Snowed In(manxman)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Will heard the man come inside once again but he stubbornly remained wrapped in the blanket and stared into the fire. Two could play the ‘I’m-going-to-be-rude-to-you-for-no-good-reason-game’.

He heard the clanging of pots and when the scent of frying bacon reached his nose minutes later, Will’s mouth began to water. Even Beaux began to whimper and pant and Will was certain he heard the hound’s stomach growl.

The aroma of eggs soon joined that of the bacon and Will’s stomach tightened painfully. How long had it been since he’d had a real, home-cooked, warm meal? Months, a good six months. Thompson had seemed to believe he could live off of dried, crusty bread, jerked beef and dirty water.

Will mentally branded Beaux a traitor when the hound abandoned his post beside him and joined the man out beside the table. Will heard the sounds of eating but he was not going to do the man the honor of turning and glancing toward that kitchen. It wasn’t in his nature to hold grudges or be so stubbornly evasive but he was too mentally exhausted to deal with the other man who clearly had no problem being a jackass to someone he didn’t even know.

After several long moments of listening to both owner and Beaux enjoy their meal, Will heard the man stand and then head straight back out the door, slamming it behind him.

Will hated the tension. He had never been a man who liked tension. He liked to be open, honest and just have fun but clearly this man wasn’t that type of man. Will pushed himself to his feet, wondering why the other man had saved his life if he obviously hated him so.

Shoving those thoughts from his mind, Will let his shaking legs carry him to the table and he was surprised to see an untouched plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits. His gaze went to the single window beside the door and he saw the man striding into the barn with Beaux on his heels.

Why hadn’t the man simply invited him to come eat if he’d made him a plate?

More confused than he’d been before, Will sat down in the rickety chair and quickly began to gobble up the meal that the man had prepared. His hollow stomach was happy to finally have a true meal filling it. He ate half before his stomach let him know it couldn’t hold another bite.

Will raked the scraps into a bucket that already had scraps filling it and went back to the couch. He could see out the window that the snow was still falling quite heavily on top of the three feet that had already come down.

It seemed he was going to be stuck here awhile.

***

Will spent most of the day sleeping and as far as he could tell he spent it alone as well. The man came back in after dark and went about preparing supper.

When Will heard him sitting down to eat, he decided that he’d had enough of avoiding one another. Will was a person who liked people; he liked to interact with people and he enjoyed conversation. If he was going to be forced to stay in this cabin then the man was going to have to talk to him.

Will stood up and let the blanket fall to the sofa. His legs felt much stronger now than they had that morning and he was proud that he didn’t shake as he walked to the table.

The man had a plate sitting across from him that Will knew he’d made for him, “Thank you,” Will whispered, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

The man barely spared him a glance and merely grunted in response. Will sighed and sat down, “What is your name?”

“Turner,” the man grunted before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth.

Will grinned with triumph, happy to have even a small victory, “Nice to meet you, Turner. I’m Will.”