Annabelle, lining the other three up on the nearby stove.
“Pour yourself some coffee, and then you can have your pick of beds upstairs. Sorry about the accommodations, but this is all we got…I suppose you knew that though.”She winked at Annabelle then poured the hot brown liquid into the other three cups. “I’m goin’ to go have a heart to heart with those cowboys.” Gathering up the cups she headed to the door. “Annabelle, thanks for helpin’ with the dishes.” Then she was gone, her slight frame slipping out into the gray evening.
Annabelle didn’t feel like coffee, so instead she hiked up her skirts and climbed the ladder into the dark loft. A gray dusk had settled in the window but added no light to the little space. She saw the silhouette of an oil lamp on a nightstand between two single beds. Carefully she walked around the wooden bed frame and lit a match which was in the wooden trough on the table. The room sprung to life under the yellow glow and she looked around.
The room was not big, probably the same size as the loft at her home. That is where her brothers had slept, and she had only been up there to gather linens and laundry, make beds, and do some tidying. This room was just as little, nearly the same; both beds against the wall where the rafters met the wall supports. The peak of the roof was in the middle of the room and she found she could stand erect in the very center. She wondered how these big men managed in such a tiny spot. On the wall next to the window was a wooden rod which held several long-sleeved work shirts and a couple dress shirts. Slung over the base of each bed was a second pair of pants.
She stood at the foot of the beds wondering which ones were Logan’s. Picturing him up here made her heart race a bit. She couldn’t put a finger on her feelings towards him. One moment she hated him entirely for taking her right out of her life with no concern for anything, and the next she was completely enthralled with him. She found herself next to the shirts and one hand reached out and touched the soft worn fabric of a red plaid shirt, and she wondered which shirts were his. He hadn’t seemed too happy about her staying in his space. It was a rather intimate thing to be standing in the room of a man. Her heart raced a little faster and she tried to push the thoughts from her mind. Alarmingly, she wondered which of the two beds was his and her heart did a little dance in her chest. Trying to calm the frantic pace she promised herself when she figured out which bed was his she would sleep in the other one. The room was suddenly warm and she hurried to the window to let in some air. The frame slid effortlessly up and the cool evening air rushed in to the confined space. Peeking her head out she could see the corner of the barn door and wondered how Mama’s talk with the boys was going.
Not wanting to think anymore about it she went to the first bed. It was made neatly and as she bent near it she smelled the unmistakable tang of Logan. It was like the prairie in the breeze, sagebrush, juniper trees and peppermint. She closed her eyes and took a deeper breath remembering how he had smelled the day before on the horse. Surprised she easily recalled his scent, his warmth, and the sound of his breathing. She could feel his arm tightly around her waist when she almost fell off the horse, and how his heartbeat felt against her skin. She remembered his lips so close to her ear when she had tried to escape. Her mind snapped back into focus and she hurried away trying to leave her traitorous thoughts at the foot of his bed. It might have been the chilly air or something more which had caused her to feel that way, but it didn’t matter, it was like nothing she had ever felt before.
Eyeing the bed as if it might come alive and eat her she carefully undid the buttons on the front of her blouse. The heavy dress slipped off and onto the
Learning to Kill: Stories