Once Upon A Time

Once Upon A Time - Chp 20

The third cottage was surprising roomy, much more so that the one let by Morgan. The living room, kitchen, and bath were all on the ground floor with the only bedroom above in the loft. No words passed between John and Margaret as to who would take the bed. They had both looked to the large fireplace dominating one wall upon entering, with John quickly moving forward to start a fire. With luck, a large supply of firewood was already inside, safe from the harsh downpour.

"I'll start a fire and you can warm up the food?"

John regulated the duties between them, but Margaret had no complaints.

"All right. It shouldn't take long."

The simple supper was an added bonus, given easily by the farmer's wife when John mentioned they brought nothing with them. At least they would have food and a warm, dry place to sleep tonight. Hearing Margaret rattle some pots in the small kitchen, John felt a sense of normalcy come over him while he tended to the fire. He waited until the kindling was lit, adding several more to the small flames, waiting until it looked healthy before adding a long, thick log.

For a long moment he sat on a small stool, keeping watch, letting his long legs stretch out in front while listening to the sounds around him. The wind was still howling; its cries almost musical, as though someone were tuning an instrument poorly. The rains fell like thousands of tiny rock pellets, striking with precision across the roof and against the windows. In the center of all was Margaret, working undisturbed in the kitchen.

John couldn't hear the woman at all. It was only the occasional sound of a metal spoon hitting the sides of a pan, or the cover being placed over a rattling pot that floated towards him. When he heard two glasses being clinked together, the high-pitched tinkle rising above the rain, John found himself smiling. Margaret must be setting the table by now. It meant of course their dinner was almost ready. For him it was much more than that. It was a chance to be physically near Margaret without fearing any outside forces would pull them apart.

She had been jumpy when he first returned from the farmhouse after seeing to the cottage. Morgan had looked questioningly at the two of them, wondering at seeing the clear open tension running there. Though Margaret left to join him eagerly, she was also stiff and appeared undeniably worried.

It wasn't the first time they would be alone, but the circumstances were different. Other worldly forces were at work there, taking any genuine control away from them. John was worried too, for there was nothing he could actually do to prepare should circumstances change again. All he could do was be more aware. At present they were safe and he could ensure nothing would happen that night. He finally had his guard up.

He stared a long moment into the fire, not realizing Margaret has joined him in the room until her shadow cast a reflection on the area rug before the fireplace. Looking to his side, Margaret stood just a foot feet away, her hands extended towards the roaring flames. She tried warming them before rubbing at her arms again, forcing away the chill that lingered.

Their eyes met and for a moment their gazes stayed locked at each other until the loud crackling of burning wood shattered the moment.

"Dinner's almost ready... couple of minutes more," she told him.

Her manner turned shy and reserved, making John pause at the change in behavior.

"Can't wait. We missed lunch so I'm really hungry."

"I guess I am too."

Continually rubbing at her arms, Margaret could not get the chill to leave her. Her thin blouse was a poor protector against the elements at the moment. She spied a woolen throw over one oversized armchair, but nixed the idea of using it.