#komeitellermanfh

Komei is not, by nature, a man prone to nerves, but tonight is different. He steps to the bar and orders himself a small glass of whiskey, turning it once in his hand before downing it in a single, decisive swallow. The burn steadies him, settles something restless in his chest. Then he waits.

When Jodie arrives, she is not difficult to spot. Komei straightens, crossing the floor to meet her and offering his hand, wasting little time  leading her into the next dance. Though neither of them are particularly talented dancers, they move well enough together, in quiet understanding of the other’s rhythm. 

When the song ends, they do not part immediately, Komei instead guiding her just beyond the busiest part of the floor. For a moment, he says nothing; then, gathering what courage remains (either from the whiskey or something deeper) he speaks.

“I have come to care for you,” he begins. “More than is wise, perhaps. More than I had intended. But I would rather be honest than silent. If you would have me,” he says, “I would ask you to be my wife.”

Jodie’s breath catches not in hesitation, but in something closer to relief.

“Yes,” she says, almost at once. “Yes, I would.”

There is a quiet, selfish sort of happiness in it, to be chosen for love alone. No financial arrangement, not for obligation, none of the uncertain reasoning that seems to guide her twin’s own impending marriage to Angela Pleasant. Whatever that union may be built upon, this feels different; this feels entirely her own.

Later, when the lanterns dim and the crowd thins, Komei leads Jodie outside to where his horse waits, offering her a steady hand as she climbs up behind him, the road to his cabin stretching ahead beneath the stars.

Komei Tellerman is a quiet man tasked with the less glamorous but essential work of maintaining the town’s outhouses. Though few would envy his trade, Freedom Hollow depends on men like Komei; men whose diligence prevents the spread of disease and keeps the town habitable. His work is often thankless, but those who understand the necessity of cleanliness on the frontier respect his unwavering commitment.

Winter keeps Komei Tellerman busy. The cold makes his work at the gong pits more miserable than usual, but there is little room for complaint. The pits must be kept clean, and Komei knows that the best way to do it is to burn whatever scrap wood he can gather and save the resulting ash. Day after day, he feeds small fires behind his cabin, allowing them to burn down to heaps of fine gray ash, then he carefully gathers it into sacks and saves it for the work ahead. 

A few days before Christmas, he stops at the General Store with a handful of coins tucked into his pocket, determined to find something useful for Jodie; something practical. He stands behind Dina Landgraab, who herself is admiring the soaps and makeup. Jodie has never been the type to appreciate those…nor ribbons nor perfume. 

Christmas Day arrives, and Komei spends the morning preparing his little house. He cleans the table and stokes the fire, and then preps a small roast pork for the oven. Jodie is spending the earlier part of Christmas with Jason and Angela, and though Komei knows she will not arrive until later, he finds himself glancing toward the door every few minutes.

At last, near sunset, there is a knock, and Komei's face brightens immediately. Jodie steps inside, bundled against the cold, and snaps her gaze toward the oven. 

"You cooked?"

"I can cook." She gives him a look.

"I didn't say you couldn't."

"You looked surprised."

"I was."

They sit down together once the pork is ready. The roast is tender and rich, served with potatoes, carrots, and thick gravy. After supper, Komei disappears briefly into the other room, and when he returns, he carries a little bucket of clothespins.

"For you." Jodie stares at the bucket for several seconds, almost in shock. 

"I needed these."

"I know. You’re always saying the old ones break." She looks up at Komei with genuine affection.

"You really do pay attention." He shrugs, suddenly bashful.

"I try."

By Friday morning  the memory of his recent encounter with “Jodie. Call me Jodie,” lingers enough that he finds himself pen in hand. The letter he composes is neat, and just formal enough to leave room for interpretation.

Ms. Larsen Jodelle Jodie, If you would permit it, I should be honored by your company for supper this Friday evening at the Freedom Hollow Dining Room. I trust the hour will suit you. K. Tellerman

There is no mention of what happened between them the night prior. The note is sent, and by evening, Komei mounts his horse and heads toward the center of town. 

Outside the dining room, beneath the soft glow of lantern light, Jodie waits. Komei reaches for both of her hands, taking them gently. 

“I am glad you came,” he says, his voice lower now. Jodie does not pull away. Whatever awkwardness could have followed such a meeting seems to dissolve quickly. 

He lifts his glass once they are settled inside, the soundtrack to their evening provided by the murmur of other diners. 

“To good company,” he says simply. Jodie returns the gesture, her expression measured but warm.

Conversation flows easily between them. There is a familiarity now, an undertone neither acknowledges directly but both seem aware of. Komei is attentive without pressing, his words chosen carefully; Jodie meets him in kind, her reserve softened just enough. 

The meal itself is...something.

Komei has ordered lobster, an indulgence rarely seen this far inland. He considers the improbability of its journey;  in truth, few in Freedom Hollow question such things too closely. Whatever its origin, Komei decides it is best not examined too deeply. Jodie, more practical, opts for a meat hand pie.

“The barn dance tomorrow,” Komei says, setting his glass aside. “Will you be in attendance?”

“I believe I shall,” she replies.

When the Jacquet wagon rattles back home, lanterns are lit and Denise is already at the hearth, presiding over a wedding meal worthy of Mr. Goth himself. The boar’s head, purchased from the Broke farm and butchered by Yves earlier that day is roasted to perfection, crackling skin and rich scent filling the house. Plates are passed, toasts are made, and laughter echoes late into the night, the newlyweds glowing beneath it all.

When at last the house quiets, Gilbert and Danielle slip upstairs to their now shared bedroom to celebrate their wedding night. Both have always been drawn to courtship and the thrill of romance, and in the hush of their wedding night they both secretly wonder whether choosing devotion will prove to be the correct path. By morning, they wake not as two households joined by ceremony, but as a married pair resolved, at least for now, to build a shared life and honor the vows they made the evening before.

By weeks end, life resumes its familiar rhythm. Yves makes his way to the Trading Post with a bundle of well-cured hides and furs, striking a fair trade with trapper Cyd Roseland, who has a package of various game for Yves. The Mayor himself greets Yves warmly in passing, offering congratulations on Gilbert’s marriage and praising the quality of the Jacquet shop’s work. Yves accepts both with pride, nodding in approval before returning to business.

Left alone in the house, Jodie has nearly settled with her sewing when a knock sounds at the door. To her surprise, it is Komei Tellerman, hat in hand and expression awkward as ever, come to deliver some ash to aid Jodie in crafting laundering solution and, perhaps, to linger longer than propriety would suggest. Their conversation is full of small courtesies and uneasy pauses, but something gentle and unexpected settles between them.

Komei, for all his clumsy words, listens with earnest attention, and Jodie finds herself speaking more freely than she has in weeks. One moment stretches into the next, and before either quite realizes it, the quiet house holds more than conversation. Their closeness is less reckless and indulgent than Jason’s had been, and it leaves Jodie with a sense of warmth she has not felt in some time.

By the faint gray of dawn, the forgotten dish Jodie had placed in the oven prior to Komei's unexpected visit smolders, then flares, smoke curling into the hallway before flames burst sharply from the stove. Jodie enters the kitchen with a gasp, heart pounding, just as the front door flies open and Jason stumbles in from the night. Eyes widening at the sight before him, he rushes forward, beating back the flames before they can take hold.

When the danger has passed, Jason turns to his sister angrily. “What were you thinking, Jodie?” He snaps, his voice rough with exhaustion and fear. “You could’ve burned the whole house down. I work myself raw to keep this place standing, and you nearly lose it by being careless!”