Free Nowhere Wild by Joe Beernink Page B

moss into the offending gap between the logs. The brief exposure to the colder air made her teeth chatter. She hesitated only slightly before pulling off her coat and slippers and crawling back under the covers. The bed was now toasty warm, with its thick layer of pine boughs covered in deerskin, two sleeping bags, and blankets over the top of them. She shivered as it sucked the cold from her bones.
    â€œSlide over here, hon. You’re freezing.” Rick lifted the covers slightly. Warm air trapped between the layers looped around her. She slid slightly closer to the center of the bed. She had worn a groove along the outermost edge of the mattress, as far away from Rick as possible, but the cot was barely wide enough for two to begin with. With her tiny shift, the heat from his body extended warming tentacles around her.
    Rick moved, his arm pushing up against her side. It seemed innocent enough, but Izzy knew better. A half dozen times he had done that since she had moved from the floor to the bed. The last time he had done it, his hand had worked its way onto her stomach. A few times during the night, she had awoken from a deep sleep with a start, as if something had been crawling on her. Rick had quickly turned over and away from her, feigning sleep.
    Izzy hesitated before slowly rolling onto her side, facing away from him. The pine boughs under the deerskin dug into her, especially on her thin shoulders and hips. She could deal with the discomfort. It gave her an extra bit of space.
    â€œYou know, back when Lois and I and Brian used to come up here, we all crammed into this little shack. It was so peaceful and we had so much fun,” he said wistfully. “Brian used to fish from dawn to dusk. That lake is just chock-full of fish, Isabelle. By the second day, we’d always have our limit and be dumping them back. Wasn’t no better place than here.”
    â€œMust have been crowded with the three of you in here,” Izzy said. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim room. The ghosted outlines of the stove and woodpile formed monsters in the dark.
    â€œDidn’t seem that way, not when Brian was young. By the time he got older, he’d put up a tent by the shore and Lois and I would snuggle up in here.”
    â€œYou weren’t here in the winter then,” Izzy said.
    â€œNaw, we never made it up here in the winter. Lois wasn’t much on really roughing it. She’d do it, but if the weather turned, she’d be tellin’ me to get on the radio to have the plane come back and pick us up,” Rick said with a chuckle.
    â€œSmart woman,” Izzy said.
    â€œShe always thought so. Said a vacation shouldn’t be something you have to come back and recover from. She always wanted to go to Mexico or Jamaica or somewhere. That was her idea of a good vacation.” Rick moved and the distance between them shrank a bit more.
    â€œDid you ever do it?” Izzy asked. She coughed as cold air bubbled up from another draft. Her hand moved forward to see how much room she had to the edge of the bed.
    â€œNope. Never went. Never had the money. Should have done it though. Should have figured it out.” He moved again. His leg touched her curled-up feet. She pushed it back with her heel. Sliding any farther forward would pitch her onto the floor.
    â€œAngie always wanted to go to Europe,” Izzy said, trying to ignore the movement behind her. Sometimes, when she talked like this, Rick would grow bored and go to sleep. Brian had said she could talk the ears off a stalk of corn when she wanted to. “Paris and Barcelona,” she continued. “She used to talk about touring the museums and eating bread and cheese under the Eiffel Tower. Wanted to see the fashion shows, the museums, the stores.” Izzy thought back to the stack of magazines by Angie’s bed in their old house. She read anything that had anything to do with life in the big cities. Angie wasn’t