He squeezed my hand and I began to cry. A real cry for once. I cried for the loss of Mark’s life. I cried for the loss of a relationship that had run its course even though I couldn’t let go. And finally, after months of hiding by hiking, I cried for me.
“Hey. Shhhh,” he soothed. “Come here.”
Dirk lifted me from the chair and held me close. The need to push away and escape his kindness was there, but I forced myself to accept the gesture. He was the first person to hold me in over a year. No one had thought to ask what I needed. No one said a damn thing after extending condolences. Once the flowers died and the sympathy cards stopped arriving via the mail, their lives had gone back to normal. Mine hadn’t.
I stepped back and stared into his eyes. Dirk was incredibly masculine in his presence and yet here he was, this big, goofy, lovable jock dude, consoling and connecting with me. I’d been way off base. He wasn’t an asshole at all. We remained connected. Me finally feeling an emotion other than hurt. Him unsure of what move to make. We were involved in a true heart-to-heart, and I was feeling a stirring within, but neither of us could figure out what had happened in the past three hours.
He cleared his throat and let go of me. “Let’s find you some clothes,” he said, exactly when I was about to kiss him.
“Okay,” I whispered, watching as he turned and headed for the closet.
“You’re a bit smaller than me,” he observed. “But I bet we can find something to your liking.”
I agreed. I bet we could.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Dirk
“You’re not gonna like the answer,” I warned.
“What?” Blake responded. “There isn’t one?”
“Oh, there is, but it’s at the bottom of the hundred or so stairs in a small building with the generator.”
“You’re joking,” he stated. “There’s really no bathroom up here?” he questioned, quickly checking out the four different corners of the square space.
“A toilet and shower is at the ground level where the source of water from a well is located,” I began. “And here’s the best part,” I added. Blake sat down and stared at me, his knees together because he had to pee after seven cups of coffee. “A shower requires firing up the generator, then letting the small hot-water heater warm up six gallons of water, and then you can take a very quick shower in a non-heated eight-by-eight shed. Whattaya think?”
Blake wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered. “Down a hundred steps?” he asked. I nodded. “In that snow?” He gestured to the windows he wouldn’t look out of. “I’m…well, I’m sort of afraid of heights,” he mumbled.
I leaned closer to him. “Come again.”
He turned away and blushed. “I don’t like heights,” he confessed. “Or being cold.”
My eyebrows immediately shot up. “But you chose to go nearly five thousand feet high into the mountains, with a threat of a late snowstorm, armed with only a tarp?”
Blake nodded. “Dumb, right?”
I would have liked to tell him it was the stupidest fucking thing I’d ever heard of but his fears seemed real and I just wasn’t that type of guy. “Let’s kill two or three birds at once. Whattaya say?” I asked. He glanced toward me hopefully. “I have two foil thermal blankets up here, so let’s wrap up, put boots on, and I’ll help you down to the building underneath us.”
“On snow-covered stairs?” he asked.
“Yes. Let’s assume they’re covered in snow, but I’ll go first and you can hold onto my back so we can take it slow.”
“In nothing but a foil blanket and boots?” he inquired. “What if I have to poop?”
I suppressed a laugh. “While on the steps or in the bathroom?”
“Maybe both,” he confessed while I still fought a desperate need to burst out laughing.
I was suddenly confronted with the fact that my guest was not the bold, brash, outdoorsy adventurous man I’d assumed he was. He was a hiker for sure, but I now thought that was the extent of it. He had the entire setup with his old, beat-up, all-wheel-drive Subaru, and the fancy clothing, but he was also a bit timid. I liked timid, sweet, and a bit soft. Blake was turning out to be the type of guy that hit me where he could do real damage: my heart. I had a nurturing and protective nature. A need to provide, protect, and take care of my partner, and he was someone that I clearly saw as needing protection or, at a minimum, care. I was good at that role. I was also good at thinking men needed my caring nature. Many times I was wrong.
“I promise I’ll be there for you every single step,” I stated. “And that includes all the way down and all the way up. The shed will be cold as shit too. Just so you know.”
“But you promise we’ll be safe?”
“Absolutely.”
After witnessing his fear and reluctance, I decided to make things easier on Blake, so I went down to the shed first and fired up the generator to heat the water. I took a small space heater from the cabin down with me as well to lessen the frosty temps. The less time he spent waiting for hot water, the better for his slight frame. He was a good fifty pounds lighter than I was. He was lean and had muscles but certainly no spare pounds to insulate against the brutally cold weather.
