Snowed In

“What is all this?”

“It’s a hot springs,” said Boone. “Naturally heated water coming from some deep, underground source. Apparently they built this place over it, as an attraction. Like a Turkish Bath house, or—”

“Oh my God, YES!”

He laughed, and for the first time his laugh was pure and happy. “Yeah, that was my reaction too.”

Off to the side, I saw a pile of rags that probably used to be towels. There was another oil lamp there too, also lit.

“This is where you slept?”

“Yup. I found the lamps down here too.”

I whirled on him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us about this place? We could’ve come down here! We could’ve warmed up!”

He shrugged. “I never got the chance.”

“But—”

“Besides,” he said, “getting the fire started was a good idea. When the storm finally dies down, a rescue party might see the smoke. Although by now I’m pretty sure we’ve all been assumed dead.”

He stepped forward and began pulling off his ski boots. “You hungry?”

I blinked. My stomach lurched at the mere idea of putting something in it.

“You have food too?”

Boone pointed back to the little nest where he’d slept. “There’s a can of—”

I sprinted over before he even finished his sentence, nearly skidding on the slick tiled floor. A giant can of cling peaches had been torn open with something that obviously wasn’t a can-opener. But inside…

Inside were big chunks of beautiful, peach-colored goodness.

Boone called over my shoulder. “Just so you know, the expiration date on that was—”

“I don’t care!”

I scooped half a peach into my mouth, savoring the sweet, delicious taste. My jaw was finally happy to have something to crush, my throat something to swallow. Four or five peaches later, my hands and fingers were all covered in sticky syrup. It ran down my chin. My neck…

“See that other can?”

I looked to the left, and a second can seemed filled with a dark liquid.

“Is that…”

“Water.”

Thank God!

I picked up the makeshift cup and drank so fast my throat couldn’t keep up. Water spilled down my face, wetting my chest, soaking my bra. It ran down my stomach and I still didn’t care, I was too focused on drinking as much of the cool, delicious liquid as I could get. When I put the big can down again, it was more than half empty.

“Sorry,” I said, burping uncontrollably. I took a moment to breathe. “It’s just that—”

“No worries,” Boone said. “It was only melted snow.”

I heard a familiar noise: the sound of a long zipper being pulled. When I turned back around, my latest savior was already stepping out of his snow pants.

“I… I—”