Short Stories

Between Dusk and Dawn

     A rap on the door of his cabin threw him from his sleep. He bolted upright in bed, torn from a dream. Ryland was stuck reordering himself, thrown back into his body and forced to face reality. He was rubbing sleep from his eyes when a knock sounded again.

     Climbing from bed and grumbling the entire way, Ryland was too sleep deprived to wonder why a person would be knocking on his cabin door in the middle of the night. Especially since he lived deep in a wood with the closest town being a full day's journey away. After the war, many small towns and villages had been obliterated by the incoming armies. He had chosen to seclude himself in this corner of the world because it had been left untainted, the surrounding villages too small to warrant any attention.

     He had enough sense to grab a dagger from the dresser before opening the door, hiding it behind his back. He flung the door open, cold air blowing past him, prepared to give the visitor and earful.

     "What in heavens name--" He cut himself off. Standing before him was a woman. She wore a massive hood that hid her face and form. It was mud-splattered and worn from travel. The sliver of dress visible was rumpled and torn in several places. Her leather boots were cracking, the soles stitched back in place. She stood out in the snow, her tracks showing that she had trudged through the wood. "Who are you?" He demanded.

     The woman flung back her hood, and Ryland took a step back. He remembered everything about her. The thick chocolate curls, the slightly up tilted green eyes, the smattering of freckles across her nose. He noted the hollowness in her cheeks, the lack of color. It surprised him so much that it took a moment to register that she was pregnant. Her left hand rested on her swollen belly, made all the more visible due to her tiny frame. The ring on her finger glinted against the dark dress. The only bit of finery on her.

     "Aaryn," he breathed, staring wide-eyed at her. "I told you to stay away."

     She bit her lip nervously. "Well, here I am." She tried to sound bold, but Ryland heard the tremor in her voice.

     "Why?" He asked, a bit harshly. She flinched slightly and something inside him was angry at himself for barking at her.

     "Because I have nowhere else to go," she said simply. Ryland frowned. A gust of wind blew, lift snow from the mounds on the forest floor. Aaryn shivered where she stood.

     "Come inside," he said after a minute, stepping aside so she could enter. Aaryn hurried inside. He closed the door with a soft click, locking it. "Would you like some tea?" He offered. She nodded eagerly. Ryland filled a kettle then set it in the hearth, stirring the embers and adding wood. He was glad for the physical tasks as they gave him time to reign back his emotions.

     "This is a beautiful place," she said, standing in the middle of the room.

     "I found it on a hunting trip. It had been in shambles when I first came. Likely a forgotten hunting cabin. I fixed it up some." The cabin was small, only one room. It had a meager kitchen that was only a few cabinets and a wood stove. He had spread a rug before the massive fire place, a worn couch and arm chairs surrounding it. Off to the side was a table that could seat four, the once-smooth wood flecked and marred with countless knives. The cabin had a single, large window along the back wall, its panes coated in frost. Tucked in the corner was his large bed, the sheets all strewn about. Opposite the bed was a tall bookshelf. Its shelves were full of various books and knick-knacks, all from different parts of the world. Aaryn strode to it, studying the little trinkets.

     Ryland didn't notice he had been staring until the scream of the kettle made him jump. He quickly removed it from the hearth, pouring the water into a dented tin mug and adding a tea bag. He handed her the cup, which she accepted with a smile of thanks.