Page 107 of The Unlikely Pair
Our conversation has left me unsettled. I don’t want to dwell on the impossibility of Harry ever being openly gay.
The rabbit skin Harry was carefully sewing for me catches my eye as I leave the cabin.
As I make my way to the wood-chopping block, I can’t get the thought of Harry making a fur lining for my boots out of my mind.
It’s part of a pattern I’ve started to notice. Like how Harry always puts a little more food on my plate, even if it means a smaller portion for him. Or how he’ll throw an extra log on the fire if he notices me shivering, even if he doesn’t appear cold himself.
He does all these small things for me without expecting anything in return.
But I really want to do something for him now.
My gaze falls to the sauna. We haven’t used it because we’ve been focused on stockpiling wood for winter.
But we now have enough wood to make a beaver consider early retirement, so I think we can spare some. Especially if I’m productive in the next few hours.
Imagining Harry’s face when he sees the sauna keeps me chopping wood furiously, even as my arms begin to ache.
As I chop, the weather begins to turn.
I wipe the first splatter of rain off my face. Rain is no longer a threat to us now that we have proper coats and a cabin to retreat to, knowing we can dry our clothes in front of the fire.
But it means Harry will potentially cut his walk short, so it’s definitely time to set up the sauna.
I grab an armful of wood and kindling and hustle inside the sauna. I arrange the logs inside the firebox like I’m trying to win a game of Tetris, then I strike a match. The flames leap to life, eagerly devouring the dry wood.
I scoot outside to fill up the water bucket from the lake.
When I get back inside, I spot a small vial of pine essential oil on a shelf, and I can’t resist adding a few drops to the water bucket. The sharp, clean scent of pine fills the air. It’s like being wrapped in a hug from a friendly forest.
Not that the aroma of pine is a particular novelty to us at the moment, but I’ll take what I can get.
I head inside the cabin and grab two fresh, clean towels, which I place inside the sauna on one of the benches.
The sauna is already starting to heat up, but it feels like it is still missing something.
I head back outside to find the wind is whipping up now, the trees swaying and creaking like ancient dancers.
There’s no chance of finding flowers in late October, so instead, I quickly gather a few sprigs of lingonberries and juniper and arrange them artfully inside the sauna entrance.
As I step back out into the growing storm, Harry emerges from the forest, his coat pulled tight against the wind.
“What’s going on?” Harry’s gaze flicks past me to the smoke coming from the sauna chimney.
“Well, I figure we can’t have the Scandinavian wilderness experience without having a sauna, right?”
He blinks at me. “You set up the sauna?”
“Yeah. I mean, if it’s something you want to do. We don’t have to.” I feel weirdly, absurdly self-conscious as Harry’s gaze moves from the sauna back to me.
“The prospect of sharing a sauna with you is rather appealing,” he says.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get naked then.”
We head into the cabin, where we set a record for clothes removal. But I’m at the door when I notice Harry has stopped to rummage in one of the cupboards.
“What are you…?” I trail off when I see him straighten, clutching some Vaseline.
His cheeks flush. “I thought we should maybe be prepared for all eventualities,” he says. “And due to the lack of foresight from the makers of the survival kit, we have to improvise.”
