Chapter 40 | SNOWBALLS AND SMILES

It has been ten days, almost a week and a half, since that two a.m. confession to Vaughn.

After I had finished telling him everything, he had been silent for a few moments, taking in all that I had told him. And then he quietly said something that surprised me: "I'm sorry that you had to experience that."

And, at that point, I was torn.

I know that it's just something someone says when they don't know what else to say, but one part of me didn't want him to be sorry or even say that he was. The other part of me was just surprised that he actually said those first two words.

When I didn't respond, he continued on, softly stating: "Thank you for telling me."

And in all honesty, the first statement, paired with the second, was enough to comfort me at that moment. Because coming from Vaughn, that was a lot.

And even so, I thought that just the fact that he listened was considerate enough on its own.

I had been apprehensive about telling him because I was afraid he would judge me and what I had done. And maybe he did.

But at least he did it wordlessly.

Since that night, however, we've spent our time going about our usual routines of chores and recreation. He's taught me how to make some more dishes, and while I still wrote all the recipes down in a notebook, I tried my best to remember.

He also eventually beat me at chess, which was quite a sad day, in my eyes.

I've gotten better and more consistent when shooting the bow, and now I bring it with me on every walk we go on. Vaughn insists on continuing on "making the rounds," even though I contend that it's pointless.

He's still a quiet man, time with me won't change his whole nature. However, all in all, we do talk more and spend more time together.

Maybe he feels that since I opened up to him, he should try to make an effort to do the same.

And hey, I'm not going to complain. I like learning more about the man, as I've always been quite inquisitive when it comes to him.

I mean, I have always known that I've liked mysteries. They're the genre I read the most.

And I'm even currently living one, with trying to find out what happened to John.

But Vaughn's also a mystery, as he still has not breathed a word about what he did that caused him to move out here.

I'm not sure if I'll ever know; all I do know, however, is that I refuse to push him to open up.

He will if he wants to.

Today is Friday, and I plan on leaving for the village in two days, on Sunday, December 15th.

I'm sure Vaughn will accompany me there, again.

Or at least, I hope he will.

If it weren't for him being there the last time, I would not have even known those wolves were nearby. Well, at least not until they were eating me alive, probably.

It's late afternoon, almost 3:30, and the sun is setting as I step outdoors.

Vaughn's gotten a bonfire going in the cave, just like he did last night, and when I reach it, I see Moose is, as assumed, laying down near it also.

I walk over to them happily, watching as the dog's tail begins to wag as soon as he sees me.

"So, what's new?" I ask randomly, coming up to stand in front of the fire.

Vaughn merely raises an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I ask. "I can't ask a harmless question?"

He shakes his head, the left side of his mouth, lifting up slightly as he looks at the fire. "I didn't say anything."

Yes, well, that's basically your thing.

Glancing at the dog, I remember the pictures John took of him when he was a puppy. The ones where he's trying to catch multiple little snowballs.

And suddenly, I get an idea.

Reaching down, I scoop up some snow and compact it in my hands to form a snowball.

Then, I quickly click my tongue twice to get the dog's attention. "Hey, Moo-Moo."

He rises, starting to trot over, so I toss it up in his direction. He sees it and jumps, biting at it as it breaks apart around his head.

I laugh as I see his face is covered in white as a result.

"Why haven't I done this before?" I ask, mainly to myself.

Vaughn merely stays silent, observing the two of us.

Reaching down, I make another, and the cycle goes on for a couple of minutes as I continue watching him jump and bite at the snowballs.

Dogs always bring me such pure joy.

"Oh, my God," I say all of a sudden, accidentally causing Vaughn to give me his sole attention.

"What?"

"You think maybe he thinks they look like giant marshmallows?"

Vaughn pauses.

And then he does something I haven't seen since I was Jane Smith.

He smiles.

Not...entirely. It's a small smile, sure, but this time, it's genuinely real as he looks down at his dog.

"Perhaps," he answers, his smile fading quickly.

He can pretend like it didn't happen...but it did. I saw it. He can't erase it from my memory by acting cold again.

Either way, I smile back, continuing on playing with the dog.

After, I run and grab the marshmallows from the cabin so Moose and I can have a few. When I come back, I find the same roasting stick that Vaughn had made me leaning against the side of the cave.

Grabbing it, I stick it in the fire for a few moments before turning to Vaughn.

"When was the last time you had one?" I inquire, referring to the marshmallows.

He glances up at me, seeming hesitant. "Why?"

"It's just a harmless question, not some vicious interrogation."

"I don't know, maybe ten years or so."

"When was the last time you roasted one?"

"Why?"

I internally roll my eyes, amused. "I'm just curious as to if you actually know how to roast one or not."

He doesn't waste any time with his reply. "Of course I know how to roast a marshmallow, Mikaere."

"But can you do it well?" I lift up my stick to show him my perfectly golden toasted marshmallow.

He pauses. "You want to see if I can toast a marshmallow well?"

I shrug, tossing the stick in between my hands. Then, I suggest, "A marshmallow roasting competition."

He shakes his head, looking serious, but nonetheless, holds out his hand for the stick and bag of treats.

Moose looks between us, tail whipping back and forth, and I almost feel guilty about eating the food he adores most in the world.

I observe silently as Vaughn crouches down in front of the fire, moving his stick near the flames, "You're gonna burn it probably."

After a second, he glances back up at me, and I immediately struggle to not laugh. Since his eyes remain trained in my direction, I try to keep a straight face as I watch his marshmallow catch on fire.

"I am not going to burn it."

Nodding, I respond, "Whatever you say."

He rolls the stick around, effectively starting the other side on fire, too. "Thank you for your faith in me," he says dryly.

I smile, regarding his expression as he turns to see that his marshmallow has been on fire practically the whole time.

"You're welcome."

He blows the fire out, reluctantly glancing at me.

I immediately walk over to him before tilting down the end of the stick that he still holds and sliding the burnt marshmallow off of it.

Then, I eat it, ignoring how hot it is.

"What are you doing?" He asks, caught slightly off guard.

I complete one of my defining gestures by raising an eyebrow. "What does it look like?"

"I thought you only liked the golden toasted marshmallows?"

I shrug, "And the burnt ones."

"That's disgusting."

I feign being offended for a split second before proceeding to lick and suck off the stickiness from my fingers.

Vaughn clears his throat as he still stands there in front of me, watching me as he continues awkwardly holding the stick.

But since he doesn't say anything else, I decide to. "I'm gonna go get some water. You should try it again. Maybe you'll do better if you're not so distracted."

And with that, I walk back to the cabin, smiling felicitously to myself.

The next morning and early afternoon is spent building a kind of snow fort type structure. Vaughn, of course, ignores me when I suggest he should help me make it.

However, when I've finished building up the two snow walls, I do see his silhouette in the window for a moment, watching as I call the dog over.

I play with Moose, running around and hiding behind different things.

He ends up getting tired of me hiding on the other side of the walls when he comes around, though, because eventually, he decides to just jump over them.

And by over, I also mean partially through, effectively breaking down my snow fort.

After that, I start shooting the bow for a bit, working on my aim as I move farther and farther away from the target.

Later, Vaughn comes out to tell me that the food is ready, so once inside, I take the opportunity to ask him: "Will I ever shoot a gun?"

"I told you the day I met you, I wouldn't be giving you a gun."

I frown, "I thought you were just acting all...y'know...' grrr.'"

He tilts his head to the side, looking amused at my imitation of his intimidating essence. "Why would I lie?"

"To try and appear intimidating," I respond without missing a beat.

He doesn't even acknowledge that with a response, he merely turns around and goes back to the kitchen area.

Whatever. We both know that it's true.

"I'm going to the village tomorrow," I tell him after I thank him for the food he's handed me.

He looks up, "Why?"

"I need to," is all I say, not wanting to delve further into the topic for obvious reasons.

He nods, apparently understanding that I don't want to elaborate. "We'll leave at sunrise, then."

Oh, so he will be coming with me. I wasn't sure whether he would or not.

"You don't think we'll run into any wolves this time, will you?"

"I doubt we will," he replies.

Feeling relieved, I go to sit down on the cot and get my things together.

I will only be bringing one bag, and only the essentials, to ensure swifter movement and practicality.

I won't be bringing my annoying snow pants with, either.

Certainly not after last time.

Come morning, Vaughn tries to wake me up. But since it is still dark out, I refuse to budge.

I mean, you'd think I would have learned from the past two times that he's dumped snow on me. But since he hasn't done it since then, somewhere, in the back of my mind, I'm reasonably sure he won't right now.

But when I hear him leave and come back again, I sit up quickly before scrambling off the cot.

"I set the alarm!" I say, cringing, waiting for the snow to hit.

But it never does.

When I slowly open my eyes, all I see is Vaughn standing there, looking very amused.

He's not even wearing gloves.

"...You...you didn't go to grab any snow. Did you." I state in realization.

All he does is offer a small smile, shaking his head as he walks back outside.

He didn't even need to grab any. Just the thought of it got me up.

Was that his plan all along?

Knowing him, it most likely was.

After Vaughn has made sure that Moose will be okay for a couple of days, we begin our trek to the village. This time, however, I make sure to keep my eyes peeled and aware of everything. I continuously look very closely in every direction, and I'm confident that if something appeared right now, I would see it before Vaughn does.

Either way, however, I keep a tight grip on the bow that I decided to bring instead of the small hatchet. After all, which can do the most damage if there is ever a need to?

Vaughn and I don't walk in total silence as we did before. Instead, we both put forth a little effort into a conversation. But, it doesn't feel forced; it feels strangely natural.

We talk when we feel like talking. It's as simple as that.

Also, I have decided that I do not necessarily despise talking. At least when it comes to certain people, like Vaughn, for example. I mean, I have no idea why, but I don't think that he's terrible to talk to.

When we near the village, I begin to feel the familiar fear set in.

The more time that passes, the higher the chance that someone has seen or heard of me, and then I'll be brought in.

And then I'll probably never find out what happened to John.

Ignoring the consistent sound of snow crunching beneath our boots, and the random stranger's staring, we walk to the tavern.

I scan the lot for Roan's truck, frowning when I do, in fact, see it parked right in front of the log building.

Vaughn quickly notices that I'm not beside him, ceasing his walking, also as he looks back and forth between me and the building once.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head, "Nothing, really...it's just, Roan's in there."

He pauses, "How do you know?"

Pointing, I explain simply, "That's his truck right there."

Vaughn frowns slightly, "You remember what his truck looks like?"

"Um, yeah, I mean, I did ride in it here." I breathe in deeply. "What if he knows by now?"

"Then he knows."

"Of course you'd say that," I shake my head. "You literally want me gone. But I mean, I'd at least like to find out what happened to John before getting brought in."

With that, I opt to take my chances and a deep breath, moving toward's the tavern door.