Chapter Two
Jack woke the next morning to find his walk neatly shoveled again. He saw the woman's footprints leading up to his truck and cursed as he remembered that he had forgotten to give her back her coat. She had probably been freezing last night. He ran to the truck and found that the lock on the passenger's side had been picked. He opened the door and found the coat gone, but everything else in tact. So whatever the strange woman was, she was no theif.
Jack sighed and tugged the laces on his right boot a little tighter. He was wrapped up in almost uncomfortable warmth, and the tall boots weren't helping. At least he'd stay dry. He took a deep, stinging breath of the cold air and shook his head, amazed at the fact that the sky could be so clear. It was like the clouds had dumped the two feet of snow in a business-like, efficient manner then gone about their business, leaving the small town basking in a bright, sparkling sunshine that turned the soft snow to hard, glittering diamonds covering the wide fields and orchards.
Jack knew there would be good business in the coffee-shop today - there always when it was snowy - but he almost decided against going into town. It would be so nice just to curl up with 'A Tale of Two Cities' and a mug of hot cider...Jack shook those thoughts out of his head and climbed into his cold truck. He began his long descent from the driveway to the road, then from the road to the highway. The highway, though not plowed, was still almost clear of snow from all the cars that had already passed over it. For a small town, there was a lot of early-morning traffic.
Jack was just pulling onto the highway when he spotted a small structure down in the ditch. It looked rather like...it was an...igloo? He stopped the truck and went down, laughing as he saw the footprints from the snow-shoveling woman leading up to the door of the igloo. At the sound of his laugh, a disheveled brown head poked out from the door of the igloo and the woman smiled brightly at him.
"Ah, I see you have discovered me, my good snow provider. Now you see what I wanted it for."
The woman climbed all the way out and Jack blinked. This morning she was wearing stylish, nicely-cut black dress pants and a burgundy tank top tucked into it. Her arms were long and muscular and hung at her sides looking as if they'd rather be off doing some heavy lifting than just hanging uselessly.
"Aren't you freezing?" Jack asked before he could stop himself.
The woman laughed and shook her head. "No. It takes me a long time to get cold - I have some sort of internal heating mechanism that takes a long time to fail me."
She reached into her igloo and pulled out a small, stylish black leather jacket, pulling it on and buttoning it at her lean, muscled waist. "Satisfied?" she asked, smiling slightly.
"So...what's all this about?" asked Jack. "I mean, I hate to be nosy, but it is my snow, technically, that you're sleeping in, so I have a right to know if you're insane or just eccentric."
The woman laughed and held out one big, capable-looking hand. "I'm Sarah, Sarah Steiner. I guess I should start with that."
Jack nodded, clasping her hand in his, noticing that his hand was only slightly bigger than hers. "I'm Jack Summers. Pleased to meet you - I think."
She laughed again, a warm, pleasant sound so completely unlike Patricia's nervous giggle that Jack smiled just to hear it.
"I wanted to build an igloo because I'm a homeless and didn't have a place to stay for the night. I've built many an igloo in my day, and it's much more comfortable in practice than it looks in theory."
"But you should have said something last night! I would have been more than glad to offer you a room for the night, especially after you were so kind as to shovel my walk. Twice."
"Would you have," asked Sarah musingly. "Or are you just saying that? Because I have a feeling I didn't make a very good first impression on you."
"Well, that's true - but I wouldn't have let you sleep out in the cold," protested Jack. "Wait...did you say you were homeless?"
Sarah grinned and nodded. "I am, though I know I don't look it."
"Well, no," said Jack, surveying her stylish clothing. "I always imagined homeless people as the ones with the ragged, too-large clothing, hollow cheeks and grocery carts full of junk."
"Well, I'm not your average homeless person," said Sarah, grinning more. Her smile was large and white and infectious, especially when two dimples appeared in her pink, glowing cheeks.
Jack grinned back at her, unable to help himself. Who could? Her eyes glowed with geniuine warmth and friendliness, and she was so open that Jack felt connected to her at once. "No, I'd guessed that from the igloo," he said, looking over the icy structure.
"Had a bloody clever dad who spent too much time in the forest," she said.
"Figures," said Jack, remembering how his own father never got away from the office. He looked up to find her brown eyes surveying him curiously. "Are you planning to go into town?" he asked quickly. He didn't want to have to explain his bitter thoughts to this strange bum lady. "If so, I can give you a ride and save you a long walk."
"That's jolly good of you," she said. Jack noticed that her accent was getting more and more pronounced the longer she spoke with him. "Just wait a tic while I gather my affects." Yep, blatantly English accent now. Strange.
Sarah turned and ducked lithely back into her igloo. He heard her rustling and muttering to herself, then a large green army bag emerged, got stuck and was pushed through the small opening. At first he thought it was mostly clothes, but when he lifted it out of the way, he realized that it couldn't be just clothes - it was much too heavy. It felt like it was full of books.
Sarah's head emerged from the hole next. She had stuck her knitted hat on again over her still-tangled, thick brown hair, apparently figuring that a hat was all the hairdo she needed. She winked at Jack before squaring her shoulders and bracing herself. Pushing herself through the doorway, she collapsed it behind herself, leaving the entire structure except the entranceway intact. Then she packed the snow together, leaving a seamless bubble of rock-hard snow.
"Good a lock as any, I say," said Sarah, straightening and brushing snow off her clothes. She grabbed the big army bag and slung it over her shoulders. When she stood on the road next to Jack, he noticed that he had been right before. Sarah was only three or four inches shorter than him. "Thanks for the offer the of the ride."
Jack opened the door for her and she slung the bag carelessly into the backseat of the truck, then climbed in with one smooth, graceful movement. Jack shut the door for her, then went around to the driver's side and hopped up himself. Starting up the truck, he tried to think of a topic of conversation as he started down the highway towards town. He needn't have worried.
"So, do you have a good library in town?" asked Sarah immediately as they winded their way down the long highway.
"We have a library - I don't know how good it is," answered Jack. He laughed a little, thinking what Dan's face would look like at that answer. "I'm close friends with the librarian, though."
"Are you? Is she nice?" asked Sarah.
"Well, I certainly think he's nice," said Jack, laughing more. "But I guess it depends on whether or not you've read any Charles Dickens."
"He?" asked Sarah. "Funny, usually in small towns the librarians are old maids with bad tempers who don't like newcomers."
"Not this one," said Jack. He couldn't hold back his laughter now, and couldn't stop until he noticed level brown eyes staring at him.
"I take it there's something about the librarian that makes all of this humorous?" asked Sarah.
"Er...yes. Sorry. I'll introduce you to him, if you want. His name's Dan Weatherfield."
"Thank you, that would be excellent. I guess it's another of my eccentricities, but my favorite place to go when I first enter town is the library."
"You travel a lot, then?" asked Jack curiously. They were entering the outskirts of town, now, and beginning to pass more stores and houses. Sarah began surveying them curiously.
"Yes, I travel constantly. Although how long I stay in one place just depends on where I am in The Cycle."
Jack could swear he heard her capitalize 'The Cycle,' whatever that was. "Are you from England originally?" he asked, turning up the street that led to his shop.
"No, but I recently spent three years traveling 'round there, so I picked up the accent. It tends to come out more strongly when I'm nervous, but I'll get over it in a bit. Since I travel so much, my accent changes easily."
Jack remembered that morning when he had found her igloo, she had started using a strong accent. Did that mean she had been nervous? Why? Jack wanted to think it was because he was such an amazingly handsome and intelligent and nice person that she had fallen in love with him immediately, but thought it more likely that she was hiding something and was afraid he'd find out about it.
Jack glanced out the window and cursed inwardly as he said Patricia standing outside his coffee-shop, staring at the 'closed' sign in disbelief. Jack ducked his head away a little before realizing that the effort was futile because she knew what his truck looked like. He needn't have worried, though, because Patricia threw her arms up, put her hands over her face and ran through the snow bawling, feet lifting high up, trying not to get snow in her stillettos.
Sarah raised one eyebrow as she watched Patricia's dramatic retreat. "Jack's Java? I take it that's your place? Did that little drama with the blond have anything to do with you?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid so," said Jack, sighing tiredly as he pulled into his regular parking space. "She wanted to go on a date with me and get into some kind of relationship, but she's just not my kind of girl. She was probably here because of her mother."
"Her mother?" Sarah prodded gently. She reached back to grab her bag and heaved it over the top of the seat, then waited for Jack to explain.
"Yeah. Her mom would say that rejection is just a guy's way of telling her he wanted to get married, and that she should rush down to me in the morning to tell me she forgave me and she'd always be faithful if I changed my mind."
Sarah laughed, all sympathy gone from her eyes. "I know what that's like...seen it before. Those mothers do more harm than good, that's what I say."
She turned to the door and opened it, hopping out and landing lightly in the middle of a snowdrift. She slammed the car door and hop-skipped out of the drift and onto the sidewalk, stomping her feet in a graceful dance to get the snow off.
Jack followed her out and stood uncertainly in front of her. She took away his discomfort by asking brightly, "So if this is your place, any chance I could grab breakfast?"
"Yeah, sure," said Jack. He pulled out his keys, unlocked the place and held the door for her.
"Thanks," she said and looked around. "Hey, this is excellent! I love the black-and-white tile on the floor."
"My mom helped me decorate it before she...left," said Jack. He went around and started warming up the stove. "So what shall it be? Coffee and a pastry? Something more substantial?"
"Well, how about some cheese, an apple, toast and a cup of coffee."
"I can do that," said Jack. He started steaming the coffee and dug around in his refrigerator for the cheese. He glanced up as the door swung open, and grinned as the huge form of his friend filled the doorway. The seven-foot-tall librarian had to duck to get through, and he walked up to the counter.
"Morning, Jack," he said, smiling. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Good morning. I'm making breakfast for this lady, Sarah Steiner over here," said Jack, gesturing towards the corner. Sarah had pulled a book from her army bag and was reading intently.
Dan's eyes immediately sharpened. "Any chance I could be introduced?"
"You're such a sucker for a girl with a book," said Jack, laughing. He put the cheese and sliced apple on a place, then pulled the toast from the toaster and began to butter it. He carried the plate and the coffee over to Sarah's table, and the looming presence of his friend followed him closely.
"Excuse me, Sarah?" Jack put the plate and coffee on the table. Sarah blinked and closed her book before he could see the title. She looked up...and up some more...and up even more.
"Sarah, this is my friend Dan. Dan, Sarah Steiner. I gave Sarah a ride into town because she shoveled my walks last night," explained Jack.
Sarah stood and reached up to exchange a very firm handshake with Dan. "It's a long story," she said. Staring up at him for a moment, recognition suddenly dawned in her eyes and she grinned one of her irreverant, infectious and wicked grins. "You're the librarian!"
Her eyes sparkled with amusement at Jack before she looked back up into Dan's delighted features. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Sarah. I take it you're a book lover as well?"
"Well, yes," said Sarah. She looked about to say something else, then apparently decided against it.
Dan didn't press her, but sat down across from her. "You must come visit my library. I've got excellent selections for every kind of reader there."
"Good, because I'm interested in everything," said Sarah enthusiastically. She tucked the book she'd been reading back into her bag, careful not to show the title even to Dan.
"When you're finished with breakfast I can walk you over there if you like," said Dan. "I was going to close it today, but since there's a special, book-loving guest in town, I guess I'll have to reopen!"
"Oh, don't open on my account," Sarah protested, eyes already lighting up at the idea. "A whole library all to myself!" She grinned and bit into an apple slice. "I can't wait."
Dan sat back and watched her eat with a satisfied gaze. "Jack, she's a keeper."
Jack winced at the implications of the words, and ignoring the meaningful gaze of his friend, went over to fix himself a cup of coffee.
Sarah must have been hungry because she finished breakfast only five minutes after Jack had served it. She chatted with Dan while she finished her coffee, then they must have arrived at some decision, for she stood and drew on her stylish leather jacket. Dan reached over and picked up her bag for her, slinging it over his shoulder as if it was no more than a feather. Jack expected Sarah to protest at Dan's carrying her bag, but she seemed happy with it. Jack was puzzled. Sarah had seemed to be a strong woman of character, who did things her own way. He had assumed she was a feminist because of that strength, and feminists were prickly about things like men opening doors for women and carrying things for them.
"Hey, Jack, I'm taking Sarah down to the library now. I know you'll be busy, but feel free to drop by on lunch break or something," said Dan.
Jack nodded. "I'll try not to think of you two lost in a heavenly mountain of books while I slave my poor little ass off working for a living."
Sarah was about to laugh, but as soon as Jack said 'ass,' her face stiffened. Jack glanced at her and knew she was about to protest.
"Er...sorry," he muttered, turning back to his coffee machine.
"I forgive you," said Sarah graciously. She nodded to Dan and the two headed out the door.
