Chapter 11: Austin

I know that I shouldn’t be happy that the pipes froze in Colt’s home, but I am. It means he’s here with me. He’s going to be spending the night. I just wish I could figure out a way to get him into my bed. We wouldn’t even need to do anything, but having his body lying next to me? God that sounded so good, yet I think it’s also a fantasy.

Walking over to the stove, I turn the flame to low, so that the soup heats up slowly, but it still doesn’t take long for the smell of the soup to fill the kitchen. My mouth starts to salivate with the aroma. Hopefully, Colt isn’t into long hot showers, so we can eat soon.

Going back to the kitchen table, I try to get back to the task I was doing before Colt walked in, but I can’t focus. All I find myself doing is listening for sounds of the shower turning off. Which, in itself, is useless as I’m not going to hear it in the kitchen.

“God, that feels better,” Colt’s voice sounds behind me, causing me to jump, and Colt to laugh. But his laugh is deep and throaty, and it’s like I can feel it in my bones. Fuck, it’s hot.

“Ready for some food?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Definitely. But I can dish it up if you want to make some room on the table,” Colt replies, with a nod in the direction of the table.

“Deal.”

Colt moves over to the stove, and I give myself the opportunity to look over at him. I was expecting him to be in the same clothes that he was earlier, but he’s dressed in gray sweatpants, and a matching hoodie.

“You found some clothes?”

“Well, you sidetracked me with the whole buff thing. Gran always made me leave a spare change of clothes here, just in case.”

“Sounds like Gran.” But I send a silent thanks to her, because Colt dressed like that was a sight to behold.

“So, are you ready?”

“Sorry, yes.” I quickly move the toy that was on the table, and the wrapping paper as Colt places a steaming bowl of soup in front of me.

We both sit and eat in silence, but after the day we’ve had, it’s not surprising. Yet, it’s also comfortable. Like it was when we went to the Christmas tree farm. There is no need for small talk. Eventually, we both finish, and Colt gets up from the table, and takes both of our bowls over to the sink, rinses them out, and places them on the side to dry.

“It’s still snowing outside,” Colt says, and I’m not sure if he’s just talking out loud or telling me.

“Is that bad?”

“It’s not good,” Colt replies. “Any tracks that we made to get to the animals will be gone. So that’s going to mean more shoveling. But they’ll be okay overnight, which is the main thing.”

“We can do it together in the morning. You know the saying: two pairs of hands are better than one. Do you know when it’s supposed to stop?” Giving him a smile.

“The forecast said that the storm should pass overnight, and I’m hoping that they have that right,” Colt adds, looking out the window before turning back to me. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Wrapping presents, for the kids.” But I would’ve thought that was obvious.

“Again, why?”

“For the festival.”

“Austin, there is no way the festival will be happening now. Even if it stops snowing overnight, it’s going to take a few days before we can get out.”

“Well, I’m going to get everything ready just in case. We have two days. Anything can happen in two days.”

Colt opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, turns back to the window and looks outside again, before heaving a big sigh, turning and coming back over to join me.

“Pass me some toys. I may as well help, it will give us something to do.”

Laughing, I hand over some toys and wrapping paper. “Those are the toys for ages eight to ten. They go in that pile.”

Colt nods his head and starts to wrap, and you can see the concentration that’s on his face as he folds and tapes the paper in place. I keep thinking that at any moment he’s going to stick his tongue out. But he doesn’t.

“Done,” he announces, holding up the toy in triumph.

“Are you hoping for a trophy?” Smiling at him.

“That was a tricky present to wrap.”

“Colt, it was a square box. That’s not a tricky present to wrap. Those are the easiest. This,” and I hold up a baseball glove, “is an awkward present to wrap.”

“Okay then, you show me how it’s done.”

“Oh, the pressure.”

Placing the glove on the table, I measure out a length, making sure that it covers the glove with a little excess. Placing the glove to one side, I fold the paper so that the seam is in the middle, and overlap it, and tape it in place. Folding up the bottom by a couple of inches before opening it up, and folding in the corners, I seal that up with tape to make a bottom. Picking up the glove, I place it securely into the bag before folding down the top.

“You made a bag,” Colt exclaims.

“Yeah. Was a trick I learned a few years back.”

“You’re going to have to show me how to do that.”

“No problem.”

Getting up from my chair, I go and sit in the chair next to him, and help him make a bag, trying to ignore the jolts that tingle up my arm every time our fingers accidentally touch. Being this close to him, and not touching him, is torture.

“You’re a pro. Look at that,” as Colt finished his bag.

Just as Colt turns to me, the light flickers in the kitchen, before going out completely, throwing us into darkness.

“What’s happened?”

“I’m guessing the storm has knocked out the power,” Colt says, and I hear him shift next to me. The next thing I see is the kitchen being illuminated, via the light on Colt’s cell. “I’m going to check the fuse box, just in case. Gran used to keep some candles, holders, and matches in the drawer over there. If you can get some of them lit.”

Colt leaves the kitchen, throwing me back into darkness. Pulling out my cell, I turn on the light and make my way over to the drawer that Colt pointed to, pulling out the candles and placing them into the holders, before lighting one then turning off the light on my cell. If the power has gone out, then I’m going to need to conserve the battery.

A few minutes later, Colt reappears in the kitchen. “Fuses are fine. Looks like we’re out of power.”

“What do we do now?” And I don’t want to admit that I’m a little scared.

“We do what Gran did?” Colt replies, looking like his normal calm wonderful self.

“Which is?”

“We light the fire in the living room, get some blankets and hot chocolate, of course,” Colt replies, like this is something that I’m supposed to know.

“Of course.”

Even with the meager light from the candle, I can see the smirk on Colt’s face, and instead of annoying me, it makes me want to kiss him harder. Especially the way the shadows dance on his face.

“Give me a couple candles, I will get the fire going and get the blankets. You do the hot chocolate. Blackouts were one of the reasons Gran and Pops purchased the gas stove. It meant they were always able to get hot water that way.”

“Okay,” I reply, but I’m still not sure.

“Austin.” Colt calls my name. “It will be fine. This isn’t my first blackout, and it won’t be my last.”

“Yeah, but this is my first one,” I reply.

“It will be okay. Trust me. Just start making the hot chocolate, alright?”

I’m not sure if Colt still sees the uncertainty on my face, but he takes a step closer to me, and places a hand under my chin, lifting my head. I hadn’t even noticed that my head had dropped so I was staring at the floor.

“Austin, I promise it will be okay.”

We stare at each other for a moment, and I’m willing Colt to close that gap between us. I think he wants to kiss me, and I know that I could initiate it myself, but I don’t, and then the moment is gone. Colt lets go of me and leaves the room.

I place my candle on the side, and I busy myself with getting some mugs, pouring some milk into a saucepan, and getting it on the stove. It might have only been minutes since the power had gone out, but to me, the house was already starting to feel cold, though that could just be my mind playing tricks on me.

“How’s the hot chocolate coming?” Colt shouts from the living room.

“Almost done.”

Spooning some of the chocolate powder into the mugs, I pour in the steaming milk. Giving the hot chocolate a quick stir, I clean out the saucepan, placing it on the side to dry with our soup bowls from earlier.

Picking up the mugs, I walk into the living room, and I can feel the heat from the blazing fire, but what stops me in my tracks, and causes me to almost drop the mugs, are all the blankets and pillows laid out on the floor. The candles Colt took are placed around the room, casting shadows, and there is Colt sitting against one of the couches. It’s a scene right out of a romance movie. I had thought, when Colt mentioned blankets, that we would be sitting on the couches with the blankets wrapped around us.

“You, Gran, and Pops did this?” I ask, finally finding my voice, and getting my legs to move.

“Yeah. It puts us on the same level as the fire, and the blankets are for the cold floor,” Colt explains.

“I also grabbed Pops’ sleeping bag for you, and I got mine from the kitchen. We have enough wood to keep the fire going for a few hours, at least.”

I try to ignore the pang of disappointment that courses through my body at hearing Colt explain about the sleeping bags. On seeing the blankets on the floor, an image of the two of us lying on the floor, curled into each other, and covered with blankets had popped into my head.

“That’s good,” I reply, handing Colt his mug.

“Want me to hold that for you?” Colt asks, as I look for a place to put my mug, so I can get on the floor.

“Thanks.”

Handing Colt my mug, I get down onto the floor and cover my legs with one of the blankets. When I’m settled, Colt leans forward, hands me my hot chocolate, and I take a sip.

“This will add to our day tomorrow, but we will have to bring in more wood. Thankfully, the pile is protected, so at least it won’t be damp. But you know that this officially cancels the festival.”

“Yeah,” I confirm. There is no way that it will be able to continue without power. This is not how I wanted my first festival to go.

“Gran and Pops would’ve been so proud of you. You know that right? This isn’t your fault,” Colt says over to me.

“I’m gutted,” I tell him, not just because the festival is canceled, but because I’m no longer able to do my surprise for Colt. Last night before the snow had gotten too heavy, I had managed to finish. I was so excited. It won’t be the same showing him after Christmas.

“I know. Me too. But this happens. It’s the life of a rancher,” Colt adds.

“But you love it. You have thrived,” I say over to him.

“I couldn’t do anything else. I wasn’t like you. I remember how good you were in school.”

“And I remember how good you were on the ranch,” I tell him. “I’m glad that you stayed with Gran and Pops, when I couldn’t.”

“Yeah well…” Colt doesn’t finish the sentence, and I think I know what he was going to say. That he loved this place, and there was no way he could leave. Because, honestly, I now feel the same, or maybe it’s that I can’t leave him.