A Week in the Spring

So prim and proper, that’s what they think of her. I’ll show them, she thought to herself.

            The day was beautiful. The warm, spring air was swirling around her, tossing her long light brown hair up to the blue sky, and the white fluffy clouds smiling down on her. Yes, she would show them.

            “I’m not just some girl. I can take care of myself.” She said to herself. She squared her shoulders and walked into the beautiful green wood. So, what if she was what they called an “up town girl”, she could do anything she set her mind to. Including spending the next week in the woods.

            Maybe now I can get some work done, he thought. It was a glorious day, a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds playing against it. There was a slight, tangy breeze blowing around bringing the scent of pine and wild flowers to his nose.

            Yes, this is the perfect setting. He was on the edge of a quiet remote wood. In which he knew there was a cottage that no one ever used. He had planned to stay there. It was in good shape, and he didn’t think anyone would mind.

            She opened her cottage and walked inside. It was a bit dirty, as she hadn’t used it since her husband died 10 years ago. I’ll have to do some cleaning, but first I’ll cook myself some dinner.

            She put a pot of stew on the stove and left to get some fresh water from the river. The cottage didn’t have running water, so she’d have to carry it herself.

            The sun wasn’t to far from the horizon when he found the cottage. It was small, built for no more than three. Its roof was in good condition and covered in leaves. It was situated in a little glade in the middle of the forest. There was a river not far from it, he could hear the running water, that’ll make a great source of water and fish. He liked fish, it was excellent brain food.

            When he walked in he knew something was wrong. The house wasn’t empty. Someone’s here, and I am going to get caught! He could smell the delicious stew cooking. It smelled like beef stew.

            That’s when he heard it; the soft creek of the door opening, and the light quick footsteps. He turned around mouth agape, face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her auburn hair flowed in waves halfway down her back, her bright blue eyes were wide in shock, her soft pink lips slightly agape, and a bucket of fresh water hung in her hands slightly moving. She was tall and lithe, like an elf from the tales. Her slim dress is conservative, but elegant on her form.

            “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” she all but screamed, frozen in the doorway. Who was this man to come into her cottage? Had he no decency? He was about average height, with unruly black hair and soft doe-like brown eyes. He stood there in shock staring at her. Obviously, he hadn’t realized anyone would be here.

            After the initial shock she calmed down a bit. Maybe he was lost in the woods, it was getting late, and he probably figured it was just an abandoned cottage. She regained her composure and extended her hand.

            “I’m Laura Pickett. I’m sorry; you gave me a real scare. Who might you be?” she asked in a steady voice.

            God, she is stunning! He wanted to say that he was her knight in shining armor, but he didn’t. Instead, he said “I’m Chrisrian Powell. I’m a writer. I’m sorry; I didn’t know anyone lived here.”

            He looked her over. She seemed nice enough, if a bit stern. Maybe she would let him stay here to work.

            “Would you like to join me for dinner? You can tell me how you came to be here while we eat. I’m having beef stew.”

            “That would be very nice. Thank you.”

And so he and Laura went into the kitchen to eat.

“So you just thought you’d use this cottage for the week?” Laura asked. She had listened to Christian’s story and was a little annoyed. What right did he have to trespass on her property? But he was cute, and she would be a bit lonely in the middle of the forest by herself.

“Alright, you can stay with me. But you will have to work off your keep.”

“That’s fine by me, just don’t call the cops.” His eyes held a deep pleading. He was a starving artist, and she liked his company well enough. He was interesting, and reminded her slightly of her husband. How she missed him, he had died so long ago that it was like he never even existed. But the loss and loneliness still ate at her heart.

Well, that was luck! He had just been hoping she wouldn’t call the police, but now she was letting him stay here. She set him up in the living room (she took the only bedroom), and he was grateful.

Wow! I have amazing luck! No cops, a place to stay and work, and with a beautiful woman! I think this may just be the best week of my life…

She watched him closely from where she sat on the soft pink couch.. He seemed like a truly nice guy, but there was never any telling with people. Too many times she had been hurt by guys.

He sat there day after day, typing at his typewriter whilst she cleaned house. He wasn’t lazy; he did whatever she asked of him. He went fishing daily, cleaned his catches, and did the dishes. In fact several times he had even helped her cook, cut fire wood and hauled water for her. So why did she feel wary of him? He had never once made a move on her or acted as anything but a friend. Could it be that she wanted him to make a move?

She was sitting there working on sewing (she liked to sew, her grandmother had taught her how when she was a little girl), listening to the click, click, click of his typing when she made her venture.

“Would you like to come strawberry picking with me tomorrow? There’s a lovely patch down by the river, and I was thinking about making a short cake.”

Did she really just ask that? Christian wondered. He had been smitten with her since the beginning (in fact he had been composing a book of poetry about her and the forest along with his novel), but he did not want to press his luck.

            “Excuse me? I’m sorry; I was absorbed in my writing.”

            “Yes of course, I was simply asking if you would join me picking strawberries. That is if you aren’t too busy?”

            “I would love to go. I haven’t been berry picking since I was a young boy.”

            “O? You were a farm boy?”

            “Yes, my family lived in a small farm town out in Tennessee. It used to be one of my favorite pass times.”

            “I grew up in the city myself, one of those rich neighborhoods. But I visited my grandmother’s farm every summer. I loved to pick berries, and she taught me to cook and sew.”

            “I noticed you were very good with your hands.”

            “Well not near as good as she was, but I learned from the best.” She said laughingly. “No I never did tell you why I came here did I?”

            “No. I figured you were just coming to your spring cottage.”

            “No, not exactly. I haven’t been here since my husband died. He was killed in a hunting accident. I came to get away from my life. I’m considered to be prissy and stuck up. I wanted to prove that I didn’t need money. And prove to myself, that there was more to me than what people thought.”

            He watched as her face contorted with pain. He knew how cruel people could be. How being stereotyped hurt. He took out a cigarette and offered one to her.

            “No thank you. I don’t smoke.”

            The day bloomed, grey and overcast; Laura was always an early riser, but today she rose even before the sun began its flight through the heavens.  So, being that it was so early, she headed down to the river to take a bath and fetch water for breakfast.

            Today will be a glorious day. She decided. The river was nice and cool. It sloshed about her waist, whispering tales of what was going on in the mountains and the towns it passed through.

            Laura was a good swimmer. She had taken lessons as a child. “You can’t play around the water, unless you know how to fight its strength.” Her grandmother used to say, her youngest child had drowned in a pond near their home when he was just a toddler.

            Now Laura was grateful for those annoying lessons. She loved the feel of the water surrounding her body. She backstroked out to the middle of the river where she couldn’t touch the ground, and dove gracefully under the surface.

            Christian couldn’t sleep. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of Laura; of her beautiful form, her charm, her charisma, just her in general. How he wished he could hold her, to be with her forever. He would give anything just to be able to tell her that she was the love of his life.

            He had never been in love before; had never married, nor wanted children. Christian was a bachelor, and he loved it. No restraints, no one to worry about but himself. Now however, he felt that he was being tugged into pieces.

Why did I have to come here? Why now? Everything was so perfect. Now I can’t get that beautiful, audacious Laura out of my head! Not that he really wanted to. He enjoyed thinking of her, watching her delicate hands glide gently over the fabrics she sewed, or stroke lovingly at the fire in the kitchen that heated the cottage during the cool spring nights. How he wished those hands were in his!

So he headed down to the river to watch the sunrise. He hadn’t watched the sun climb to the heavens in so long. He remembered always watching the sunrise with his parents on their little farm.

He arrived just as the sun began to break; its glorious orange ball of flame rising like a phoenix against the smoky grey clouds. The sky burst into life, as birds fluttered up towards the sky to greet the dawn. The roof of the world was painted in an almost angry red, which faded into a soft pink, and finally a laughing blue.

            That’s when he saw her. She broke the surface of the water like some goddess long forgotten. Her wavy hair plastered to her back and around her chest like a wondrous waterfall. Her tall lithe figure was all the more elf like. Although emerging from the water as she did, she may more fittingly be a druid or water sprite. Her soft, pale skin glistened in the mourning light, and her eyes shone brighter than the sun!

Laura was returning from her swim when she saw Christian. He stood in shock, clearly not expecting to see her there. He looked as he had the first time she saw him. Terrified that he would be in trouble, mouth slightly agape, and eyes wide with fear. She blushed, and dove back under the surface of the water. When she surfaced for air again, she was slightly relieved to see Christian had gone.

So Laura dressed and returned to the cottage. Not knowing whether she was angry, upset, hurt, or just plain embarrassed.

“I am sooooo sorry!” Christian exclaimed when he saw her walking into the house. “I thought you were still asleep. I just wanted to watch the sunrise, I never meant to see you….you know…”

“Well I guess you got to see both the sun and myself rise,” she laughed “two for one special this mourning.” (Was she really saying that?)

“It’s alright Christian, I know you didn’t mean to. Let’s just go get the strawberries and put this mess behind us. Nothing we can do now anyway.”

It was the last day of their stay together. Laura was tidying up the cottage, and Christian was packing his things away (he had finally finished his story).

It’s now or never Christian. Today’s the last day, if you don’t say something now you’ll never get the chance!

O come on Laura! Get a hold of yourself girl. He doesn’t want you, doesn’t even know you!

But that doesn’t matter, I love him. And I’m tired of always being alone. She didn’t want to admit it even to herself, but it was true. So what should she do? Should she tell him that she loved him?

They were at the door of the cottage, neither wanting to be the first to walk out. The sun shown down, but in their little world of the forest it was the greyest day that had ever been seen.

The stood their gazing at each other, both lost in thought; Laura holding her trunks, and Christian holding his typewriter and suitcase. Could it be possible for two people to fall in love so quickly? Could they just stay in the forest for all of eternity, surrounded by the humming bees and twittering birds, the sweet cologne of wild flowers and pine?

“Well…ummmm….Thank you so much for your hospitality Laura.” Christian said haltingly, not wanting to leave her.

“O any time Christian.” She said, with a sad note in her voice. Then she did the most unexpected thing for either of them. She hugged him. They had never once touched, Christian was always careful of that. He wasn’t sure what he would do if their hands were to brush as he passed her the salt. He may come undone. But she hugged him, and he hugged her back.

“Would you come back to stay with me? Here in the cottage I mean. I think I’m going to make this my spring, and possibly even my summer home.”

“I would love to.”

Then it was done. There was no more to be said. Maybe Christian would tell her he loved her next spring. There was hope in the air. He had Laura, even if only for a week in the spring.