Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Of course, the minute I had her in my arms and that stupid thought, the wind started howling around the cabin.
She clung to me harder, her face pressed against my chest. “Don’t suppose you can braid in the dark?”
I chuckled and held her tighter. “I could try, but you might look funny unless we sit in front of the fire. Let me grab some candles to light, I can use the flashlight on my cell.”
“Still no service?”
“Nope.” I gently release her. “Are you going to be okay if I put you back on the couch?”
“No,” she grumbled. “Can I just walk with you? By your side?”
I almost dropped my phone and said that’s all I’d ever wanted, to have someone to stand next to me in a world that felt so foreign and alone. “Sure.”
We quickly found the candles and started setting them up around the fireplace mantle and on the table away from the bed, and a few in the kitchen.
Not what I expected my night to go like after seeing her with my friend, after going into my room and feeling desolation, along with this strong need to connect with my father the only way I knew how.
Journaling where he used to, in his cabin.
Telling him I was struggling, I was under pressure, and imagining him setting next to me in a cable-knit sweater and patting me on the knee. Apparently, that’s what he did when people were upset, he would reach across with a smile and pat them on the knee as if to say, it’s going to be okay, chin up.
He’d had thick wavy gray hair all his life and even before death carried a comb with him everywhere he went because he didn’t want his servants fussing over it.
I was told I had the same wavy dark hair he’d had at my age. I was also told I was a spitting image of him.
I hoped I could be that on the inside and out.
“I think that’s it.” My voice rasped. I couldn’t keep the emotion out of it, I felt like I knew him through his journals, and it was hard knowing he died around this time and left me his light so I could shine too. And what a reminder, as I looked around, all of the candles lit, even in the darkness—you can still shine. “Let’s go ahead and get some sleep.” I was about to plug in my phone when I realized duh no electricity, so I turned on the flashlight again, ready to tuck her in, when Samira pulled my hand. “My hair?”
“Oh, right. Sorry, lost in thought.” I walked her back over to the couch. “Can you sit on the ground and I’ll sit behind you?”
She nodded and promptly sat on the ground with the blanket covering her feet, I reached over the couch for the fallen brush, then sat down behind her.
Her dark hair was stunning like silk as it ran through my fingertips. I couldn’t stop brushing, at one point her head lolled forward.
I cleared my throat.
“Sorry, it just feels really nice to have your hair brushed.”
The brush stopped. “Nobody’s ever brushed your hair?”
“My maids, but they tug, you’re softer, despite your huge hands.”
My abrupt laughter filled the room. “It feels nice too, being the one brushing.”
Her breath hitched. I couldn’t tell if she stiffened out of being offended or if it was something else.
Sadly, I set the brush down and started a french braid, it didn’t take long, I was fast at it, I wanted the moment to be more than ten minutes while the fireplace breathed light and flickered onto the side of her face. While I stared down at her in awe.
She wasn’t spoiled.
She was lonely.
Beautiful and afraid.
Most of the bravest people tend to be the most fearful of all, because they’re aware of what they could lose and the cost it might take.
I grabbed a rubber band from the bottom of the brush and wrapped it tightly around the bottom of the braid, then pressed my hands against her shoulders.
Slowly, her hands hesitated in her lap before she shakily brought them up and put them over the top of mine.
We stayed like that in silence while the wind howled.
Soon enough her head lolled to the side again, her hands dropped. I moved around her and lifted her up with the blanket and set her on the bed while I opened up her side. The sheets were freezing. I tucked the blanket over the top of the comforter, took off my boots and socks, looked down at my pants and just went screw it, she knew I wouldn’t touch her. I kept my sweater on, and crawled into bed next to her, turning the other way.
It was going to be a long night.
I had no idea what time it was when I suddenly had her plastered against my body, waking me up from a dead sleep. Teeth chattering, she pressed her head against my back. “Please take your sweater off, please.”