A Wedge

The dark furs and evergreens huddled together against the cold as the wind gently pushed them back and forth. The first faint glimmers of soft amber light were beginning to shoot through the cracks of the mountains and roll down the valley casting the whole one side of the forest in a glow that made everything look like it was being lit up by a giant flame.

"You'll die in there with them." James was looking past Sarah as he spoke. He was looking off to the small house in the distance. He was thinking of the old woman. The one with the bandages. The ones she wouldn't let anyone touch.

"You don't know that." Sarah was smiling at James with a calm forgiving patience. She always seemed to have an inner peace that starkly contrasted his own darker and brooding disposition.

"You could come with me. You know I'll keep you safe." Now James was looking up at Sarah. Looking her in the eye.

"I know you would. You're a good man. But I can't leave them."

"You mean, Daniel. You won't leave him."

Daniel had been the one that wanted to let the old woman and the boy in the house when they first showed up. James had disagreed. One look at the old woman and he knew that she would be dead soon and when the time came she would take them all with her. They had argued and said things and there had been a fight. James had not come out the victor in any sense of the word.

Sarah just looked down at the ground meekly, her hands together.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. If that's where you want to be, if he's what you want, then I won't stop you." James looked up and away and nodded as he forced himself to accept what he was saying.

"Any chance I can stop you? You know you don't have to go. You could stay here. Help keep us safe." She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Help keep me safe."

This was true. He could stay with them. He could stay and live with them and their dirty looks that he would get from sideways glances because he and everyone in the house would always remember that night and the things that had been said. James had spoken the truth the way he always did but he had driven a wedge that was too deep to remove. He had burnt that bridge. The way he always did.

He sank in to her grip even as he cringed from it. "That's not fair. You can't ask me to do that. You can't ask me to stay here, not with him. Not after everything that's happened. Besides, you don't need me here. "

"You said I'd die here with them."

James shook his head as he pulled his hand away from Sarah's. Cold rationality had returned to him. "We're all going die. It's just a matter of when and how...and with who."

"So you'd rather die out there alone?"

"I'd rather die out here trying than die in there waiting. I'd rather you died with me, not him. He doesn't deserve you or your love and you know that. You wasted your whole life on assholes like him, now you'll waste your death on him too." His words were followed by cold silence. Even James thought he'd sounded a bit harsh, but that's just the way it was. Harsh realities were realities just the same and James had never been one to mince words.

"That's not fair. He's a good man. Just not like you." Now it was Sarah's turn to deliver harsh realities and she did so with a cold firmness. "You know I love you, but I love him too. I can't go with you. We can't be together."

James was more than a little let down. "Why not?"

"You know why. We've already talked about this." She smiled warmly at him as she again displayed her virtuous patience.

A cold sharp wind blew in from the east and he turned his head to shield his face from the sting.

She gently touched his cheek and turned his face to hers. With those amber eyes staring deep into his she said with a warm smile, "I'll always be with you." She turned away and left him in the cold.

Snow gently began to fall as he watched her figure move farther away. He watched her open the door and held his breath for a moment as she stood there, her figure silhouetted in the door frame. A moment. A moment he tried to hold on to like the last glimmers of hope. She shut the door and with her the light and warmth and everything good retreated back to take shelter from the cold.