You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology(83)

His shadow retreated into the bedroom. The faucet turned on, then off, and then he was climbing back into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her toward him as if they had been doing this for years.

And as if they had years to keep doing this.

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind, willing herself to focus on the pleasantness of the present as she drifted off to sleep.

*

Marc lay in bed, feeling just about perfect. He was warm, satiated, and Selina’s body fit perfectly against his, even if his right arm was beginning to fall asleep. He smiled as the perfect solution to his restlessness sprang into his head. Selina could come with him for the rest of his winter trip. His mind swayed off to sleep, buoyed by his dreams of the future and Selina.





Chapter Nine





Selina clutched the handhold above the passenger window as they bounced over the snow-dusted, rutted dirt road to the ice caves. As with the bird sanctuary the day before, this area of Idaho lacked heavy snow and high winds blew what little snow there was up in swirls. Swaths of black lava studded the landscape, a break between the dead grass and tops of sagebrush. Finally, they sprang their way under an arch announcing the ice caves and pulled into the parking lot.

There were three buildings, all made of logs and one clearly a house, probably for the people who ran the caves. One of the buildings was small, with restroom signs nailed to the wood. The largest building also had a sign for the caves—this one smaller and over the door. Between all the buildings and off to the side of the parking lot were statues, the smallest one taller than the roof of the buildings and the tallest one towering over the parking lot. There were several Native Americans, a couple of cavemen and cavewomen, and one dinosaur.

Marc put the SUV in park and turned the car off. “Well, should we go in and see what they’ve got?” he asked. “Though the statues alone might be worth the drive.”

His voice was warm and loving. It had been since they’d woken up this morning, naked limbs tangled together and a satisfied, safe feeling deep in her bones.

“You wanted to see the odd roadside attractions in Idaho, didn’t you?” She nodded her head to the statutes. “Those look about as odd as they come.”

“I don’t understand the dinosaur.”

She laughed. “Neither do I.”

“Come on,” he said, patting her knee. “Let’s see what this is all about.”

They both hopped out of the car and trotted to the information building. They didn’t hold hands, though they stood close enough that their hands brushed each other as they walked. When they reached the door, Marc gave it a hard tug. It was locked.

“Hey,” a voice called out from the porch. “We’re closed for the winter.”

They both turned around. An old man, with deep wrinkles and enough sun damage that Selina couldn’t tell his age beyond old, trundled toward them. A worn cowboy hat was pulled low over his head, and the work boots on his feet had clearly seen better days.

“Your website said to call for winter hours,” Marc said.

“Well, did you call?”

“Yeah,” Marc confirmed. “And no one answered.”

The man had crossed the parking lot and was now standing right in front of them. “If you called the number on the website, that one’s old. The missus and I don’t know how to change it, and our son keeps saying he’ll do it later.”

“How long has it been like that?”

“Couple years,” the man said with a shrug. “Most people out this way are more interested in skiing than in caves, so we don’t get many visitors, especially in the winter.”

“Can we have a tour anyway?” Marc asked.

“Caves are closed up for the season. Ain’t much to see.”

“I’ll update your website for you,” Marc offered.

Selina watched with interest as both Marc and the old man seemed to settle into faces primed for negotiation. The old man looked Marc up and down, glanced as his new SUV, and finally said, “That’s not enough to open the caves.”

“And we’ll pay you the tour cost.”

The old man considered them both, his keen eye noting Marc’s expensive ski jacket and Selina’s worn winter coat. “Where are you both from?”

“I’m from Athol,” Selina said, at the same time Marc said, “Seattle.”

“Which one is it?”

“I’m from Athol,” she answered. “Marc is from Seattle. He’s giving me a ride to Salt Lake City, and we’re stopping at touristy spots along the way.”

“That so.” The man rubbed at the white stubble on his chin. “That all seems a far bit out of your way. How do I know you can fix the website?”

“If you have the password, I can fix it.”

“He’s real smart with computers,” Selina attested, then giggled at the understatement.

“It’s on the fridge, for all that I know what to do with it.”

“Not only will I update your website but I’ll teach you how to do it yourself.”

The old man nodded once. “Son, you have yourself a tour.”

They were welcomed into the house and greeted by an older woman, also of indeterminate age, who smiled at the idea of their website being fixed and bustled off to get them some coffee. The furniture in the house was sparse, and what was there was threadbare. But after their coats had been hung up, they were led to a fairly new computer.