The weather doesn’t look promising.    It was only forty five degrees today and the sun is going down now. It has been threatening to snow all day and as the sun’s last rays paint the sky deepest purple the first flake skitters across her cheek.    She draws her knees up to her chin and leans back against the tree to wait.   Her eyes fly open when she hears a twig snap behind her. Her left hand drops from her knees to rest against her boot.    A soft chuckle brushes the back of her neck and a warm weight settles across her shoulders. “None of that now, it’s just me.”

Almost before she knew it she was in his arms, a cup of mulled cider poured from a thermos to warm her hands.   “What are you doing out here, the house is a lot warmer, I would’ve brought you outside when I got here.”  She laughed as she reached up to brush the snow out of his hair,” I didn’t want to miss the first snowflake, so I waited, besides I wanted to surprise you.” His arms tightened around her, “You certainly do that often enough.”

They sat there the rest of the night, talking, drinking cider, and watching the snow fall.   Despite the fact that he wasn’t usually a morning person, he nudged her awake in enough time to watch the sun come up before carrying her back inside to her bed. “I have to go now dear but I’ll leave something for you to keep warm with.”

She squinted against the sunlight invading her room, “Of course I have to wake up I always do when its a nice one.”  She rolled over to back to sleep and  froze    She was curled up under a heavy red wool blanket, the ends of which had been tucked securely underneath her feet.   It smelled of snow, cider, and…no way.   She sat up on the edge of the bed and stared. Her black boots stood underneath the bed, the same ones she wore in the dream….but they were still in the basement.   Weren’t they?    There was a letter on the table beside the bed.


You might want ti clean that.    If that’s the knife I think it is it needs it.   Hope the blanket keeps you warm.

Besides the letter there was a small boot knife in a handmade sheath and next to that the gun oil to clean it with.

“Wow” was the only word she could manage


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