulky sweater would seem less appealing than the jeans.
He was wrong. Something about the way it dwarfed her, the way it hung almost to her knees and how she'd had to roll up the sleeves to make it fit made her seem small and vulnerable. It brought out all the protective instincts in him. For just a moment, Sam fought the urge to cross the room and enfold her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. Coming to his senses, his eyes continued upward, over the swell of her breasts, softly accentuated even under the thick cotton knit. Continuing up to her face, Josie's eyes seemed huge in the gentle ambient light being cast from the growing fire behind him; her skin seemed to glow. And her hair was now softer around her face and slightly tousled from pulling the sweater on over her head.
Unbidden, Sam's mind conjured up images of being the one to remove that sweater, to see if the rest of her skin was as creamy and as kissable soft as her face seemed to be�for her hair to be tousled because of his fingers running through its silkiness, for her eyes to seem huge and glowing from his touch and for no other reason. Raw desire grew in the pit of his stomach and surprised Sam with its sudden ferocity.
Standing abruptly, he brushed the ash from his knees and turned his back to her swiftly. He knew it was only a matter of time before the feeling in the pit of his stomach moved lower, and the knowledge of that made him feel more vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, he prayed his voice wouldn't give away his feelings when he said, "Hi�ahem�glad to see everything fits okay."
Josie stared at Sam's back for a moment, watching as he puttered around the living room area straightening rugs and plumping pillows. He seemed alight with nervous energy all of a sudden and pondered over the reason for it. At least his greeting seemed non-aggressive, even if his prolonged stare was unsettling.
She responded softly, "Yes, it all seems to�thanks."
Sam's head bobbed in acknowledgement of her statement, but he still did not turn around. Instead, he walked over to the huge bookcase along the back wall, pretending to study the titles of the books, when in reality he was trying to get a handle on his wayward thoughts.
Josie followed Sam over to the bookcase, standing next to him, perusing the titles and was not at all surprised to find the bookcase filled to overflowing with classic works of all sorts. "Wow�this is quite a collection," she said, carefully pulling a hardcover copy of The Catcher in the Rye off the shelf and leafing through it.
Sam looked down at Josie for a moment in response to her comment, which was a big mistake. With her standing right next to him, he smell the fruity shampoo she always used, along with a soft, sweet scent of peach blossoms that used to drive him insane whenever she'd stand over him at his desk at South Glen. Quickly moving his line of sight back to the bookshelf, he explained, "My father has been collecting books for ages. This is just his overflow�you should see the bookshelves he has back home."
"Really?" Josie exclaimed, interested. "That must be some collection�" Flipping the book closed, she was about to slide it back on the shelf when she noticed the photo of the author J.D. Salinger on the back cover of the book. Gasping, she opened the book again, carefully checking the front inside flap of the dust jacket and the copyright page of the book.
Hearing Josie's gasp, Sam asked, "What's the matter?"
Looking up to Sam in awe, she said, "Sam, is your father aware that this is a first edition of this book?"
"What!? How do you know?" Sam looked down at the book cradled in Josie's hands.
"Well, I had a suspicion when I saw Salinger's picture on the back cover. Only the very earliest printings of this book have it. The story goes that he hated it so much, he insisted it be removed from all further printings. And this dust jacket," she said, flipping to the front end flap, "has the $3.00 price on it, which means it isn't a book club edition, because they didn't list a price. But the kicker is this," she said, opening the book back up to the copyright page and pointing with her finger. "It says right here that it's a first edition�see?"
Sam's eyes widened as he saw the words "First Edition" just above Josie's finger on the page. "Wow! No, I very much doubt he has any idea� He collects books simply because he's an avid reader, not for investment purposes. I'm sure he probably bought that at someone's yard sale years ago or something." Looking down at Josie again, he said, "How do you know so much about this stuff?"
Josie blushed a little with embarrassment. "Well, for fun one semester in college, I took a class on how to identify rare books and to grade their condition. It was really fascinating. This one is in beautiful shape, especially considering how frail the dust jacket on this particular title is rumored to be. Apparently being here at the cabin has been good for it."
She gingerly handed the book to Sam and for a moment their fingers grazed each other's. A jolt of electricity shot between them and they stared at each other for a long moment before they both turned away abruptly. Josie nervously backed off and went over to the bench seat to collect her bags. "Um�where should I put my things?"
Sam, caught up in the wonder of holding such a rare book in his hands and also in the swirling feelings cast over him by Josie, took a long moment to answer. "You can just take them into the bedroom if you want. You'll be staying in there."
"But then�where will you sleep?" Josie really hadn't meant to ask the question aloud. She was simply thinking to herself about he must have meant to sleep in there, since his things were in there, and now where would he go? Would he still want to sleep in there�with her? Her heart pounded dangerously at the idea of that, especially in light of last night's dream. She tried to reason that was probably not his intention, but if not�and that's when her mouth took over and spoke the question that occupied her brain.
The sincere confusion in Josie's voice told Sam this was not some sort of coy invitation�the kind that Lara might have offered in her position. Trying once again to force the very appealing vision of sleeping with Josie from his mind, he answered, "I brought a sleeping bag with me�I can just crash in front of the hearth on the sheepskin."
Aghast, Josie sputtered, "But�but�it's your house�I'm just the interloper�I should be the one to�"
Finally, Sam turned and made eye contact with Josie. His darkened, intense gaze silenced her mid-sentence. "Sorry, Josie. This is non-negotiable. My mother taught me to have good manners, and they dictate that when there's only one bed, the guest sleeps in it. Besides, I slept out here last night and it was perfectly comfortable." Sam internally winced at that half-truth.
"I wouldn't exactly call myself a guest�" Josie muttered.
"Josie�" Sam said with his "teacher's warning" tone. "It's settled. Besides, you're hurt. I'm not going to let you sleep on a hard floor with that egg on the back of your head." Then he placed the book in his hand carefully back into its place on the shelf and walked over to her, relieving her of her baggage. "And besides, I thought I told you that you weren't allowed to carry this stuff?" Then he walked off toward the bedroom, leaving Josie to trail behind him.
Following Sam, she continued to protest, "Sam�come on. They probably weigh ten pounds total. I'm not dying�I just bumped my head. Really."
"Well, I'm not taking any chances, and neither should you. The last thing either of us needs is an emergency trip to the hospital at the height of the storm. I highly doubt it'd be much fun spending Christmas laid up in bed in a strange place like that."
Josie paled and stopped in her tracks in the doorway of the bedroom. In the meantime, Sam carefully laid her bags onto the bed and turned around to find a dejected-looking Josie slumped against the doorframe. "What?" he asked.
Looking up to see Sam watching her, she tried to cover her misery. "Oh, nothing."
Sam simply raised an eyebrow at her and continued to stare.
Sighing sadly, Josie admitted, "Your mention of Christmas just made me realize that there are a lot of people who are going to be very worried about me�and I don't have any way of letting them know I'm okay. I�feel bad that they will be so worried when I'm really all right."
Sam put a hand on her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that when you asked about the phone earlier. I�I have a cell phone in the Blazer. You can use that to let people know where you are. I'll go get it."
As Sam went to retrieve his cellular phone from the car, his mind was awhirl with emotions. As much as he'd tried to hold onto his anger, as soon as he'd seen Josie standing there in his sweater and those painted-on blue jeans, the thought had vanished from his mind. It was hard to stay mad at someone who wouldn't give you any reasons to be that way. Other than standing up to him when he had been yelling at her, Josie hadn't said or done one thing that he could honestly find fault with.
And what was more, the longer he was around her, the more he seemed to see the "old Josie" in her�the one he had once thought her to be. She still blushed prettily whenever he noticed her, and she was still just as excited and animated about anything having to do with literature, as evidenced by her reaction to his father's bookshelf and in finding that first edition book.
So, Sam wondered as he reached inside the Blazer and pulled the phone from its charging cradle, what did this mean? Did it mean that Josie really was the person he'd once believed her to be? Or did it simply mean he hadn't learned a thing from the heartache he'd suffered all this time and he was just as gullible and vulnerable to her charms? It was an answer he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
* * *
Josie stared after Sam as he walked out the door of the cabin toward the Blazer. There he went, being all nice and considerate to her again, and she didn't know what she was supposed to think. She smiled softly as she thought back to a few minutes before when they'd been in front of the bookcase. For those few moments, things had been like they once were: camaraderie, friendship, and love of a common interest. And there had been more, oh yes. Something they used to have even when they hadn't wanted it to be there: chemistry. She felt it every time he looked at her, every time he touched her, and from his reaction when their fingers had touched when she'd passed the book to him, he'd felt it too.
Gosh, she'd been standing so close to him that she could feel his body heat warming her. And why was it that when he smiled down at her, the rest of the world seemed to dim?
'Oh, Josie,' she warned herself, 'don't set yourself up for a fall again. You're reading things that aren't there into his reactions� The reaction you should be paying attention to was his near revulsion of you in the car, his snapping at her when she'd asked for the phone. Those were his real emotions�the rest is just "manners", as he had called them.' Remembering the icy look in his eyes when he'd told her, "Don't bother apologizing," made her shiver involuntarily. Idly, she ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to rub the coldness from her.
* * *
As Sam sprinted back in from the car, he could feel the easterly wind starting to pick up and turned up his coat collar against it. It wouldn't be longer than an hour or two before the snow would start up again. A heavy weight slid onto his shoulders as he realized the full magnitude of what he had done. He had wanted to erase all traces of Josie from his life on this trip, but there was no way it could happen now. Not with her under his very nose for who knew how long. Even now, he could feel the protective shell of anger starting to slip away from him. And he knew what that meant�he'd be vulnerable to her again�too vulnerable.
A part of his heart had always held out hope: hope that one day Josie would come to him and beg his forgiveness in person, try to convince him that her love for him had been real, and most of all, an explanation�one that he could put his trust in and believe. And now�well now he understood the adage, "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it�" because it was happening to him. It was his dream coming true�and also his worst nightmare.
Because the bigger part of him was afraid�afraid and hurt. Josie's betrayal and lies had hurt him beyond belief. Finally, he'd started to believe in the sort of love that Shakespeare wrote about. He'd finally started to think that kind of magic could happen to him. And he thought he'd even felt it, felt it flowing between them like some unspoken language only they could understand. Josie's abrupt revelation about her identity and the subsequent discussion he'd overheard the evening of the prom had decimated those hopes in one swift blow�and he'd been left with nothing: he'd been an empty shell of a man, and it had taken him months to get to the point where he could at least appear normal to others, but the wound was far from healed.
Oh, if there were only some way to know? If there were only some way to know the absolute truth in advance�so he wouldn't have to put his heart at risk again�
With that thought echoing in his head, he entered the open doorway of the cabin to see Josie staring off into space, idly rubbing her hands slowly up and down her arms. She appeared to be deep in thought, and he wondered if her thoughts included him. His eyes honed in on her hands as they drifted over the knit of his sweater and unbidden the yearning for her to touch him that way awoke.
Closing his eyes against the sight, Sam forced those desires back into the realm of his subconscious. He knew he had to put a stop to such things before it was too late. His voice still a bit gruff from struggling with his own thoughts, Sam said stiffly, "Here." He held the phone out at arm's length, as if afraid of getting closer to her.
Josie came to at the sound of Sam's voice. She looked up and it seemed everything about him confirmed her negative thoughts: his face seemed very closed and cool, and he held the telephone out to her as if he were afraid to even touch her, as if she were infected somehow. Slowly, she reached out a heavy hand toward him and Sam dropped the phone into her palm. Josie stared at the thing for a long moment and then raised her eyes to his once more.
The saddened look in Josie's eyes slammed into Sam's consciousness and plucked at his heartstrings. The misery emanating from her seemed to permeate his being and seep into his soul. It almost felt as if he understood her�what the look meant in all its conflicting glory�and the realization of that shook Sam to the core. He didn't want to understand�he didn't want to feel her pain. Right now, he had enough of his own to deal with.
Without realizing he did it, Sam took a step backward, and then another. "Listen, I'll give you some privacy to make your calls. I need to go outside and chop some more wood. We may be stuck inside for a while�I want to stock up." He stopped at the doorway to tuck a fur-lined hat onto his head, and slipped his hands into sheepskin lined work gloves. He looked back at Josie for just a moment before closing the door behind him.
It had been a big mistake. Her sorrow became instantly branded onto the backs of his eyelids and refused to go away. He knew without a doubt that it was going to be a long next few days�and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it would be a miracle if either of them survived intact.
* * *
Josie stared at the closed door to the cabin for a long time before she flipped the case to Sam's cell phone open and began to dial.
At the sound of her phone ringing, Anita swallowed a quick bite from her club sandwich and washed it down with a sip from her can of Diet Pepsi. Because of the holidays, there were more Classifieds to deal with than normal. That meant only one thing to Anita: lots of working lunches. Gus was not at all forgiving about missing deadlines, even under such circumstances. And while she delighted in annoying Gus, she took tremendous pride in her work.
Picking up the receiver, Anita answered, "Classifieds, Anita Brandt."
"Anita, it's Josie."
"Hey, Josie! How's things up in the Great White North?" Anita chuckled at her own humor. "Seen any polar bears lately?"
Shaking her head slowly at Anita's antics, Josie replied, "Not recently, no. Anita, its just Wisconsin, not the Arctic�"
"Well, with the weather report I heard, you could have fooled me. It's a good thing you're on your way out of there, because otherwise I'd have to send a sled dog team for you!" Anita joked.
"Actually�" Josie hesitated, "That's what I'm calling you about. There's been a little�change of plans�"
Anita sat up straighter in her seat at the tone of Josie's voice. Something was not right; she could feel it. "What kind of change of plans?"
"Well, Anita�I'm going to need you to access my e-mail. I sent myself the draft of my article. Print it out and give it to Gus, okay? He'll need someone else to finish it up for tomorrow's insertion."
Anita sat silently for a moment, stunned. Josie never let anyone look at her stories until they were complete. "All right Jos, spill it. Something is definitely up, and I want to know what it is."
Josie looked for a long moment out the window, watching Sam as he hefted the axe above his head and purposefully swung it downward, splitting a log cleanly in two. It was amazing how graceful he seemed in everything he did�
"Josie!? What is going on!?"
Startled by Anita's raised voice, Josie actually dropped the phone. It clattered noisily on the hardwood floor. Reaching for it hastily, Josie said, "Sorry, Nita, I dropped the phone." She paused for a long moment, sighing as her eyes strayed once again to Sam's athletic form. When he bent over to retrieve another piece of wood to split, she had a perfect view of the way his jeans seemed molded to him. Finally, Josie said, "I�Well�there's been an accident�"
Anita's eyes widened. "What kind of accident? Oh, God, are you okay? Where are you?"
"Slow down, slow down� I got into a little accident with my car a little while ago�" Josie raised her voice when Anita was going to interrupt, "but I'm okay, just a little bump to the head, but I'm fine. My car, however, is not fine, so it appears that I'll be stuck here for a while. As in until after the storm."
"Where are you?" Anita asked again. "Are you still in Green Bay?"
"No, I'm in a small town on the coast named Oswego."
"Josie�what are you doing way out there? Why didn't you just take the highway home?" Anita asked, quite confused now.
"I�I don't know. I just didn't. Anyway, I'm stuck here, so you'll have to get that stuff to Gus for me, okay?"
"All right, but�why can't you finish it up and send it off yourself tonight?"
Josie fidgeted. She didn't really want to tell Anita this part, but she knew there was no way around it. "Because where I'm staying doesn't have a phone."
Anita now sounded amused. "Uh huh, and so you called me using what? A tin can and a string? Oh, wait, you've got your cell phone, right?"
"Actually, no, I don't. Mine was damaged in the accident. This is Sam's phone, and I�"
In complete and total shock, Anita's voice actually squeaked when she asked in disbelief, "Wait� What did you just say!?"
Josie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Here it was, the moment she was dreading. In a rush, she forged lamely ahead, "I said it's Sam's cell phone. His family has a cabin here and�I'll be staying there with him to ride out the storm."
* * *