Under the Northern Lights(37)
I had acclimated to the rigors of wilderness living, and I was even starting to have fun doing my chores. Well, not so much the water gathering. Walking right up to the edge of an ice shelf on a swiftly flowing river never became less nerve-racking. I kissed my cross and said a prayer of thanks after every successful trip. I’d become such an expert at wood chopping, though, that—in addition to having the sexiest arms of my life—I also had time to spare most days. Michael let me join him on his trap run when I was all caught up and didn’t have anything else to do.
Walking through the quiet, snow-laden forest with Michael by my side, I began to forget that this wasn’t a typical existence. Being out here with him just seemed so incredibly natural. As we approached our third trap of the day, I spotted a lump of fur inside the sprung device. Grin on his face, Michael carefully pulled the hinge back so he could remove the dead animal.
“What is it?” I asked, trying not to look directly at the face of the deceased creature.
Slipping it into the basket backpack he was wearing, Michael said, “It’s butter, flour, toothpaste, and fresh batteries. That’s what it is.”
I had to smile at his answer. Michael wasn’t doing this for sport; he was doing it for survival. There were things he needed that the land here couldn’t provide. Like in the pioneer days, trade was essential, and in the wilderness, furs were gold. “Good,” I told him as he reset the trap. “Let’s see if we can find some chocolate, toilet paper, and pillows to go with it.”
Michael laughed at my requests. As I watched his lips curve into a smile, a bit of melancholy slipped into me. If he actually did purchase those things, I wouldn’t benefit from them. I’d be gone. Back home with my dogs and my family. Michael would have to enjoy them without me.
Seeing my expression fall, Michael asked, “What’s wrong? Are you too cold? We could take a break—I could make a fire.”
He was scrutinizing me, trying to see if that was my issue. It wasn’t, but his thoughtfulness was sweet. Yet another thing I’d miss. “No, I’m fine . . . we don’t have to stop. I’m actually enjoying this.” And enjoying you. I didn’t mention that, though.
He smiled. “Good. It’s nice to have company.” His grin turned sheepish, and he looked away.
The embarrassment of his smile perked my spirits back up. “Where’s the next one?” I asked.
Flicking a glance my way, he nodded to our left. “Up that way.”
Adjusting my own basket backpack, I began trudging in the direction he’d indicated. “Let’s go then. Lots to do before the daylight fades.”
Michael laughed as he fell into step behind me. “Yeah, and we don’t want to miss the fireworks.”
That made me stop in my tracks. “Fireworks?” I asked, confused. Unless he was lighting stuff off, we were way too far from civilization to see anything. And why would there be fireworks anyway?
He grinned as he adjusted his pack. “Yeah, fireworks. Can’t celebrate New Year’s Eve without them.”
I blinked in surprise. He was so good at keeping track of time; I’d already lost count of the days on multiple occasions. “Oh . . . that’s right.”
Shrugging, he said, “There won’t be any actual fireworks, of course, but I thought we’d sit outside for a while and see if we can catch Mother Nature’s show.”
He looked up at the sky, clear for once instead of a hazy gray, and I instantly knew what he meant. “The northern lights?” My grin was unstoppable.
Michael nodded. “Yeah. It can be tricky to see, and we’ll have to stay up late to get the best chance, but if we’re lucky . . . it’s pretty spectacular. Best show on earth.”
Even though it would be late and cold, I couldn’t think of a better plan for tonight. It sounded . . . wonderful, and I was instantly filled with contentment; right now, there was nowhere else I’d rather be. Not even home.
It took us the rest of the day to check the remaining traps, and there were quite a few surprises waiting for us when we did—powdered milk, canned vegetables, dried beans, candles, and matches. Assigning every fur we collected a commodity value made the day kind of exciting. And even though I wouldn’t be partaking in the spoils, I was still happy for Michael. He needed this.
Later that evening, after the furs had been prepared and stored for the night, Michael and I sat down to an amazing venison stew dinner. There were candles on the table and the last of the moonshine in our cups. Maybe because today had been truly productive, maybe because of the holiday, maybe because of the event we were going to try to witness, I was full of good spirits. For this brief moment in time, everything was perfect.
“Have you ever seen the northern lights?” Michael asked, stirring his spoon around his bowl.
“Surprisingly enough, no. I’ve never managed to catch it on my trips up here. Of course, I was trying to make the most out of my daylight, so I went to bed early, got up early.”
He nodded like he understood. “I’ve only seen it twice myself. I’m looking forward to seeing it with you,” he added, a sparkle of joy in his eyes.
For once, he didn’t look away after his sweet comment, and our gazes locked. A contented sigh escaped me, and Michael’s smile grew. The peace I saw on his face mirrored my own, and I loved that he was happy . . . loved that I was happy. I desperately didn’t want to do anything that might kill the hopeful spirit in the air, but sometimes it was difficult to know what to do and what not to do. Bringing up the past altered Michael’s mood, while mentioning the future dampened mine. Staying in the here and now was the only way to ensure the vibe between us didn’t change, and that was tricky, like walking an emotional tightrope.