Gunner headed back outside to check on the meat, and I sat down at the kitchen table, keeping an eye on the oven to make sure nothing would burn.
The smell of bread soon filled the cabin, and I watched the clock move with excruciating slowness.
“Meat needs another hour,” Gunner said, ripping me out of my dreams of taking a bath in a tub filled with bread.
Cold air rushed into the cabin when he opened the door, and I shivered.
“Why didn’t you tell me the fire had almost gone out?” he asked and grabbed a few logs off the side of the fireplace.
I knew we had to use the wood sparingly. We didn’t know how long we’d be here. And I couldn’t expect Gunner to hack down trees just so I could stay toasty warm.
“I’m not cold. Don’t waste wood.”
He ignored my protest and added more logs to the barely there fire.
The gesture was nice, and if I was honest, it was getting chilly. I’d been huddling close to the stove to keep warm.
The dry logs soon caught fire, heating the cabin.
“Thank you,” I said.
He tipped his chin up at me and went back outside.
When it was time to get the bread out, the inside of the cabin was once again warm.
I placed the loaf on the counter and reluctantly turned the oven off, already mourning the loss of the additional heat source. After putting the jacket on that Gunner had packed into his emergency bag before he spirited us away to the woods, I went outside.
The smoke coming from the charcoals was hard to miss, and I wandered over to where Gunner was standing in front of the barbeque.
“Hey,” I said, standing off to the side.
He looked up from turning the meat over. “Hey.”
And that was the entirety of our conversation for the ten minutes I stood outside, watching the meat cook.
“This tastes delicious,”I said, finishing the last bite of my meat.
I’d gone all out for dinner and even added a candle to the table, deciding to save electricity. The low glow of the fire combined with a full belly lulled me into a happy state. It helped that I didn’t ask what the meat was and couldn’t see what I was eating too clearly.
After moving a few of the tins around, I even found an almost full bottle of whiskey. Which meant we had a drink to go with our food.
We didn’t talk much, but what little we said was pleasant. I wondered if he’d had too much to drink to mellow him out this much.
After finishing our three-course meal, consisting of a first course of bread, a second course of meat and the whiskey for dessert we moved to the couch.
I was mesmerized by the flames, enjoying having a fireplace. The whiskey was flowing through my veins, making me feel like I was floating on a cloud, encouraging me to lift my head.
“I’m sorry for what happened last time I saw you,” I blurted out.
Damn you, whiskey. Why did you go and make me say that?
His dark eyes within a handsome square face locked on mine. They shone with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. And here I thought I was well versed in Gunner-speak. I’d watched him for long enough.
I took another fortifying drink of my whiskey. It was going down smoother with each sip.Oh, screw that, what am I even saying? It still tastes like rat piss even after we’ve finished most of the bottle.
There came a point in a girl’s life when it was time to admit that some alcoholic beverages were better left poured into the sink.
“I didn’t handle it well,” Gunner said, surprising me.
