of these times are when I go with Luke to catch supper. We throw snow at each other and laugh at nothing. He opens up his world to me and tells me about the places he’s been—so many stories, so many different places. He paints me pictures in the air with his hand motions and tells me about his parents, their deaths, how he set out on his own, sleeping in boxes and train-cars and even trees. His adventures become fairy tales in the telling, full of adventure and mystery, and I soak them in and see them as they come alive.
I let him talk and enjoy the warm sound of his voice. I watch the way his smile makes little dimples in his cheeks and how the snow falls onto his broad shoulders. He treats me like a friend and I feel less and less of an Ice Witch, every time he brushes my arm with his hand, or gives me a little tap as he runs past, challenging me to a race. These memories fill me, and push back the ones I don’t want anymore.
And I love him for it.
I never say anything about him leaving again. I can’t think what I’d do if he did. What if, like Pa, he disappears into the flurry of white and Becca and I are left alone again? It’s strange and alien, caring, but I can’t help it. He really has no reason to stay, though. Maybe he’s waiting for Becca to finish her confinement, make sure she’s okay, and then he’ll leave.
My throat goes tight with the idea and urgency stirs. I can’t go back to how it was before he came. I wonder if I could work a spell to keep him here. Drawing him in with smoky lavender, knotting a thick rope to his pallet. A little crushed rabbit bone, a bit of ash from burning a piece of his shirt, sprinkled in the doorway, and wishing, wishing, wishing...
We walk home from one of our hunts and I find myself thinking about it. I frown at the snow and Luke comes up from behind me with the catch of three hares over his shoulder.
“What’s tuggin’ at you?” he asks, as he comes up to my side.
“Nothing,” I try to push the thoughts aside, forget the Ice Witch again and smile up at him. His nose is red from the cold, so I decide to tease him about it for a distraction. “You could light our way in a fog with that thing,” I point at him and release a giggle when he gives me an offended look.
He pretends to run into a tree, then falls with great theatrics, catch and all.
“You’re insane,” I say, shaking my head.
He rubs his nose. “I don’t think it works very well.”
“I think it’s your brain that needs fixing.”
He raises his hand so I can help him back up.
I take it and he yanks me, pulling me down into the snow with him. He chucks a bunch of snow, blocking my vision, then starts rubbing the icy flakes into my hair with a mischievous laugh.
I squeal and whack his hands away, half-heartedly telling him to stop.
He complies and falls onto his back, huffing out big puffs of icy air. “Who’s the fool now?”
I let myself fall beside him and we lie together, arms nearly touching, staring at the treetops, catching our breath.
It’s quiet for a long while, my clothes soaking in the melting ice beneath me. I barely feel it as I listen to the creaking limbs above and the thump of snow clumps falling. To the sounds of Luke shifting beside me.
He breaks the silence first. “Do you know why you frightened me that first night?” he asks.
I go still inside, shocked and confused by his question. Why’s he bringing that up now? “You thought I was a witch,” I say, quietly, “that I would eat you.”
He laughs again, a loud, surprised laugh. “Yes, the Ice Witch, you were. But that’s not why I was frightened of you.”
I sit up and stare at him. “It wasn’t?” I can’t think of any other reason.
His smile shifts, growing timid. His nose and cheeks get even redder.
He clears his throat and sits up beside me. “It was just…When I saw you that first day I did think of...of the man that disappeared.”
I’m glad he didn’t say that man’s name