* * *
A long, thick silence met Josie’s ear. Finally, Anita’s incredulous voice asked, “Sam? As in ‘Sam-the-slimy-bastard-who-left-you-standing-on-the-ballfield-and-broke-your-heart-into-a-million-little-pieces’ Coulson!?” Her voice had started softly but rose in volume as she got more and more upset.
Josie glanced out the window once more, focusing her eyes on the subject of their conversation. “Yes,” she said softly, the pain of those memories turning her voice bittersweet. “That’s the one.” She looked down at her feet that were sheathed in Sam’s sister’s boots and sighed.
A million questions spun around in Anita’s mind, but the one that popped out of her mouth first was, “Josie…are you completely and totally insane!?”
Ruefully, Josie admitted, “Well, I am starting to wonder…”
Anita looked up to realize that several of her co-workers were staring at her after her last outburst. Sheepishly, she shrunk down a tad in her seat and quieted her voice. “Okay, back the truck up. Would you like to explain to me just how you ended up in the company of that horse’s ass?”
No, not really, Josie thought to herself. Sighing, she hedged, “Anita, I wish you wouldn’t call him that. We’ve been through this before…Sam had every right to be angry with me for what I did. I’d been lying to him for weeks, and after overhearing what George said…”
Anita cut her off abruptly. “Jos, I’m sorry, but the man’s a jerk; plain and simple. Any guy who supposedly cared for you and read that article of yours - the way you poured your very heart out on that page - and could still walk away from you is either spineless or heartless…or both!”
Weakly, Josie added, “We don’t know for sure that he read it…”
Rolling her eyes from Josie’s grasping at straws, she said plainly, “Oh come on…of course he read it. Every living, breathing human being in Chicago read it. It was picked up and published by every major newspaper in the country. You were all over the TV. There is no way he could possibly have missed it. You know that.”
Josie’s only response was a sigh, more longing and pitiful than the last.
Anita pressed, “You never did tell me how you ended up there with him…”
“Well, a snow squall pretty much sprung up out of nowhere, and suddenly I couldn’t even see three feet beyond the hood of the car. But there was no shoulder on the road, so I had to keep driving. I guess I must’ve driven over the center line without knowing it, because suddenly there were headlights in my view and I swerved to get out of the way and ended up driving down an embankment and into a tree.”
“Uh huh…but that still doesn’t explain where he comes into the picture.”
Josie half-smiled and said, almost not believing the coincidence herself, “Sam was the one driving the other car…the one I almost hit.”
Anita sat bolt upright and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. The odds of something like that happening in Chicago-let alone on a deserted street several hundred miles from where they both lived-was astronomical, and Anita knew it. She breathed, “Josie…that’s bizarre.”
“Tell me about it,” Josie agreed. “The last thing I remember was that tree looming up before me and the next thing I know I’m waking up in a strange car with Sam hovering over me.”
“Uh huh. And then how did you end up at his cabin? Did he kidnap you or something?” Anita asked crossly.
Josie actually giggled a bit at the outlandish idea of Sam Coulson spiriting her away to his private cabin in the woods. “Come on, Anita…if he’d kidnapped me, do you think he’d have let me use his cell phone? No, it wasn’t like that at all. He called 911 and the police came and all that. Quite normal, I assure you. It was only after we found out that my car was too damaged to drive and that there wasn’t a hotel within 30 miles of here that he made the offer. At the time, I assure you, he didn’t seem too thrilled about it.”
Anita listened to Josie’s explanation, but something just didn’t seem to add up. “No, no, Josie,” she said finally. “Something’s not right here. Supposedly the guy hates your guts, right?”
“Right,” Josie agreed.
“So then, why would someone who hated your guts care if you had no place to stay? Wouldn’t he get some kind of sick satisfaction out of seeing you suffer?”
Josie didn’t have an answer to that. In fact, she’d been wondering the same thing all afternoon. And judging by the way that Sam was now attacking that woodpile as if tormented by a host of inner demons, she’d guess even the man himself couldn’t tell her. Finally she said to Anita, “I don’t know. The way he’s been acting today hasn’t made any sense at all…”
Her curiosity instantly piqued, Anita leaned forward in her chair and asked, “What do you mean? How has he been acting?”
Josie struggled to put her intuitive suspicions into words. “Well, sometimes he’s really cold, you know? And at others…well, its almost as if…” Sighing she paused, and then said, “It’s almost as if maybe he does still care a little. But when he catches himself doing it, he gets mad at himself…and at me. Oh, Anita…I just don’t know what to think!”
Anita’s protective instincts came out full force as she said, “Josie, I’m telling you; you need to get out of there. Go someplace…anyplace else, hon. Because I can hear it already: he’s starting to get to you. I have no idea why he’s doing this, but I think it can’t be good. At best, you two have a lot of pain and hostility between you; at worst…well, who knows what kind of revenge he may want to take while you are at his mercy…”
“Anita, Sam is not going to hurt me. He’s not that kind of guy, no matter what you say.”
“Josie, I didn’t mean he would try and hurt you physically…I just meant like mind games, you know? Maybe try and hurt you the way he felt he was hurt?”
Josie’s heart stopped for a split second as the icy cold possibility slid down her spine. What if Sam was trying to mess with her mind? Could she survive that kind of pain a second time?
Anita’s next statement mirrored Josie’s thoughts. “Josie…I don’t know if you could make it through that again. And I don’t want him to have that chance to. Please, for me…get out of there.”
Josie’s eyes strayed to Sam again. He had the axe head rested on the cutting block and had placed a forearm on the butt end of the handle to rest while he wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. He lifted his chin and seemed to stare off into space, deep in thought. Even from this distance, Josie could sense that he was intensely troubled.
And then slowly he turned his head and stared right at her, as if he could actually feel her gaze on him and had been compelled to acknowledge it. Josie sucked in a breath and held it, not able to pull her eyes from his. They were full of emotion, and as unguarded as she’d seen them thus far. Plainly he was angry… or was trying to be. And for the first time, Josie realized that the anger was only a front, a barrier Sam had erected for self-protection. But in that moment, the anger seemed to be fading, and other, truer emotions were showing through: pain, confusion, and caution. But it was the emotion from his deepest level that shook her: hope. Just a faint, fragile glimmer of hope remained underneath the rest. It was there on his face for a moment before he reigned in his thoughts and the mental barrier slid back into place.
That one look was all it took for Josie’s own smoldering hope to spring back to life. If there was any hope whatsoever that she could repair the damage and mend the rift between her and Sam, she knew she would have to try. “I…I can’t, Nita. I mean, I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate your concern, but this is just something that I have to do.”
“But-“
“No buts, Anita. Call me crazy, but I’m staying, and that’s final.”
Anita let out a heavy sigh, but knew better than to try to argue with Josie once she’d made up her mind.
“Oh, and Nita?”
Sighing again, she said, “Yes?”
“Can…can you please call my parents and let them know what’s up? I don’t want to tie up Sam’s phone too long and use up the battery time. Who knows if we may need to use it later, you know?”
“You’ve got to be kidding! You want me to call your dad and tell him you’re spending Christmas with his idea of the devil incarnate!? Nuh-uh, no thanks. If ever a messenger was gonna get shot for delivering a message, that would be the one message I would get shot for!”
“Anita…please! I know it’s asking a lot, but… Well, frankly I’m just not ready to answer the kind of questions we both know my parents will ask… “ Josie begged. “Anita, you’re my best friend! I’m counting on you…please!?”
“Aww, man! I hate when you pull out the ‘best friend’ stuff!” Anita complained.
Josie smiled because she knew Anita was about to cave in.
“Okay, okay…I’ll do it,” Anita huffed sulkily. Then she brightened and said, “Well, at least if there’s an up side to this, it would be that if that man harms even one hair on your head…and you know what I mean…your dad really will kill him this time. And I’ll want front row seats…”
Rolling her eyes, Josie said, “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Everything will be just fine; you’ll see.”
Anita didn’t sound convinced, “Yeah, right, sure…whatever you say, Jos. Just…be careful, all right?”
“I will,” Josie vowed. “And don’t forget to get that draft to Gus, all right? I’ll get back in touch as soon as the storm is over. And if my parents or anyone wants to check this stuff out, tell them to call Sheriff Will Parker in Oswego. He was the one that came out to the accident scene and can verify my story.”
“Oooh, a man in uniform…” Anita gushed. “Was he cute?”
Josie shook her head. Anita was still incorrigible when it came to men. “Yeah, he was kind of cute, I guess…but cute and married if the wedding ring on his finger meant anything…”
“Damn…” Anita said forlornly.
Josie giggled, “Honestly!” Then, “I’ll talk to you soon, Nita. Have a good Christmas, okay?”
Anita returned, “Yeah, I will. Well, I know what you want in your stocking Christmas morning… And honestly…if he’s really what you want then I hope it works out. Just take care of you, okay? Don’t let him hurt you.”
“I won’t; I promise. Bye, Anita.”
“Bye, Jos,” came the reply before the line clicked into silence.
Josie looked out the window at Sam for a moment and then back down to his phone in her hand. Suddenly she realized that there was no way she could actually follow through on her promise to Anita not to get hurt. She was already in way too deep.
* * *
Sam shut the cabin door behind him, walking purposefully toward the cutting block, where he’d left the axe wedged into its wide face earlier that day. Brushing the snow off the handle, he grabbed it with both hands and yanked it out. Resting it against a nearby tree, he then reached down and brushed a layer of snow off the large, round, low stump he was using for a cutting block. Then, grabbing a hunk of wood, he set it onto the block and grabbed the axe, swinging it above his head and back down, severing the piece of wood into two.
Sam relished the familiar stinging in his hands and arms from the axe head’s contact with the wood. He could use something to take his mind off of his dilemma…and his attraction to Josie. The biting cold air did seem to take the edge off that aspect, but instead, he felt it being replaced by anger and frustration. Sam picked up another log and set it on end and then dissected that piece with a swing of the axe as well. How dare she come along and ruin any chance of resolution he’d hoped to attain on this trip? How dare she make him feel these things about her? How dare she…?
As Sam got deeper and deeper into his thoughts of all the things he wanted to blame Josie for, he got more and more agitated. Without realizing it, he was now cutting wood at a frightening pace. His chest was heaving from the exertion and sweat dotted his brow, but all he could think of were his swirling thoughts.
Finally, he’d reached a breaking point physically; he had to stop and rest. Wearily resting the axe head onto the cutting block, he leaned his weight heavily onto the upturned handle end. Now that he had stopped his frenzied pace, he could feel the beads of sweat cooling quickly on his forehead and dripping down his face. Shivering a little, he used the sleeve from his coat to wipe it off.
And now that he could hear himself think over the furious beating of his heart, he also realized that his anger was basically unfounded. He realized that the person he really should be angry with was himself. After all, Josie wasn’t trying to attract him. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t seem to keep his mind from thinking about what it would be like to be to make love with her, to kiss her…hell, just to hold her in his arms…
In truth, Josie had done nothing at all today to incite any of the conflicting emotions that were now torturing him. All she had been was what he had always known her to be, but even that disturbed him, because a part of him didn’t want to believe that he’d been wrong about her using him for a story. Because if he had been wrong those months ago, then he’d thrown away something wonderful and precious simply for the sake of his pride, and he didn’t want to face that.
And then suddenly, the hair on the back of Sam’s neck stood on end, and he knew that Josie was staring at him. It was as if he could feel the heat of her gaze burning right through him. He could not stop himself from turning to look at her, and as soon as he did, he felt as if he were a deer caught in a pair of headlights: even though destruction could be imminent, he just couldn’t break contact.
Josie was still on the telephone, but it seemed that as soon as he made eye contact with her, she forgot to speak. She seemed just as caught by his gaze as he was by hers. Her expressive eyes infused him with knowledge, and he could almost feel the conflict raging within her. She was wary, and afraid, and…hopeful? Did he really see the pain of unrequited love hovering there just beyond his reach?
For a split second, he felt his heart expanding. The hope that was no more than a faint glimmer in a deep hidden place started to glow. For just a split second, he allowed himself to think, “What if…?”
And then catching himself, he realized that yet again, he’d begun to fall under her spell. He was going to have to try a heck of a lot harder if he was going to survive being with Josie for the next two or three days…
He forced himself to look away from her and then picked up his axe and prepared to chop some more wood.
* * *
Wanting to take her mind off of the look she’d shared with Sam and its potential meaning, she turned away from the window and walked toward the couch, dropping Sam’s cell phone on the side table as she passed it. Settling down on the couch she watched the flames in the hearth dancing for several minutes before breaking from her reverie and looking around a bit. Next to her, on the table where she’d dropped the cell phone, was a hardcover book. She picked it up and turned it over to read “Jane Eyre” on the cover.
Smiling slightly, she settled into the couch and began to read. She had loved this book from a young age, easily being able to identify with Jane’s plainness and inability to fit in. And just as Jane did, she had always hoped there would be that one man that could see beneath her plain exterior and find a beautiful woman within.
Being a very quick reader, it did not take her long to reach the part where Jane first meets her employer Mr. Rochester. And even though the description of him was completely at odds with Sam; that was the picture that surfaced in her mind as she read. She couldn’t help it; it just seemed that the haunted tortured eyes of Rochester must have looked just like Sam’s…
Josie jumped as the door to the cabin suddenly flung open, slamming hard against the side wall from the force of the whipping wind outside. Dropping the book from her shaking hands, she slowly stood and turned toward the door. Blowing snow swirled around Sam’s feet as he carried his first armful of firewood inside.
Smiling slightly in apology, Sam said, “Sorry about the door, the wind caught it and my hands were full.” He grunted as he dropped the wood into a small pile along the bench by the window.
“Th…that’s okay,” Josie replied, still a bit shaken from the scare as well as from the depth of emotion she was feeling at that moment. Pushing those feelings aside she asked, “Would you like me to help you with that?”
A flicker of concern crossed Sam’s face before he replied, “No, thank you. You’re not supposed to be doing anything but resting, remember? I’ll get it.”
Nodding a bit, Josie settled uneasily back into her spot on the couch and tried to resume reading, but soon she discovered it was impossible. Every time Sam would enter the room, burdened by yet another load of wood, she couldn’t help but glance up from the book to watch him. Yet, she didn’t want him to realize she was really watching him, so she kept the book to serve as a cover.
Finally, after several trips, Sam walked through the doorway and kicked the door shut with his foot before depositing his latest armful on the impressive stack he’d made against the wall. Brushing wood chips off his gloves, he removed them and his hat, tucking them onto the coat tree before shrugging out of his woolen coat and placing it over them on the tree as well.
He turned to walk toward where Josie was sitting and for a split second it seemed that Josie had been watching him, but he shook his head, telling himself he must simply have imagined it. After all, she was reading, and she usually was completely engrossed when she read…
He walked around and plopped on the far end of the couch, away from where Josie was curled up. He leaned down and started to untie his bootlaces and said, “The wind is really starting to kick up out there. I’d bet we’ll see the snow start anytime now…”
When Josie didn’t respond, he looked up for a moment from his boot, taking in the title of the book. Sucking in a breath, he realized she was reading the same book he’d been reading just that last evening. He wondered briefly if she also felt the connection between the book and their situation, but didn’t dare ask. Finally he found his voice and asked, “Jane Eyre? You like that book, too?”
Josie’s startled eyes met Sam’s over the top of the book. Sam had said the word “too” as if it were also a favorite… “Y..yes, I like it very much. One of my favorites, actually.”
Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving Josie’s as he finished untying the knot on his left boot and used his right to push the boot off his foot. “Mine, too,” he responded. “The Bronte sisters certainly had a way with words. I liked Wuthering Heights quite a bit as well. But, well…I like Jane’s character better than Cathy’s.”
Josie smiled. This was her opinion as well. It did make her curious as to Sam’s reasoning, though. “Why do you think that?” she asked softly, using her finger to hold her place in the book and then setting it down in her lap.
Sam looked down for a moment to struggle with a knot in the lace of his right boot and then back to Josie’s eager face with a grin. “Well,” he admitted, “while both Jane and Cathy fell in love with men they believed they couldn’t have, at least Jane was honest about it. She didn’t deny the feelings the way Cathy did. Cathy turned her back on the truth and thereby caused the ruin of both herself and Heathcliff.”
Once the words were out of his mouth, Sam wished he’d never spoken them, because it brought to light his feelings for Josie, and he felt exposed. He’d thought that Josie was like Jane, when in reality she was more like Cathy, only using him to get what she wanted only to bring about his ruin with her cowardice.
Josie knew the exact moment when Sam made the connection with what he’d just said and their situation because he abruptly looked back down at his remaining boot and shoved it off fiercely with his other foot…with anger or self-recrimination she wasn’t sure. Without another glance at her, Sam bent over, picked up his boots with his left hand, stood up and deposited them in front of the fire before turning and heading toward the kitchen. “I think I’m going to put some water on for hot chocolate. I’m feeling a bit chilled,” he intoned dully, his back still to her.
Josie stared after Sam for many long moments, trying to decide whether to leave him alone with his thoughts or to try and start making amends. Finally, she laid the book aside and followed Sam into the kitchen.
Sam had just relit the wood inside the stove and set the white-flecked camping kettle on it when he felt Josie’s presence behind him. He stiffened involuntarily and had to force himself to relax again. “Yes?” he asked without turning to her.
“I…I thought that maybe you’d put on enough water for us both to have hot chocolate,” Josie hedged.
Sam nodded, crossing the room to adjust a few food cans sitting on the far counter. “I can bring it in to you when it’s ready, if you’d like.”
Josie hesitated but then steeled her nerves and crossed the room as well, stopping a hairsbreadth behind Sam. “Sam,” she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “if we’re going to be stuck in this cabin together for a while, then we’ve got to stop avoiding each other so much.”
The heat from Josie’s hand shot through Sam’s system, a feeling he couldn’t deny, as much as he wanted to. He heard the validity of Josie’s words, but yet he feared for his sanity. While he agreed that it would be exceedingly difficult for them if they continued avoiding whatever this was between them, if just the touch of her hand could make him feel this out of control…
Finally, he turned his head and looked into Josie’s eyes, unable to completely hide the spark he felt from her touch.
Suddenly, Josie felt as if her hand were burning, but instead of removing it, her fingers tightened just slightly, as if unwilling to let go of the tenuous grasp they had on him. Caught in Sam’s gaze, Josie couldn’t move.
The power and force he felt in Josie’s look actually caused him to sway toward her just slightly. A wave of longing washed over him and all he could think of was how badly he wanted to feel Josie’s lips upon his, wanted to wrap his arms around her…
His eyes started to close…but then he came to his senses abruptly and pulled away from Josie’s grasp, stepping backward to break the connection.
Josie, still a bit dazed from what had almost happened, watched Sam’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed nervously before responding hoarsely, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…”
* * *