Page 59 of Stubborn as a Shadow

“Thank you for thinking of me,” I said, still hoping praise would trigger a magical response where Nelson would fall to his knees in front of me and offer to warm up my little horn with his mouth. “But I think that—” I motioned to the floor “—would bother me more.”

Nelson pressed his lips together, but at least he quit fussing with the cushions. I sat on the edge of the bed and bounced a bit to test the mattress. The frame squeaked, and the thin mattress did little to disguise the metal frame under my butt. Maybe it was a good thing we weren’t gettingenergetictonight.

I kicked off my snow-covered slippers, stripped off the jacket, and crawled under the layers of blankets fully clothed.

When Nelson stepped outside to take care of himself, I popped out of bed again and dug in the cedar chest. I found another blanket. Excellent. That’d work. I rolled it up and positioned it along the middle of the bed lengthwise, then I dove back under the covers.

After Nelson returned, he stood by the bed, staring at me as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

“See? I put a blanket wall between us. Does that make it better?”

He grimaced. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad by offering to take the floor. I was trying to be respectful.”

I patted the bed.

“Get in, s—” Nope. I was supposed to behave. Calling him sexy wouldn’t be behaving. I coughed to hide my linguistic stumble. What else started with s? Sweetheart? Sugar? Snookums? Oh, I knew what I could say! “Come on, Smiley.”

His eyebrows lifted at my little nickname for him. They really were so expressive. It was fabulous. He obeyed, which was even more fabulous. Fabulouser? Fabulousest, even. Those were most definitely not words, but more and most fabulous sounded less impressive, am I right?

Once he stretched out beside me on the bed, a tense silence fell over us again. Almost as heavy as the layers of quilts. Despite the respectable gap between us because of the blanket wall, I sensed Nelson was holding himself rigidly still. Other than the soft whispers of our breath, the only other noises were thepopping and sizzling from the fire as it cast a golden, flickering light over the room.

“If I’m Smiley,” Nelson said eventually, “who are you?”

“Marvelous.”

“Marvelous Morgan?”

“Exactly.”

“Shouldn’t I be Nice Nelson, then? If we’re going for alliteration?”

I popped up on my elbow so I could see him over the rolled blanket.

“Are you nice?” I waggled my eyebrows at him. If he could have expressive eyebrows, so could I. I could also think of other nicknames too. Like Naughty Nelson or Nibbly Nelson (‘cause I wanted to nibble on him), or Nice Butt Nelson, or…

“Not always,” he said quietly.

Oh no, I didn’t want him sad! Reaching for his hand, I patted it before pulling my hand back to my side of the blanket wall again. “I was just teasing you. I think you are very nice. Not everyone would have helped me like you did.”

Nelson didn’t say anything.

We listened to the wind whirling outside and the crackle of the fire a little longer. I was on my side, facing him, and as much as I was tired and kept yawning, I didn’t want this moment to end. I wanted to talk to him. No, that wasn’t exactly right, because what I really, really wanted was forhimto talk tome.

He didn’t.

The moment stretched on.

I thought about closing my eyes, but something stopped me.

“Do you think we’re safe here?” I whispered.

Nelson turned toward me. Prior to that, he’d been staring up at the wood-covered ceiling. His gaze sought mine. “We’re as safe as we can be. For tonight at least.”

Yeah, that wasn’t reassuring, but at least he hadn’t lied. I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling as the reality of our situation threatened to overwhelm me.

“Do you need another blanket?” Nelson whispered.

“No, I’m okay,” I whispered back, even as I shivered from fatigue and stress andeverything.