6
Hunter
Over the next several days, Sophia drifts around the house like a ghost, and I have about as much success interacting with her as I might a departed spirit. I try to talk to her over meals and such, but I’ve never been any good at small talk with women, and she’s proving to be no exception. There are lots of awkward pauses, during which she fidgets and clears her throat and looks for more questions to ask me. I swear we’ve talked about the origin of every item in my house right down to the cast iron pots, but we’re not connecting.
And why should we?
We’re total strangers.
Sophia is beautiful—and she traveled overseas to marry someone she doesn’t even know, who can’t even talk to her. Several times I’ve almost asked her if she wants to go home, but I’ve stopped short.
I don’t want her to go home. I kinda like having her here.
I don’t expect her to marry me, but I don’t want to suggest she return either.
After lunch, we go our separate ways. Time passes, and soon it’s late in the afternoon. I’m working at my computer when I look out the window and see Sophia below throwing a stick for Cocoa. It’s more of a branch, but Cocoa leaps into the air, catching it in her mouth. The forked ends scrape on the ground as she bounds proudly back to Sophia.
I smile. I miss having Cocoa here with me while I work, but she mostly seems to prefer to follow Sophia around. It’s better for her because she needs the exercise, and it’s probably better for Sophia as well. She must be lonely here, but she hasn’t complained.
Sophia throws the stick again, and Cocoa goes enthusiastically after it. I find myself envying them. And so, even though I still have a lot of work to do, I get up, change into some jeans and my work boots, and go out to join them.
Cocoa stumbles over her branch and drops it to race circles around me, and Sophia looks up at me in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” she says in her thick Irish accent that I’ve grown to love each day she’s been here. “I just thought it’d do us some good to get out of the house, and—”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Looked like fun, so I thought I’d join you.”
She looks taken aback at first, and I wonder if she’d rather be alone. But then her expression softens. “That’d be nice. I’d like that. We’d like that,” she says with a sweet smile.
I gesture toward the trees. “I promised you a walk in the woods, didn’t I? Are you up for it?”
She looks down at her shoes—they’re boots, but the kind people wear for fashion, without a good grip.
“It’ll be fine. We’re not going to climb the mountain or anything.” I let out a chuckle.
She smiles and offers me her hand, and I gladly accept it. Her hand is smooth and warm in mine, and I like the way it feels.
“Come on,” I say to Cocoa, and she charges through the brush, barking frantically.
“Does she ever run off?” Sophia asks.
“Nah,” I say. “She likes to stay where she can see me, but even if she gets carried away, she never goes out of shouting distance.”
“It’s nice that you don’t have to keep her on a leash.”
I give her a nod and continue forward. It’s one of the things I love most about living up here, Cocoa has free reign.
There’s no trail out here besides Cocoa’s favorite paths, and I lead Sophia along one of those. She tightens her hold of my hand, even though we have to walk single file past some thick underbrush, but I don’t let go either. It’s the first time we’ve touched each other, and it shoots electricity through my body.
“I saw some deer this morning. I counted twelve of them, starting on the north side of the house. I watched them until they were all gone as I was washing dishes after breakfast,” she says. I glance over my shoulder and see she’s smiling excitedly.
“No deer where you come from, I take it?”
“Not in the city. So what other kinds of animals do you see here?” she asks.
r />
Cocoa doubles back toward us, a pine cone in her mouth. “Besides this Queen of the forest, of course.”