trouble to partition off some rooms and lay a floor. The old floors were tongue-in-groove, worn smooth as glass by the passage of time. The only openings that let in natural light were the big windows on either side of the front door. There were candles and oil lamps sitting about the rooms, but when Luce flipped on a switch, he was surprised to see that the place was also wired for electricity.
“Electricity?”
“Even an electric water heater, running water and a propane tank, although the place is mostly heated by the old fireplace.”
“This place is amazing,” he said.
“It is, isn’t it? Bridie lived here with her husband for over thirty years before he built her a new house a bit farther up,” Luce said, then tried to get past the awkwardness of having a total stranger in her place by smiling shyly. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can sleep.”
She led the way out of the main room to a short passage that led to a pair of doors. She opened the one on the left, switched on another light and then stepped aside.
Jonah stood for a few moments, feeling the confusion of her emotions, but he didn’t know what to say to make this any easier. Finally he moved past her and entered the room.
There was an old metal bed against one wall, an aging armoire a few feet from the bed and a small table near the headboard. A handmade, multi-colored rag rug was on the floor, and a small stack of books sat on a shelf above the table.
Luce shoved her hands in her pockets, then took them out and clasped them behind her instead, as she stepped just inside the doorway.
“No one ever sleeps here, so the sheets are clean, even if they’re not fresh. If you get cold in the night, there’s an extra quilt in the armoire. Take your time getting settled. I’m going to start supper.”
She had started to leave when Jonah reached for her, then stopped himself and spoke instead.
“Thank you for this.”
“I’ve been where you are…on the road, I mean. You helped me. I’m happy to return the favor. The bathroom is next door, if you want to clean up. There are a few extra towels and washcloths in your armoire. Make yourself at home.”
Jonah started to say something, then seemed to think better of it and nodded briefly as Luce left. What else was there to say?
He set his backpack on the floor near the armoire, dug out clean clothes, got a towel and washcloth, and headed for the bathroom.
The room was small, but the old claw-footed tub was long and deep. Just the thought of a good long soak had him hurrying to strip off his clothes. Within minutes, he was chest-deep in the tub, with his eyes closed, savoring the warmth and the clean scent of Luce Andahar’s soap.
He wondered about her, how she’d come to be in this place and alone in the world, then shifted his focus to the task at hand and began scrubbing himself clean.
Once he’d finished his bath, he used some of her shampoo. This was all such an unexpected luxury that he was reluctant to get out. But a warm meal was no farther away than the other side of the door, and it was a long time since he’d been invited to someone’s table. Hunger won out. Before he could talk himself into staying longer, he opened the drain and then stood up. He was reaching for a towel when Luce knocked on the door.
“Supper will be ready in about five minutes,” she called.
“I’ll be right there,” Jonah answered, and began drying off.
Luce repeated the alphabet on the way back to the stove. It was all she could think of to do to keep her mind off the fact that there was a naked stranger on the other side of her bathroom door.
As Jonah was dressing, he began smelling the aroma of the food she’d cooked. His belly growled, reminding him again of how long it had been since he’d eaten a real meal. He hung his wet towel and washcloth on pegs in the wall, then picked up his dirty clothes and dumped them in his room. He walked into the main room in his sock feet just as Luce
Learning to Kill: Stories