Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rush
The storm raged damn near apocalyptic for hours.
The shed ended up being home to some rakes, shovels, and a family of mice only.
No generator to be found. Katie had scrounged up a flashlight and one gas lantern which we both agreed we would use in the common space, then take turns using it go get ready for bed before extinguishing it, not wanting a fire risk.
The rain had started soft at first, making me wonder if we were being alarmists just because we were deep in the woods without all the ideal resources.
But then it started to pick up steam, pelting at the windows and roof with an end-times-type fury as the wind continued to whip through the trees.
Between cracks of lightning and claps of thunder, I could hear the telltale snapping of trees in the woods, a little fact that I kept to myself because Katie seemed to work herself up into a panic over the idea of a tree crashing through the roof.
I wanted to tell her it wasn't a valid concern, but as surrounded by them as we were, and as the hours stretched on with very little respite, I started to get concerned myself.
Sure, if something happened to the roof, we had the cars to get out of Dodge. But I had a feeling that the road leading there wasn't going to be completely clear, nor would it be high on the list of the township to clear seeing as we seemed to be the only ones up here.
I kept my worries to myself, though, as we both took turns staring out of windows, checking our useless phones, reading the books we brought with us.
But, for me, I was mostly wondering about the others, about why no one else had made it but us, if maybe Katie and I were the ones who got it wrong.
I'd be more inclined to believe that if it was just me at the cabin, if I had mixed up the date. But Katie had always had great attention to detail. The office would fall apart without her. I really didn't think the two of us would both get it wrong.
So, then, where the hell was everyone else? Sure, it was possible some of the others had plans they couldn't get out of, or simply didn't feel like being in the woods. But there were quite a few employees at our job now; someone else should have shown up.
For one insane moment, I wondered if Fee had done this on purpose. But Fiona wasn't someone who meddled. She minded her own business, did her own thing, let everyone else do theirs.
Besides, what purpose did that serve?
Again, if it was just me here, I could see that. Fee might not have been a meddler, but she liked to fuck with you on occasion. And this would be her finest work yet.
But it didn't make sense that Katie was here too. If there was anyone in the world that no one wanted to fuck with, it was Katie.
Save for the assholes she went to school with, I guess. But kids suck. She was shy and unable to stand up for herself.
No one at the office would do something shitty to her. Everyone loved her, protected her like a little sister or a daughter.
Which left me, well, back at one. Completely in the dark about what was going on.
But I was determined to make the most of it. Once the storm had passed.
I figured there would be some clean-up to do which would be welcome after being trapped inside. Then maybe I could show Katie to the lake. She wouldn't want to swim—hell I didn't want to swim again—but she would get a kick out of the ambiance, the wildlife around.
If nothing else, I think she would find it better than some asinine trust-fall exercise that likely would have been part of our stay if everyone else showed up on time.
It would get us out of the cabin.
Make the day pass faster.
Then, maybe we would take a drive down the road to see if it was clear. If it was, we could head out to a spot where we found some reception, call Fee, and see what the hell was going on.
"Tired?" I asked when she yawned for the tenth time since dinner. We'd had mac & cheese that she'd insisted on tossing some broccoli into, which, somehow, made it even better.
"Yeah," she admitted, closing her book, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I haven’t done anything all day, but, yeah, oh no," she said as the lights finally flickered and crapped out.
"Are you afraid of the dark?"
"Not the dark, per se. But, you know, tripping and falling down the stairs in the dark is something worth worrying about,” she admitted.
"Alright. Tell you what," I said, getting up, using the flashlight on my phone to walk over to the oil lamp, messing with the wick to get it right, lighting it, then slipping the hurricane lid back on, adjusting the flame again when it blackened the glass.
"You take this and walk up the stairs. I will follow behind to catch you in case you fall.
Then you can take this into your room to get ready for bed while I lock the place up.
I doubt anyone is showing up in this shit. "
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed. "And thanks," she said, taking the lamp from me. "For, you know, not thinking I've been ridiculous about everything," she clarified, turning to walk out of the room, leaving me to follow behind.
"So for being a halfway decent person? You really don't have to thank me for that, Katie."
With that, we went through our new nightly routine. I gave her the flashlight in case she needed it. Then we both turned in.
I figured I would toss and turn, not having done much to burn off any energy, but I passed out within a few moments of getting into bed.
I probably would have slept soundly through the night.
Except then there was a soft voice calling my name.
"Rush?" it called, getting louder, pulling me fully awake to find a flashlight pointed at the ceiling, giving soft light to the whole room, showing me a bed-tossed Katie who was, inexplicably, wearing three sweaters, and had a blanket wrapped around her.
"What's up, baby?" I asked, scraping a hand down my face.
Outside of the blanket, I could feel the chill in the air. And even as I noticed that, I became aware of something else.
Chattering.
As in teeth.
"Are you shivering?" I asked, squinting at her small body, shrouded in layers.
"I know. It's crazy. I'm always cold, though. And since the heat went out, it got so cold. I had four blankets on and it wasn't helping. I just... I know it is a lot to ask, but could you maybe start a fire downstairs, so I can sleep there?"
"No," I said, shaking my head, watching as her face fell, her eyes looking a little stricken before her gaze dropped.
"Katie, no. That's not what I meant. I'll make you a fire.
But you'll be warmer if I do it in here.
Smaller space. And, for the record, it's not a lot to ask to keep you fucking warm, babe. "
"I, ah, I will just grab an extra blanket or two to sleep on," she said, turning to walk away.
"Wait wait wait," I called, pausing long enough for her to turn back. "What?"
"A blanket," she repeated. "For me to sleep on. The floor is hard," she added, brows pinching like she thought I might be dumb.
"Christ. You're not sleeping on the fucking floor, Katie," I said, shaking my head. "There’s a bed here."
"Yeah, I mean... that's your bed."
"We can share it," I told her, watching as her gaze skittered from it to me, to the floor, and back again.
"Like a life-or-death, survival situation, sharing body heat.
That's it," I told her, even though I knew damn well I could have easily just swapped over to her room, and have been warm enough to get some sleep.
I didn't need to stay here, share the bed.
But, for some reason, I wanted to. That was probably shitty of me, but I was choosing not to think about that.
"Are you sure? Really, the floor will be fine. I, ah, I like a hard bed."
"Shit, you're a terrible liar," I told her, chuckling, as I climbed out of the bed.
"Fine. I like a really soft bed actually," she admitted.
"And here one is," I told her, waving my arm toward it.
Her gaze went to the bed for just a second, then my forearm, bicep, shoulder, chest, lower, making me suddenly aware that I didn't have a shirt on.
"Baby," I called, trying to force my lips into a straight line, knowing she would take a smile the wrong way as her gaze shot up. Sure, I might have enjoyed being eye-banged by a cute woman, but she would likely be mortified caught doing so. "Get in the bed, Warm up. I'll work on the fire."
With that, she did, if for no other reason than to avoid talking about her long once-over. Though, as she settled in the bed, I could feel her gaze on my back as I piled firewood, opened the flue, stacked some kindling, and reached for a long matchstick.
It was strange and interesting that my back somehow felt warmer before my front did even as the fire burst to life.
"Alright," I said, going back toward the bed, sliding under the blankets, noticing for the first time that the bed was a hell of a lot smaller with two people in it. Meaning we were touching from shoulder to toes. "All set."
"Thank you," she told me, readjusting her blanket pile around her, hand brushing me in the process.
"Jesus," I hissed, reaching out for her hand. "Your hands are like ice," I declared, squeezing her small one between my two bigger ones, chafing some life back into it before reaching for the other.
"I know you'd think there must be something wrong," she said, shaking her head. "But I've been checked out. Everything is fine. I'm just..."
"Lacking an insulation layer?" I suggested, getting a surprised snorting chuckle out of her.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Luckily for you, I run like a furnace. You'll be sweating soon enough," I told her.
Before her gaze dashed away, was that a little bit of heat I'd seen in her eyes?
No.
It couldn’t have been.
I mean, it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities that she might think I was good looking, or even charming, but I didn't imagine she had any kind of crush on me or some shit.
I was probably just making her uncomfortable.