Chapter Seven
Ablaze
Eli
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“W HERE’S THE RANGER who works here?” Erin peered around the gloomy space as I hauled our bags inside and slipped my gun into my back pocket.
Searching the interior, I found it much the same as the ones I’d worked in previously. Designed only for single occupancy, there was one small double bed, a table, chair, and basic provisions.
“They’re rarely manned anymore.” My gaze traveled to the corners of the place, searching for something to barricade the door closed with. Survival depended on our ability to block out the cold and find our own heat source.
“So, they’re just abandoned?”
She seemed perplexed by the answer, although I wasn’t sure why. Most wildlife parks weren’t government-funded, which meant whatever donations they received went to pay for conservation and repairs. There was no money for rangers—that was one of the reasons I no longer did the job.
“Look for some wood,” I instructed, bored of her unhelpful questions. There might be time for a q and a later, but the present moment required action. “It might be stored in a corner, or perhaps a box somewhere.”
“Right.” She glanced back, her expression disgruntled as she edged to the far corner.
Apparently, Erin wasn’t used to being told what to do. My lips curled at the irony. She’d have to get used to it.
“Over here!” She ran toward the corner. “Will this work?”
I bloody hoped so. Even my waterproofs weren’t as effective as I’d have liked. We needed a fire urgently.
“Let me see.”
She held one of the chopped pieces of wood aloft at my approach, her eyes hopeful.
“That’s good.” Taking the timber from her, hope bloomed in my chest. Whoever worked there had left chopped wood. That boded well for our chances. “How much is there?”
She gestured to the small collection. “Maybe fifteen logs.”
“It’s a start.” I didn’t like to mention that we’d need much more than that if the snow was going to persist. “Sometimes there’s a huge box at the back of these places. That might have more supplies.”
“Thank God.” She rose to her feet, her breath visible in the gloom between us. “Do you have a fancy way to light it?”
“Like a caveman, you mean?” My tone was wry as I walked back to my bag and opened the front pocket. All being well, the enormous box of matches wrapped in plastic I’d brought along for emergencies would do the trick.
“No!” She snorted, moving to join me. “I assumed they taught you some techniques when you took the ranger’s job.”
“They taught me to always carry these.” I waved the box of matches at her. “But to only use them with care.”
“Right.” She shivered. “Good thinking.”
“Do you have a flashlight?”
“Yeah.” Cowering from the open doorway, she dragged her bag out of the shrill breeze and searched inside. “Somewhere in here.”
“Once we get the fire started, I’ll find a way to keep that door closed.” I grabbed the matches and the lumber. “Right now, we need the light.”
“O-okay.” Thrusting her flashlight at me, she offered a smile. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I flicked on the beam, directing it around the cabin. Somewhere away from the door, there’d be a makeshift hearth. If I’d been paying more attention on the way in, I might have noticed where the chimney was, but I’d been too distracted by Erin’s upset to pay attention. “Over there.”
Tucked in the opposite corner to the stash of wood was evidence of the fireplace I’d been looking for, and I hurried toward it. It was in a good position—away from the open doorway that could inadvertently extinguish its precious inferno.
Dropping to one knee, I angled the flashlight in its direction and noticed a large bowl pushed away to one side. Presumably, that had been used to carry water or maybe even to cook with. I made a mental note to remember it was there in case we needed to use it, but the immediate concern was starting the fire. Throwing the wood in the ashy remnants of the last blaze, I selected one match from the full pack and struck it, guiding the flame toward the waiting wood.
“Can I help?” Her pained voice was a stark reminder of how cold and wet she was. The sooner the fire was big enough to ease her frozen limbs back to life, the better.
“You can bring another log.” Resisting the urge to glance back, I concentrated on ensuring the flickers took hold and grew into a fire that would warm us. “Thank you.”
Her footsteps echoed behind me as she moved to comply, and within a moment, she appeared at my shoulder, pushing the timber at me.
“Thanks.” Our gazes locked briefly when I took the wood from her and hurled it beside the already lit log. “Stay here and warm up.” Rising to my full height, I grabbed the flashlight and signaled for her to move into my place. “I’ll close the door and find a way to keep the place secure.”
“Yeah.” She lifted her palms toward the flames, her body still trembling despite the sudden heat source. It would take time for her to warm properly and would involve her getting out of those wet clothes. “Some maniac went mad and shot at the lock.”
Chuckling at her, I shook my head as I moved to close the door. With the frigid wind finally trapped outside, the hushed volume inside the cabin was stark. “That maniac was trying to look after you.” Her chiding might have bothered me, but finally inside and with a basic fire started, my mood was buoyed. “You might want to listen to him.”
“I’m trying.” She threw me a guilty half-smile. “This just isn’t how I saw today going.”
“You and me both.” Guiding the beam of her flashlight around, I looked for a suitable barricade.
There were few options. The space only contained the most rudimentary furniture, and Erin’s assessment had been accurate—my gunshot had damaged the lock to the point it was all but useless. Resolving to move the sturdy-looking wooden bedside counter in front of the door, I hauled my pack out of the way and started work. I wouldn’t relax until the cabin was secured. Hungry wolves and bears prowled the area when the sun went down, and the smell of smoke might draw them to us.
“Are you keeping me here?” Her tone was sardonic as I lodged the unit into place. “Because I don’t remember consenting to that plan.”
“That’s because there was no discussion.” Shrugging out of my waterproofs, I winked at her. “You’re the only one I have left, Erin. I’m keeping you safe whatever happens.”
She glanced at the flames, pressing her lips into a line as if fighting the impulse to smile. “Thanks, I guess.”
“The unit should keep out any unwelcome visitors.” Collecting my gear, I dragged the chair closer to the fire and stretched it out over the seat.
“Visitors?” Her eyebrow arched.
“Any local wildlife that might come calling,” I clarified.
“Oh.” Her bemused expression suggested she hadn’t even considered that option.
“I’d get out of your wet gear too if I were you.” Eyeing her soaking leggings, I looked around for something to cover her with. “Your clothes will need to dry. Do you have spares?”
“Only a spare hoodie.” She sighed. “And no offense, but I don’t really want to wander around half-naked.”
Shame.
My lips twitched as I envisioned the scenario she rejected. I could get used to an attractive, half-naked woman roaming the place.
“There’ll be something you can use.” I glanced back at the bedside unit. “The cabin I frequented had spare blankets.” Three strides saw me back to the counter, and opening the first drawer at the front revealed two suitable covers.
“Here.” Grabbing the additional layers, I threw them in her direction. “Take the wet clothes off and put those around you.”
She frowned as she lifted the covers to her nose. “These smell musty.”
“They’re the best we have.” Heading to the nearest window, I noticed the snow piling up all around the place. With night falling in the next few hours, we weren’t going anywhere for the foreseeable future. “Let’s make the best of things.”
“Fine.” Her curt tone communicated how little she liked my plan. “Can you step out while I change, please?”
My attention turned to meet her reddening face. “No way! I just changed out of my wet gear.”
“But...” She scowled as though I was being ridiculous. “I need privacy.”
“You need to get warm,” I reminded her. “And fast.”
I understood her concerns, but her whining was starting to grate. “Listen, I’ll check out the rest of the place while you get to it. I won’t be looking at you.”
“But you’ll be here!” She sounded disgusted at the idea, her response rousing the part of me that had dealt with enough petulant and ungrateful people to last a lifetime.
“Yes, I’ll be here.”
Her brows knitted as if she’d expected me to fold and go running out into the snow again. Her reaction only proved how little she knew me.
I didn’t run.
“Until the snow is no longer a threat, there’s one thing we both need to understand.” I didn’t know why she was protracting the inevitable. She would have to change out of the sodden fabric currently clinging to her thighs, and the longer it took her, the colder and more miserable she was going to be.
“Oh, yeah?” She straightened, reflexively rising to my challenge.
“We’re in this together.” Ensuring our eyes met, I held her gaze. “That means until you’re safe, I won’t let you out of my sight.”