Selena Kitt - Beauty

Silas had dragged it home through the snow and set it up in a stand he’d made himself.

They’d popped popcorn and strung dried berries and fruit-it was a truly an old-fashioned tree, no lights or sparkles, but in the glow of the fire it shined anyway, a magical thing.

She clapped her hands when Silas began handing out the brown packages wrapped in twine under the tree. Hers for him were more elaborately decorated in white butcher paper, stamped using nutshells and leaves and pinecones with a dark brown ink she’d made from boiling walnuts and vinegar.

There was an orange for her and a big bar of chocolate and she overdosed on sweetness as she unwrapped more yarn, thrilled at the bright colors he’d chosen. There was also a new pair of boots for her and a winter jacket, waterproof and warm. She blushed when she opened a package of delicate, lacy bras in a myriad of colors.

Silas shrugged one shoulder, reminding her, “You asked for them…”

“I did.” She smiled, rubbing the silky material of one of the cups against her cheek. He watched her do this, his eyes dark in the holes of his mask.

“Open yours.” She handed him the first, watching him unwrap the paper.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, spreading the wrapping out as he got it open, looking at the designs she’d made on the butcher paper.

“That’s not your present, silly!” She unfolded the scarf, deep blues and greens. She wrapped it around his neck.

He fingered the edge of it, smiling. “Thank you.”

“There’s more.” She handed him another.

“Someone hasn’t been napping,” he remarked as he unwrapped three pairs of socks and a pair of gloves, smiling over all of them. He stopped when he opened the last one, holding up the knitted thing in his hands, frowning.

“I thought, if you’re going to insist on wearing a mask, maybe you’d like something a little more stylish.” She showed him the way the eye holes were bigger, the mouth hole too.

“Besides I’m sick of looking at that camouflage thing.” He turned his back to her, pulling off his hunting mask and putting the knit one on.

She nodded in satisfaction. “Now I feel like I’m being held captive by a crazed skier instead of a crazed hunter. That’s an improvement, right?” He grinned and she loved how she could really see him smile. “They say variety is the spice of life.”

“It’s made from very breathable yarn. How does it feel?”

“Pretty good.” He rubbed his cheek through the black material, thoughtful. Then his eyes lit up and he stood. “I have something else for you. A big surprise.” She watched him heading toward the back of the cabin, still in his long underwear, always covered that way. She wished he would tell her, show her, whatever it was he kept hidden, but they had tacitly agreed not to talk about any of it, especially Carlos. They both had a history with the man that neither wanted to share.

“Are you coming?” He looked over his shoulder at her, waiting, and she hopped up, following him. He led her down the hall, past her room, past his, to a locked door at the end of the hall. There’d been a lot of hammering and pounding in there the past month or so, and whenever she asked him about it, Silas said he was making a “workroom.”

“Did you make me something?” she asked, her eyes bright as he used a key hanging around a string on his neck to unlock the door.

“You could say that,” he agreed.

Jolee peeked into the room expecting maybe something decorative made of wood, perhaps a rocking chair to sit in by the fire-he was quite an accomplished carpenter, she’d discovered-but the sight that greeted her left her stunned still and speechless.

“It’s indoor plumbing,” Silas explained, stepping into their new bathroom and turning on the water for the tub. “No more boiling water for sponge baths.”

“How in the world did you do all this?” She stepped into the room, staring around in wonder. The tub alone was huge. How had he gotten it in by himself without her noticing? He knew how much she hated not having a warm shower, a real bathtub, and so he’d installed both, just for her.

“I managed.” He shrugged one shoulder, half-smiling as he adjusted the water temperature. “Do you want to take a bath?”

“Do I?” Jolee laughed and clapped her hands. “I can’t believe this! Silas, it’s incredible.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said, standing up and nodding toward the towel rack where a big pink fluffy towel and a brand new pink robe were hung.

She moved toward him, putting her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. He was warm and solid and he hesitated just a moment before putting his arms around her too.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, squeezing him tight. She went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek through the mask, the yarn soft against her lips.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, taking a step toward the door.

“Silas.” She called for him and he turned, his eyes bright through the holes in his mask.

“This is almost the best gift ever.”

He laughed. “Almost?”

“The best gift would be if you would take off your mask.” She said it hopefully, breath held.

“You know I can’t do that.” Silas smiled sadly, taking a step toward her and kissing her forehead. Her bandage was gone, the wound healing. He’d removed each stitch carefully, tenderly. “Have a good bath. I’ll make us a great big breakfast. Eggs and bacon?” She nodded, smiling up at him. “Scrambled.”

“Of course.” He knew her well enough by now. He even made and canned his own version of ketchup and it was better than Heinz or Hunts ever thought about being.

Jolee waited for him to go and then stripped down and stepped into the tub, letting the warmth and steam envelop her, trying not to think about anything. It wasn’t always easy, but she found it less difficult here, squirreled away with Silas in his cabin, than she had anywhere or any other time in her life. At first, she’d been afraid, always looking over her shoulder, worried that Carlos or one of his guys would show up, but after a while that anxiety had faded.

Now they both practiced a very zen life together, living in the moment, not talking about the past or the future. At first she was full of questions, but she found him less than forthcoming about his life, especially about his brother-not that she blamed him. Carlos wasn’t a happy subject for her either. Silas had clearly chosen a different life and didn’t want his family to know he existed. Whatever his reasons, they were his own, and who was she to question or argue with him about it?

She poured bubble bath into the water, watching the suds rise, delighted. Sponge baths were tolerable and got the job done, but this was pure luxury. She could feel layers of grime washing off her skin and she sank down into the tub, her hair spreading around her like a dark fan.

The thought of Silas doing all of this, the work it must have been, actually brought tears to her eyes. She’d never meet a sweeter, gentler soul, and she couldn’t help comparing him to his brother, the two of them so opposite they could have been from different planets. Where Carlos was cruel, Silas was kind. Where Carlos was selfish, Silas was noble. She saw the similarities, too-their eyes, dark and deep, the curve of their mouths, that bright smile, their humor and charm. That was the thing Carlos had used to seduce her in the beginning, when she was just a young girl.

I’m not so old now, she reminded herself. Just twenty-six, hardly an old maid. But she’d been practically a baby when her father died, just turned nineteen, when Carlos had taken her under his wing and guided her life down a pathway to merge with his own. She’d been ready to take a scholarship to an out-of-state college, something her father had been so proud of, even if she had used her looks to obtain it-Jolee had entered and won Miss Teen USA, the prize a full ride to Boston University, that year’s sponsor. Her father had insisted she go, had even packed her bags for her, even though she’d never been out of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in her whole entire life-and then the accident had happened.