I don’t know how long I stood shivering in the night. Long enough for Emily Ann to finish following her nose around the circle allowed by her six foot leash, and to come and lean against the back of my legs. She was so tall that her head curved around my hip at waist height. Jack too gave up exploring the ground, and came to sit in front of me.
“So, pups, what do you think?”
Emily Ann yawned.
I inhaled, smelling damp leaves and wood smoke. “You’re right,” I told her. “It's time for bed. Let’s go.” We trooped through the yard, up the creaking steps and across the porch. I opened the door and stepped inside.
I didn’t see Bob at first. The light from the fire was dim, and he had left on a single lamp. Before I could panic over his disappearance a rather loud snore came from the bed. He was lying on top of the covers. His shoes were neatly lined up by the bedside table, and his shirt and jeans folded and placed on the floor. He was still wearing a tee shirt and boxers and socks.
I unleashed the dogs. Emily Ann climbed back onto her chosen chair. Jack went over and nuzzled Bob’s hand, which was hanging over the side of the bed. Bob didn’t move, and after a second nuzzle Jack walked to the fireplace and curled up in the glow from the fire.
I decided I should get Bob under the covers. It was warm enough now, but in October the room would grow cold before morning.
Moving him wasn’t easy. Kidnapping at gunpoint, a night with no sleep, and half a glass of good wine had done him in. I shoved him to one side to get the covers and sheet out from under him, then I arranged his legs under the linens. One arm kept falling off the edge of the bed and dangling. By the time I had him tucked in, I was wide awake and out of breath. I sat down on the love seat to finish my wine. Maybe I should sleep here, I thought, ignoring the fact that the love seat was several inches shorter than me and that either my head or my feet or both would hang off the ends. I remembered the mouse, and shook my head.
Yes, I was scared to climb into that high four poster bed with a man I hadn’t known very long.
But I was more scared of that damned mouse.
At last I rose to get ready for bed, carrying a canvas bag into the bathroom that Kay had packed with some necessities. I unzipped the bag and pulled a long silk night dress out of the bag. I'd never seen this garment before. The chandelier gleamed on its lace and tucks and yards and yards of almost-sheer fabric. Kay had raided her own dresser drawers instead of packing the old knee-length tee shirt I keep at her place to sleep in. “Kay, you wretch,” I muttered, letting the gossamer fabric slide through my hands.
Closing the door, I started to unbutton my jeans. Movement opposite made me stop. The entire room, including me and the chandelier, was reflected in the glass wall separating me from the darkness beyond. One of the voices in my head said chattily, “Gosh, that looks just like a one way mirror.”
Another one added, “Yeah, could be bleachers full of spectators. They’re going to love your strip show.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped back, “nothing is out there but empty woods. Nobody’s watching.”
I went over to the glass wall and tried to peer out. The reflections made it impossible. I turned back to the door, opened it a few inches, and turned off the chandelier. In a moment my eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the other room. The reflections were gone from the window. I went over and peered out again, seeing only a tangle of trees in the light of a frosty moon that had just cleared their tops. Nothing moved that I could see, so I stripped off the jeans and sweater I had put on hours or days ago. My bra joined the pile. Kay’s silly nightie slid over my head with a silken whisper.
This garment was so voluminous that anyone could have worn it. The length hit me a few inches above my ankles, though on Kay it would have been close to the floor. I felt more ready for a costume party than for bed. All I needed, I thought, was a pair of fluffy high heeled mules, a tiara and a lorgnette and I'd be ready for Mardi Gras—or to run a high class brothel.
Crossing the room yet again, I turned the light back on, blinking in the brightness. I fished a toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bag and did my teeth, brushing long enough to remove a layer of enamel along with any lingering plaque. I rinsed the brush and laid it by the sink. I opened the medicine cabinet to see what Ambrose kept in it. It was as bare as the one at Bob’s house. The men of my acquaintance seemed singularly healthy. As I closed the mirrored door I noticed some water spots on the glass. I got a wad of toilet paper and polished them away. My reflection in the mirror showed that my hair was in disarray. I found a hairbrush in the bag and started brushing. The bristles felt good against my scalp. I closed my eyes and kept brushing. After a while I realized I was counting strokes. Forty-two, forty-three…had I reverted to being a pioneer woman, giving my hair its hundred strokes before going to bed?
Ah. Yes. Going to bed.
I know that many women would climb into bed beside a man they hadn't known long without a second thought. I suspected that if I didn’t like Bob so much I wouldn’t be so diffident. That liking made the stakes too high. But the alternative of staying up all night was impossible, and the sofa was too short, and a pile of sofa cushions on the floor would render me too accessible to the mouse. It would have to be the bed.
The main room of the cabin was quiet. Bob had turned onto his side and was no longer snoring, but appeared just as soundly asleep. Jack had managed to get up onto the high bed and was a nearly perfect circle at Bob’s feet. Emily Ann blinked sleepily at me and thumped her tail on her chair when I crossed the room to caress her head and to turn off the lamp by the sofa.
I put another log onto the remains of the fire and heaped some coals around it. Little blue flames erupted. My feet had gotten cold in the bathroom, and I held my toes toward the warmth of the flames. Jack jumped down from the bed with a thump. He came and leaned against my leg and stared into the fire with me.
“Go to bed,” I finally muttered at myself. I must have said it out loud; both dogs looked up. “Sorry, guys,” I whispered, “go to sleep.”
Jack turned and hopped onto the love seat and curled up with his nose over his flank.
I crossed the room to the bed and turned back the covers on the side opposite the sleeping Bob. The steps for climbing onto the high mattress were on his side, but I figured I could scramble up without them.
If I hadn’t been wearing that silk nightie I might have made it, but the bed was too high. I stepped back to look at it. How utterly ridiculous that I couldn’t get a knee securely up there. I turned my back, put my hands on the mattress, and gave a hop, but I slithered back down. I turned back and grasped the covers to pull myself up but they shifted toward me, leaving Bob partially bare. I went around to get the steps. They weighed a ton. I could barely budge them. They appeared to be made of wood, but felt like they had been cast from cement. I tried pushing them, but they made a loud scraping noise on the wooden floor that had both dogs awake and alert. I stopped trying to move the steps to consider other options.
Maybe I could get Bob to roll over to the other side, I thought. A tentative nudge had no effect. I pushed. No reaction. Remembering how hard it had been to get him where he was in the first place, I wouldn’t have put good odds on my chances of moving him another two feet.
I could either climb over Bob or sleep on the love seat. I tried to remember if I'd seen more blankets in the closet, and could only picture sheets and towels. I would freeze. I was already cold. The wooden floorboards sucked body heat right out through the bottoms of my feet.