I watched him open cans of Campbell tomato soup and pour them into a pan with a blackened bottom. By the time the warm familiar smell filled the small space I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“So, I guess I never said ‘thank you.’ For getting me out of the car.”

He kept his back to me filling soup into two enamel bowls and didn’t say anything.

I took a deep breath. I might as well try to squeeze blood out of stone. “So, thank you. I guess I would have frozen out there.”

“Here.” He handed me a bowl and a hunk of dry bread and sat on his stool. I looked around for another chair.

“I don’t do a lot of entertaining,” he said. “Do you want to sit here?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll just sit on the floor.”

He grunted and turned his attention back to his food.

“So, I guess you prefer being out here by yourself?”

“Yup.”

“Do you ever have people come to visit you here? Old buddies, friends?”

“No.”

“No one? Not even family?”

He said nothing.

“Have you got any family?” I asked, dipping my stale bread into the soup.

He didn’t answer but lowered his eyes to me. That’s when I noticed how unusual they were, hazel with golden flecks in them. He put his empty bowl down on the floor and stared at me cold. “Don’t you know it’s rude to pry?”

I swallowed the food in my mouth. “Well, excuse me. Don’t you know it’s rude to make your guest feel unwelcome?”

“You are not my guest.”

He was right. I hadn’t been invited, but I couldn’t help feeling wounded by what he said. I wanted him to want me here. I turned the hurt into anger. There was no need for such behavior. I was taking a little too much of his shit. I put my bowl down and jumped up.

“No, I’m not your guest. No, I wasn’t invited here, but I was brought here against my will. While I was unconscious! How do I know you didn’t club me over the head with a tree branch … and … and drag me here like some Neanderthal caveman so you can enjoy the pleasures of a woman while you live out your mountain man fantasy?” I fumed, but even as the words left my lips they sounded ridiculous.

He stared at me incredulously. “You crashed your car. You were unconscious. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Leave you there to freeze to death? And I assure you this is definitely not my fantasy. If you think you’re being held here against your will, then please, walk out. Go on, it will be my pleasure.”

Asshole. He didn’t need to be that categoric and absolute. Now I was beginning to actively dislike him. My hands balled into fists of frustration.

“Are you kidding?” I yelled. “There are bears, mountain lions, and God knows whatever else out there, not to mention the snow storm coming down if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I have noticed. So, sit down, shut up, and stop making so much damn noise.”

We were both silent again. I think I was shocked that I had initiated such a heated and unreasonable argument given my circumstances. I kept thinking if my rescuer had been a little old man or a woman, I would have been totally different. I would have been grateful and polite, and been more than willing to sit quietly without disturbing them until morning came. It was just that he was so sexy, so beautiful, with his chiseled cheekbones, his gorgeous eyes and his aloof, masculine manner that I wanted to know him and for him to know me. And when he made it obvious he didn’t want any such thing I couldn’t help needling him for a reaction, even if it was only anger.

“You’ll have to sleep on the floor,” he said curtly.

“Yeah, okay. I noticed you only have one bed so I figured I’d be bunking on the floor.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm in my voice.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why? Do you think I should give you my bed?”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” I backtracked. I should learn to hold my tongue around him, or I was just going to make this so much harder.

“You think I should be chivalrous or something?”

“Well …”

“Now you’re having a fantasy.”

“Look, I’m fine with the floor. I don’t need you to do anything. You’re the one that thinks you’re some hero, saving me from the frozen wild of my car.”

“Let me tell you something, Blondie, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t been driving too fast over the pass. If you snapped your chains you must have been driving like a bat out of hell. What were you thinking?”

I sighed, embarrassed to tell him about the sleaze-ball on my tail.

He shook his head disgustedly.

“I had to speed up, okay? There was this guy—”

“Oh, here we go. There’s always a guy.”

“He was following me,” I flared up.

“God, I wish I’d left you in that car. Now, I’m going to have some love-sick fool who’s been tracking your scent busting in here. If you’re thinking of making your boyfriend jealous, be warned I am not playing along.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, whatever he is to you.” His voice had become hard and disinterested.

“He’s nothing. He’s just some guy who thought he knew me. He was following me like a creep. He scared me, actually. I was trying to get away.” I brushed a tear off of my face before he noticed I was crying. “I don’t, um… I don’t have a boyfriend anyway, since you asked.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, no you didn’t. You assumed. I’m just correcting you.”

He didn’t counter offer the information, but looking at his surroundings it was pretty clear I was the only human interaction he’d had, male or female, for a while. He ruffled the hair at the back of his head. I had to force myself to look away from him, so that I wouldn’t stare. The simple way he moved was sensuous, almost like an invitation, to me. He walked to the door and opened it. A strong gust of freezing wind blew into the cabin. He propped a snow shovel just inside and secured the door against the storm.

“What’s that for?”

He smiled mockingly. “In case I have to shovel snow to clear a path out the door in the morning.”

“Oh.”

“I’m turning in. I’ll drive you into town in the morning first thing.”

“Okay. Yeah, I better get some sleep too. Thanks again. You know, for helping me.” “Whatever.”

“Good night,” I said softly.

He stopped halfway up the ladder to his bed and looked down at me. I saw in his beautiful flecked eyes that he wanted to say something more, but he must have changed his mind. Even so, I sensed the tiniest bit of tenderness surface when he said, “Good night.”

I dreamed of my sister, Anna. We were in our old family home. She had climbed to the top of a rickety old tree that grew in our backyard, but she couldn’t figure out how to get back down.

“Stay there! I’ll come for you,” I yelled, but she wouldn’t listen.

She was crying and trying to find a place to put her foot. In reality, my sister uses a wheelchair, is fed through a tube, and breathes through a trach. But in my dream she was normal. Her body was not yet ravaged by illness.

“Please, just wait there for me,” I begged. “I’ll climb up and carry you down on my back!”

“No! You can’t. We’ll both fall,” she cried frantically.

Suddenly there was a faraway rumbling sound. It sounded like a freight train for a moment, then it increased, and filled the air all around us. Like a tornado coming from all directions. I looked around me in fear. There was nowhere to run. The force of it made the tree Anna was in shake. My legs were frozen like they were in buckets of cement. The limbs began to drop from the tree. Anna lost her footing and tumbled down.

I bolted awake before she hit the ground. The rumbling and vibrating sound of my dream was still going on. It took me a moment to remember where I was. My breath quickened with terror and I jumped to my feet. What the hell? As quick as I was up all went quiet again. I stared around me in frightened disbelief. Moonlight reflected off the snow filled room with peaceful blue light.

“Avalanche,” Cade said, from above.

My head jerked upwards. “What?”

“It’s over. Go back to sleep.” His voice was calm, devoid of all emotion.

Oh, my God, this is crazy. What am I doing out here?