Steady as the Snow Falls (12 page)

“You can hang your clothes on the rack over there,” he said in a voice like sandpaper.

“Okay,” she answered faintly. Beth’s heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. “Thanks.”

Harrison showed her his back and stepped away, into the dimly lit kitchen.

With careful movements, she set her jeans, shirt, and socks on a bar of the clothes rack, noticing the shakiness of her hands. Beth let her head fall forward and closed her eyes, her hair curtaining either side of her face. Her emotions and thoughts were a mess, going one way while fighting to go another. She felt sick, but it wasn’t an entirely bad feeling. That look he’d given her, she couldn’t get that look out of her head.

The scent of Harrison’s clothes was embedded in her skin, and she welcomed it. Beth was afraid, and it wasn’t because of Harrison—she was afraid of her response to him. He was compromised, and he was as exquisite as the deadliest flower. Intriguing to look at, detrimental to touch.

She strolled into the kitchen, pretending whatever just happened hadn’t happened. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning, after your driveway is plowed. I, uh, have to, um—I’ll be back in a minute.”

Beth didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to, to know where he was—she felt him. The room smelled of him, was alive with his warmth, shrunken with his presence. Beth hurried her footsteps, needing space from Harrison in order to properly breathe. She was overheated, nervous and edgy. She didn’t trust herself around him, something she’d never had to struggle with before. Beth felt out of control and wild.

“Beth.”

The pull of his voice, more an entreaty than a command, halted her. She waited, her back to him.

“Whatever romanticisms or fantasies your imaginative mind is coming up with, stop them all. You’ll only get hurt if you don’t.”

She pirouetted like a ballerina in slow motion.

Harrison stood near the sink, his jaw as taut as wire. It looked as if he physically fought an unseen foe, one who attacked him even as his eyes delved into hers. Was he fearful of
her
? Beth’s eyes narrowed. No, not of her, but of his reaction to her. She understood that all too well.

“What did you just say?” she rasped, disbelief adding a breathless quality to the words.

“You’re attracted to the forbidden element of our association.” Harrison moved closer. “I’m your employer. I’m…unwell.” His eyes drilled into hers. “All reasons to stay away, and all obstacles that can be viewed as a challenge to some.”

“And you’re crazy,” she scoffed, even as her body hummed with awareness. She wasn’t a daredevil, or someone who chased danger. If she was attracted to any part of him, it would be his strength, or his mind. Not the state of his health or what it represented.

Fire crackled within the depths of his eyes and half of his mouth crooked in a sardonic grin. “Not yet.”

“I’m not like that.” Her voice sounded weak. Beth cleared her throat, trying to speak firmly and failing again. “I wouldn’t…wouldn’t do that. That isn’t—no.”

“Good.” Harrison stopped walking when there was an arm’s length between them. Close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. “I must have imagined the look I thought I saw in your eyes.”

Beth moved around him and grabbed one of the two plates housing a tuna fish sandwich, pretending like her skin wasn’t flushed or that her hands didn’t quiver. She sat down on a barstool at the island, taking a large bite of the sandwich. It was good; a lemon garlic taste smoothing the tuna fish flavor.

Swallowing, she said, “I must have imagined the same look I thought I saw in your eyes.”

AFTER THEY HAD eaten their light meal in silence, Beth helped clean up the mess and was shown a spare bedroom down the hall from Harrison’s. It was as far away as he could put her from his bedroom while having her remain on the same floor. The room held a single bed and a nightstand. Nothing flashy; everything was neutral-toned and plain. She spent the hours until she fell asleep reading the book about the boy who, motherless and alone, grew into a man great enough to rule countries. It was a story of unparalleled drive, showing how obstacles had to be taken down from within before they could be overcome on the outside.

Her eyes drifted closed not long after the last word was read, the driving question of why it was Harrison’s favorite book prominent in her mind.

As soon as dawn lightened the sky, she was up and out the door. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t let her departure be known in any way. Beth wanted to look back at the house before getting into the warmed up Blazer, and because of that, she wouldn’t let herself. The roads were clear, and the open skies and fresh air righted her thoughts once more. She wasn’t attracted to Harrison. It would be a horrible mistake to think she was.

It was simply because they’d been together for so many hours yesterday, just the two of them, and the circumstances brought on familiarity that wasn’t really there. Confused her. Put hunger in his eyes and in her bones. Beth groaned, shaking her head in denial of what her body told her was true. When she went back that afternoon, everything would make sense again.

The undetectable wall would be back in place.

“Yes. Yes, it will.”

Beth made a stop at the grocery store on her way home, stocking up on essentials that were running low. Ozzy’s truck appeared outside her house as she was removing the grocery bags from the back of the Blazer, the loud and obnoxious rumble of it announcing his arrival. She softly cursed, not surprised by his appearance but aggravated just the same. His brother’s wife worked at Chester’s Grocer, and it made sense that she would inform Ozzy of Beth’s stop at the store so early in the morning.

Anything out of the ordinary was suspect, and Beth grocery shopping at an hour she was normally sleeping qualified. There were spies everywhere, and if she ever truly wanted to be free from Ozzy, Beth knew she would have to move out of town. But her parents were here; everything that made her who she was, was here. She wasn’t ready for that farewell.

She set down the bags and waited for him to approach.

“You lied,” were the first words he said to her.

His square jaw was tight and his golden eyes glittered with anger. He wore jeans and his jean jacket with a blue hooded flannel shirt beneath it. His brown hair swirled around his head like he’d jumped out of bed and raced to her house without brushing it—and he probably had.

“You weren’t home with a bad back. I was worried about you and stopped by after filling in for you at The Lucky Coin. The Blazer was gone. You weren’t home. Where were you, really?” The freezing air singed his skin, turning it pink.

“How do you know the Blazer was gone?” Her lips were stiff, frozen with cold and Ozzy’s anger.

“The side door to the garage was unlocked.” Ozzy shifted his eyes to the left, the motion announcing a possible lie.

Beth stared at Ozzy, a wave of dread sweeping over her. She always made sure every door was locked. Always. “You were in my house?”

“No,” he denied, still not looking at her.

The landlord was a family friend of the Pecks’, and if Ozzy showed up at his house with concern over Beth’s welfare, would he give him a key? Her stomach spun with sickness. Beth didn’t want to believe it. She was beginning to feel like she wasn’t safe from Ozzy anywhere. She was beginning to feel like she needed to be leery of him. Did he still have the key? Had he made a copy? What had he done inside her house while she was gone?

She took a step back, the sky swirling overhead and shifting to the side. Beth shook her head and put a steadying hand against the Blazer. “Please tell me you didn’t break into my house,” she whispered.

“I didn’t. I went into the garage, saw your car was gone, and I left.” Ozzy finally looked at her, a slash of eyes that showed no warmth. “But if I had, it would have been justified. I thought there was something wrong. I thought you were hurt.”

Anger boiled through her, heated her skin from the inside out. All of Ozzy’s actions were excusable, no matter if they were right or wrong. He was without blame, always.

“It’s none of your business where I was or what I was doing.”

“It is my business!” Ozzy swallowed and looked around to see if they had an audience. In a quieter voice, he continued. “It is my business when you ask me to work for you, and then lie about why you aren’t going to be able to work. Where were you? Do you have a new boyfriend, is that it?”

Beth’s cold skin blazed with fury and her mouth twisted with it. “I did hurt my back, and I couldn’t work. I didn’t lie about either of those things.”

“Is there someone else, Beth? Are you—are you in love with someone else?” Ozzy demanded like she hadn’t spoken, his voice vibrating with wrath, and something else.

An ache she recognized from her own heart, and voice, once upon a time. It was the startling moment when it became clear that the one she loved could be with someone else. It was disbelief and insanity and denial, all neatly packed together, all ready to unravel the person at the slightest provocation.

Ozzy realized that she could move on. She could love another. Her heart was not only to be his. He moved on, but he never thought she would. And he thought he could come back, every time. Because she’d let him, but not anymore. Beth deserved more than what he could give her. She deserved better.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him, her eyes hot with disenchantment. “It’s over between us. You need to admit that to yourself. And you have to stop showing up whenever you feel like it, and tell your family to quit keeping tabs on me. I don’t appreciate it.”

“You don’t care about me at all, do you?” His expression was wounded.

Beth took a deep breath, trying to calm her speeding pulse. Arguing with him did nothing but give him power. She was done letting him have power over her. Beth was taking it back. Ozzy was a manipulator, and he didn’t even realize it. It took Beth years to see it. A manipulator, and a liar—two things that should be avoided in life, as they made people doubt their instincts. Instincts were always right.

“It isn’t that, and you know it.”

“Is there even really a job?” The anger faded to sorrow, and looking into his devastated eyes was like looking into her own a year in the past.

“Yes, there is a job,” she hissed. Beth reached for the groceries. “This is
my life
, and it is separate from yours. Accept it. I have to get these inside. Go home, Ozzy.”

Ozzy grabbed the remaining bags and hefted them into his arms. He looked defiantly back when she opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t need help. Not wanting to keep arguing, but also knowing it was wrong to give in, Beth shook her head and walked through the plowed driveway. Her face reddened at the knowledge that Ozzy must have cleared the snow for her. Guilt tightened her throat.

She tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked, and that gave her pause. Was Ozzy telling the truth? Had she been so upset over learning what she had about Harrison that she’d forgotten to lock the doors on her way out? It was possible. She took a quick breath and entered the house through the garage, kicking off her boots before stepping inside.

The warmth was appreciated, and as Beth took in her living quarters, she felt like she was home. She couldn’t recall feeling that way before. The house was alien for so long, but now it was hers. Beth had missed sleeping in it last night. She’d been dependent on Ozzy for so long that it had taken her a while to realize she liked her freedom. The only thing wrong with the house was her ex-boyfriend’s presence. She would talk to her landlord about Ozzy and make sure her privacy hadn’t been violated, a task she wouldn’t enjoy, but one that was necessary.

Ozzy’s eyes were weights on her back as he followed her to the kitchen, and she wondered if that was how Harrison had felt when she’d stared at him as they walked. Dissected. She felt dirty in her worn clothes, like all of the activities of yesterday were visible in the wrinkles of the fabric and the unkemptness of her appearance. Beth’s most secret thoughts and feelings were shouting from her skin, and Ozzy was observing them all.

“You missed it—there was a fight at the bar last night.” Ozzy set down the bags on the counter and looked around the room. His moods switched without warning, the wrath absent and friendliness in its place. Beth never understood how he could do that. When she was mad, she stayed mad for a while.

Beth started putting away the food, glancing at Ozzy as she worked. She wanted him to go, and the best way to get that to happen was to be agreeable. “Who?”

He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “Denny Imhoff and Jason Hilton. They were playing cards and Denny accused Jason of cheating.”

“Was he?”

Ozzy grinned. “Well, yeah, but he always does. Denny just decided to take offense to it last night.”

“I’m sure drinking was involved.”

“Of course.” Ozzy handed the half-gallon of milk to Beth.

“Thanks.” She put away the last of the groceries. At his raised eyebrows, she added, “For helping carry in the groceries. And plowing the driveway. Did you use your brother’s plow truck?”

“Yeah. And it’s no big deal. I didn’t want you shoveling with your hurt back.”

The allegation was covered in silk, but she caught it, and she resented it. Neither spoke as their gazes locked in place. Ozzy’s eyes were hooded and dark.