Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Chaper Twenty Seven

Sunlight filters through the boards on the windows, warming the skin of my face. If it weren't for the uncomfortable ground I'm sleeping on, it would be quite peaceful. Keeping my eyes closed I soak in the warmth and relish in the peace while it lasts, for I know shortly things could change drastically.

I shift around on the sleeping bags and feel Joel behind me, pressed up against my back. With the realization of how close we are, my eyes shoot open and my body freezes. Breath catches in my throat as I focus on just how warm and inviting he feels. His broad chest is up against my shoulder blades, and it would be easy for me to lean back into him.

But I don't melt into his touch like I so desperately want to. Instead, I scoot further away from him, knowing he'd likely feel uncomfortable if he woke up and we were that close. Plus, if I did give into my temptation, it would make parting ways that much more difficult.

Sitting up, I go to look out of the window covered with boards to see if anyone is lingering around, alive or infected. My eyes dart back and forth for any sign of movement but there's nothing to be seen out there. Everything is utterly silent.

The silence is welcome after the last few days. My body still feels tired and worn, and I find myself missing my excuse of a mattress back in Boston. But soon I may be back on it once more. I wonder what all has changed in Boston since I left. I wonder if James was able to pick up where I left off and is still running pills, or if he passed it all on to someone else. I know his wife would be more than happy to see him put the pills down.

"Good mornin'" Joel's voice startles me out of my thoughts and I turn to face him. He's sat up and looking at me, an unfamiliar light in his eyes. 

"Good morning." I answer, a small smile on my face. Leaving the window, I sit across from him and wait to see what he says.

Nerves tingle all over as I brace myself for the inevitable "it's time we go our separate ways" speech. Knowing Joel, that speech will likely only be a sentence or two. But in the back of my mind, I can still hear the way he told me I was family. And for a split second I wonder if our paths are not going to diverge after all.

"You ready to get out of here today?" He asks, rubbing his hands together. I nod my head in response.

"More than ready." I say, glancing back at the window knowing that anyone could be lingering out there right now.

"Good. How about we crack open some of these cans and then hit the road? We've still got a ways to go." He says, getting up and moving towards his small food stockpile.

"Where are we going?" I ask, watching as he grabs two cans.

"Jackson, Wyoming." He answers and hands a can to me. I see that he's kept the beans for himself and handed me some tomato soup.

"Wyoming?" I ask, unsure if I heard him correctly. He nods his head.

"Yeah. Unless you don't want to come?" His eyes glance from the can up to my face, where I can tell he's searching for my answer. I take a moment to digest what this means, my heart feels so full like it could just fall out of my body at any given second.

"I would love to." I finally answer. A ghost of a smile finds its way onto Joel's face and he pulls out his knife to open our cans.

"I think you'll like it there." He says and curiosity gets the best of me.

"What's it like?" I ask, having only heard bare minimum of what his family's living conditions are in Wyoming. Throughout this entire journey he's taken specific care to remain vague about his family and now it seems like he's ready to lay it all out in the open.