Page 84 of The Merger
“That no one comes out here in the winter,” she said and dropped into a chair next to me.
I nodded. “Not only that but also, we’re too far away to walk out of here.”
We sat in silence for a bit trying to come to terms with the fact we were going to be here until the spring. The rumbling sound echoed again, this time Sabrina heard it too.
I pulled my wet pants back on and went to the door. A flicker of light caught my attention, and instead of disappearing this time, the sound kept getting louder, and if I wasn’t mistaken, closer.
“Is that a truck?” Sabrina asked, and clutched at my arm.
My mouth went dry. It sounded like some kind of vehicle, but I was afraid to even entertain the idea that someone might find us.
The sound got louder and louder then came to a stop in front of the house. Neither of us moved. I’m not sure we even breathed. A door opened and closed, and the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow approached the door.
The front door opened slowly, and an older woman stood in the threshold. I expected a look of shock or fear, after all, we were trespassing, but she wasn’t surprised to see us standing near her table.
She came in. Shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. Next, she took off her snow encrusted boots. Calmly, she set her keys down on the side table before she finally turned our direction.
There was something about her that was captivating. She had to be somewhere in her early seventies, but she was far from the image of a frail old woman. Her silver hair was cut to her shoulders and framed a regal face that wore lines proudly.
Her pale blue eyes assessed us the same way we were sizing her up. “There’s no vehicle outside except for mine and nothing around here for miles. Which means I’m guessing the two of you have a hell of a story.”
* * *
Together Sabrina and I told her about the pilot ditching the plane, how I controlled the crash, and how we ended up at her cabin.
“Of course, we’ll pay you for all of the food and firewood and for the use of your cabin,” I told her as we finished our story.
She waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t charge friends.”
“But we’re just two strangers who happened upon your cabin. It was a lifesaver for us, but you shouldn’t have to be put out for that,” Sabrina argued.
“I’m Claire, and we’ve got a bit of a ride down into town, so I promise you by the time we get there we’ll feel like old friends. Besides, I was only coming up here to check on the place. My husband is older, and can’t get around like he used to. We haven’t been able to come up here for months.”
Sabrina looked at me, and for the first time I saw the future and everything I was asking her to accept. Right now everything was good, but someday she’d be sitting where Claire is, basically alone because I’d be too old to participate in our life together.
“How much older is your husband?” I asked her without thinking.
She grabbed her keys and nodded to the door. “Let’s chat on the way.”
We didn’t have stuff, so we were out in the car in a matter of minutes after she made sure the house was shut down properly. Once she was behind the wheel, she finally answered me. “My husband is fifteen years older than me. We met when I was in my twenties, but we didn’t get together until I was thirty, and we married within months.”
She looked sideways at me. “You’re older than Sabrina, aren’t you?”
I nodded. It was pretty clear that there was a gap in our ages. I knew I still looked good for my age, but that didn’t mean there weren’t some strands of silver emerging in my dark hair, or that there weren’t some fine lines around my eyes. Sabrina didn’t have either of those things yet.
“And you’re afraid that you’re going to be a burden to her?”
I shrugged. She was very astute. Almost scarily so.
“Styker, you can’t think like that,” Sabrina interjected.
“How can I not?” I looked over at Claire and hoped she saw I was sincere. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to assume, but I don’t like the idea that one day Sabrina will be handling everything on her own because I’m too old to help her.”
“That’s just life. Sickness and health aren’t just something to say. My husband has been an amazing partner and still is. He’s eighty-five now, and even though mentally he’s still sharp as a tack, he can’t get around like he used to. He’s also a stubborn old goat and didn’t believe anyone when we told him he needed to cut back. So God went and drove the point home. He’ll be fine, this time. He’s just having to use a cane for a bit since he fell trying to clean the gutters. Thankfully he hadn’t gone too far up the ladder or the story would have had a different ending. But that’s the thing. Life has an expiration, and if you are constantly worried about what will happen way down the road, you’re going to miss the scenery right here and now.”
She left me with a lot to think about on our path down the mountain. The slick roads and hairpin turns took her focus, so we didn’t have a lot of time to keep talking. She was right about feeling like we were friends though. Something about her left us feeling like we’d known her for years.
The further down the mountain we went, the less snow was on the ground. By the time we were out of the mountain, all signs of winter were gone and fall was back. The trees were gone, and the landscape was in monochromatic shades of brown, with the occasional tumble of sagebrush blowing across the road.