Page 2 of Bitter Heat
Mounting the four stairs up to the wooden porch, he dropped one of his bags long enough to press the ringer beside the blue front door. A trill came from deep in the house, like a fast-repeating hammer on a brass bell. While he waited, he sat the other bag down to brush his hands over his wavy, stylishly overlong, brown hair. It wasn’t quite chin-length, but it was far from the tightly shorn buzz he’d worn during the worst of the illnesses he’d endured the last several winters.
Then he double-checked his clothing. His tailored, brown traveling suit was a bit dusty and wrinkled from the road and didn’t quite fit him as well as it had before his last bout of pneumonia. He slapped at the dirt near the bottom of his trousers and jerked at the hem of his suit coat, trying to get it to lay a bit nicer.
He supposed the owner of the boarding house would accept him whether he looked a mess or not, especially since he was likely paying enough to keep the place in coal and electricity through the winter on his rent alone. Still, it didn’t hurt to show some respect. He’d come to that understanding a bit late in life, but he’d learned it well.
He wondered what was keeping the innkeeper from answering. The beta who owned the place had been eager enough in their correspondence. So, surely, Janus was expected.
A rustle came from around the corner of the house along with a deep creak of the porch floorboards. And then another.
Janus stepped away from the front door, plastering a friendly smile on his face. “Hello?” he called toward the obscuring corner. “Anyone home?”
The rustle came again, along with a screech—the sound of wood rubbing on wood as though someone dragged a chair from one location to another. Janus wiped his still-sweaty hands on his pantlegs. He frowned and squinted back toward the driveway, long empty since the waggoneer had driven away. He searched the grounds for signs of the owner with the falling sun blinding his eyes. He turned to the door again, standing on tiptoe to try to get a look through the glass panes at the top. The shadowed hallway showed no one coming to greet him.
Finally, after ringing the bell once more to no avail, Janus left his bags by the doorway to investigate the noises that had come from the side of the house. Perhaps the owner was outside doing some necessary labor—in the garden, for example—and hadn’t heard the bell ring or his call of greeting. Betas were known for being hard workers, and the man probably hadn’t wanted to sit around waiting for Janus’s arrival.
Peeking his head around the corner, he caught a glimpse of a plain, wooden rocking chair, and a figure ensconced in it. The man had a cozy-looking, gray blanket over him, and his long, dark, wavy hair flew in the breeze, dancing in loose, snaky tendrils. The swirling wind drifted up from the next interesting sight to catch Janus’s eye—a spotless sparkle of the wide, green-blue lake. Hud’s Basin was known for its soul-repairing loveliness and had been touted as one of the more appealing features of this particular boarding house. Though, being the only boarding house in the area, Janus couldn’t claim that had been the true deciding factor.
Still, it was a beautiful lake. Hud’s Basin stretched away between the evergreen trees, separated from the house by a patch of thick woods. His mouth watered just looking at the brilliant, enticing circle of water, and Janus could just imagine the pleasure of diving into it on a hot summer’s day. Dusty and sweaty from travel, the thought appealed to him even now.
A scent like summer-ripe berries drifted to Janus on the breeze, along with a shocking, raw musk. That was an omega in the rocking chair, then. His pheromones were strong and seemed to shimmer in the air between them. A shiver shot up Janus’s spine, and he leaned into the scent, inhaling again. A sudden hooking sensation hit him in his gut, and an arousing tingle began throughout his body as though every cell was responding to this man. It was nearly strong enough to make him groan. The chair rocked again, and the creak of wood-on-wood sounded plaintive.
Janus cleared his throat to form a greeting but was interrupted before he could.
“Can I help you?” The sharp voice came from behind him, and Janus jerked around again. His heart was beating extraordinarily fast, as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. His tongue felt frozen, and he blinked in confusion.
The formerly unforthcoming front door was now open wide, and a gray-haired beta who could only be the boarding house’s owner stood at the threshold.
“Ah, hello!” Janus said, gathering his wits with a wide smile. He turned his back on the mysterious figure in the rocking chair, and hastily stepped toward the front entrance. The kind-looking man before him wore common brown pants, and a clean, if plain, white button-up shirt. He held a broom in one hand and wore a flour-dusted, brown apron.
Putting out his hand, Janus began the introductions, “I’m Janus Heelies and—”
“And you’ll be staying with us a spell,” the beta interrupted with a wide grin, gray eyes crinkling at the sides. He put the broom aside and held the front door open a bit wider. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you.
He smiled at Janus, ushering him forward. “Well, let’s grab your things. I’ll get you up to the room we’ve readied. I’m sure you’re tired.”
As they entered the house together, Janus assessed the physical state of his host. The beta had gray hair, yes, but he wasn’t elderly so much as solidly middle-aged. He was thin, pale, and didn’t appear in the best health, but didn’t seem actively ill either. He had a bustling energy about him that spoke to a kind of determined personality that Janus admired in any man, but particularly in betas. If he was a little pale, and a bit worn around the edges, then so be it.
Given the recent bout of pneumonia Janus was recovering from, he didn’t have any room to be particularly proud of his own health or looks. His appearance had taken quite the beating with each successive winter of sickness, and he was only just gaining weight back. He hoped that Hud’s Basin’s distance from the cesspool of germs in the city would give him some reprieve from being infected again with the worst of the wintertime maladies.
Regardless, he was hardly the outrageously handsome young man he’d once been. He’d flashed his hazel eyes and charming smile at plenty of omegas over the years—and some betas, too—and ended up in some terribly scandalous situations. But after the toll of his sicknesses, he’d scarcely be able to attract a scandalous affair, even if he still wanted to partake in any.
“I take it you’re the proprietor?” Janus asked, clutching his bags as the man removed his floury apron and hung it on a rack by the door.
“Yes, indeed. Apologies.” The beta wiped his hands off on the front of his soft, brown pants, and then put out a hand. “Zeke Monkburn. Welcome to Monk’s House at Hud’s Basin. We’re glad to have you.”
Zeke took one of Janus’s bags off his hands, and the two of them muscled past the furniture crowding the downstairs entryway—a sideboard, the coatrack, three chairs, and a full bookshelf—and past a living room on the right. They passed three closed-off boarding rooms on the left and then headed up the dark, wooden stairs to the second story.
“I’ll give you the house tour whenever you’d like,” Zeke said with a smile over his shoulder. “But the kitchen is easy to suss out, and the livin’ room, too. Feel free to use both at your discretion. What brings you up to Hud’s Basin?”
Janus shifted his bag from one arm to the other, feeling annoyingly out of breath after only a few of the oddly steep steps. He wished Zeke would move faster so that he didn’t have to keep carrying the luggage. His arm muscles already ached. “Dr. Crescent mainly. I’ll be studying under him.”
“Ah. I’d wondered why you’d taken on a place boarding here for such a long spell. Most of our patrons come up for a season at most.” As he reached the top of the stairs, Zeke looked over his shoulder, down to Janus still trudging up. “You plan to be a doctor?”
“A nurse for now.” Janus smiled, hefting his bag a bit higher. “I’ve had some health scares in recent years, and they’ve taught me the value of good medical care. I’d like to share that forward.” And he hoped to make something good of his life now that it’d been saved again. Too many had died in the recent flu epidemics. He owed it to those who’d lost their lives not to waste his in gambling, fighting, and pushing the boundaries by sleeping with contracted omegas. Or so Caleb had insisted when they’d last talked. And Janus had reluctantly believed him because he was too tired to believe anything else. “I’m looking forward to working with Dr. Crescent and learning all he has to teach me, but I’m also eager for a chance to live a slower life up here in the mountains.”
“Slower, eh? Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. Still in need of some recuperating?” Zeke asked as Janus met him on the second-floor landing.
Together, they started down the hall. The wooden planks looked freshly swept and polished, gleaming in the light from the window at the end of the hall.
