Black Hills

refuge.”
    She headed back, chuckling. She saw others moving toward their trucks or cars as friends and neighbors came to stand in their places. Voices carried, so she heard jokes, sleepy laughs, calls of good night.
    She quickened her pace when she spotted her parents. “You said you were going to use the cabin and get some sleep,” she said to her mother.
    “I said that so you’d stop nagging me. Now I’m going home to get some sleep. You do the same.” She gave Lil a pat on the cheek with a gloved hand. “I know this is a bad reason, but it’s good to see people come out to help this way. Take me home, Joe. I’m tired.”
    “You get some sleep.” Joe tapped a finger on Lil’s nose. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
    No doubt about that, Lil thought as they separated. They’d keep close tabs on her until this was resolved. It’s the way they worked. And if the situation were reversed, it would be the way she’d work.
    Inside, she stowed her rifle, then peeled off her outdoor gear. She glanced at the steps, thought about bed. Too restless, she decided. Too much coffee in the bloodstream.
    She set a fire in the hearth, got it going. If Coop didn’t want one, he could bank it down. But at least it added more warmth and cheer to his temporary sleeping arrangements.
    She wandered back to the kitchen, thought about making some tea. And decided she was too impatient to wait for the water to boil. Instead she poured half a glass of wine, hoping it would counteract the caffeine.
    She could work, she considered. She could spend an hour at the computer until the edge wore off. But the idea of sitting still didn’t appeal either.
    Then she heard the front door open and knew she’d been waiting for that. For him.
    When she came back into the living room he was sitting down, pulling off his boots. He looked, she thought, alert, awake, his eyes clear as they met hers.
    “I figured you’d be upstairs by now.”
    “Too much coffee.”
    He made a vague sound of agreement, and took off the second boot.
    “Maybe I’m feeling as restless as the animals. I’m not used to having people around this time of night either. I can’t settle.” She walked to the window, stared out.
    “I’d suggest a couple hands of gin rummy, but I’m not in the mood.”
    She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “And I’m in your way. I could try solitaire.”
    “You could also try turning off the lights and closing your eyes.”
    “That would be the sensible thing.” She swallowed the last of the wine, set the glass aside. “I’ll go up, let you get some sleep.” She started toward the stairs, stopped, turned back. He hadn’t moved. “What if I want sex on the table?”
    “You want to have sex on the table?”
    “You said sex was off the table. Maybe I want it back on. Maybe I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. You’re here; I’m here. We’re friends. That’s established, right? We’re friends.”
    “We always were.”
    “So that’s all it is. Friends, and not being alone. Giving each other something to take the edge off.”
    “Reasonable. Maybe I’m too tired.”
    Her lips curved. “Like hell.”
    “Maybe I’m not.”
    But he stayed where he was, watching her. Waiting.
    “You said you wouldn’t touch me. I’m asking you to set that rule or provision, or however you think of it, aside. Come up with me, come to bed with me, stay with me. I need to shut my mind off, Coop, that’s the God’s truth. I need some peace of mind. A few hours of it. Do me a favor.”
    He stepped to her. “Doing you a favor’s standing out in the cold until two in the morning. Taking you to bed?” He reached up, ran his hand down her braid. “Doesn’t qualify. Don’t tell me you need peace of mind, Lil. Tell me you want me.”
    “I do. I do want you. I’ll probably regret it tomorrow.”
    “Yeah, but it’ll be too late.” He pulled her in, captured her mouth with his. “It’s already too late.”
    He turned toward the steps, then gripped her hips, boosting her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.
    Maybe it had always been too late, she thought as he carted her upstairs, and she let her lips roam his face as she had once, long before. Back in time, the familiar. Like closing a circle, she told herself. It didn’t have to be any more than that.
    She pressed her cheek to his, sighed. “Feel better already.”
    At the bedroom he turned, pressing her back to the door. And those eyes,