Jason shrugged and looked a little chagrined.
"I just wanted to make sure you knew," he called back. "Sometime you just seem so ...." he trailed off.
"So what?" asked Kyara, her eyes trying to read his. Jason shook his head.
"Not here," he projected. "This isn't really the place for it." Then he stopped, cocking his head to the side the way he did when he was considering something.
"Do you think we might step outside for a bit?" he asked.
Kyara glanced back at the pass from the kitchen. Large, covered bins of food were just beginning to emerge, steaming and prepared for the buffet she'd prepared for the trail party. She nodded, quickly, then followed him as he snaked through the crowd.
They stepped outside, the November air hitting her like a blow to the face. She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly missing the heat of the kitchen.
"Talk fast, Hardison. It's too cold out here for us Southern girls."
Jason didn't look like he was doing much better, stamping his feet as the wind cut right through his clothes.
"I, ah, alright. I just wanted to make sure you're, you know, happy."
"I was happier when I was warm," said Kyara pointedly.
"No, that's not what I... I mean you just seem lonely, sometimes. Or I thought you might be."
Kyara looked up at him. The streetlights only reached the front of the building, and the pale moonlight left his face half in shadow.
"People are friendly, if that's what you mean," said Kyara. To her surprise, it was true. Once she'd started telling people about her own day instead of asking them about theirs, the Northerners had opened up to her like she'd been there all her life.
Thank you, Caitlin, for explaining that little regional craziness to me.
"No," said Jason. "I know that. I mean, not that I've been checking up on you or anything. I just started to notice."
"I should hope not," teased Kyara, not giving him an inch. To her surprise, he got genuinely upset.
"Damnit, Kyara, could you not make this any harder?" he asked, his voice almost pleading.
"I'm sorry," she said, immediately contrite. Despite everything, she found that she really hated to see him upset. "I just really don't know what you're getting at."
"I'm trying to ask you out again," he explained, sounding frustrated, though with her or himself Kyara couldn't say. "I know I messed it up last tim
e, but I've been trying to be more open and honest, and I hoped maybe you'd noticed."
"Oh, Jason," said Kyara. It was the first time she'd called him by his first name since she'd found out about the article. His face fell at the tone of her voice. "I just ... I can't. I called it off before I found out about any of that, remember?"
"Yeah, I just figured that, with the restaurant doing better...." he trailed off.
He looks as lost as I am, reflected Kyara, her heart going out to him. But it's a bad idea. I'd never be able to trust him, and I couldn't tell him about me.
"I'm sorry," said Kyara, turning to go back inside. "It's just... not going to work."
She left him behind, watching her go back into the warmth.
Kyara scrubbed at the inside of her front window, removing the fingerprints left as she'd put up her new lettering. Outside, autumn was coming to a close. The riot of red, yellow, and orange which had transformed the hills into burnished gold for the last several weeks was now fading. Brown leaves began to fall, leaving the trees stark and gray.
The town had its own beauty, even now. The rapidly shedding trees twined together along the edge of the town, old maids holding hands as they settled in to sleep. The white paint of the houses along Main Street glowed in the pale blue light of the coming winter. Everyone was getting in a last moment outside, promising that winter would be colder than she could imagine.
Even Jan seemed to be getting back out. There she was, half out of her door.
Kyara's meandering eye wandered on, then snapped back to her elderly neighbor. Jan was slumping, half falling out of her front door.