Chill Factor - Page 19

“In the dark?”

“In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest of decisions. But I would have been okay if the storm hadn’t moved in so quickly.”

“I miscalculated, too. Stupidly I fell asleep and . . .” She stopped when she noticed that he was blinking rapidly as though to ward off vertigo. “Are you about to pass out?”

“Maybe. This damn dizziness.”

She stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Lean back, lay your head down.”

“If I pass out, wake me up. I shouldn’t go to sleep with a concussion.”

“I promise to keep you awake. Lie back.”

Still he resisted. “I’ll get blood on your couch.”

“I hardly think that matters, Mr. Tierney. Besides, it’s not my couch anymore.”

He relented and let her press him back until his head was resting on the cushion.

“Okay now?”

“Better, thanks.”

She went to the other sofa and, being chilled in spite of her coat, wrapped herself in the knitted throw.

Although Tierney kept his eyes closed, he said, “Not your couch anymore? I’d heard this place was on the market. It sold?”

“The closing was yesterday.”

“Who bought it? Someone in town?”

“No, a retired couple from Jacksonville, Florida, who want to spend their summers here.”

He opened his eyes and looked around the main room. The cabin had every modern convenience, but it had been built and decorated to look rustic, in keeping with the mountain setting. The furnishings were oversize and homey, designed for comfort rather than show.

“They bought themselves a great second home.”

“Yes, they did.” She glanced around the room, gauging the sturdiness of its construction. “We’ll be all right here, won’t we? For the duration of the storm, I mean.”

“What’s your water source?”

“A reservoir on a plateau about midway between here and town.”

“Hopefully the pipes aren’t frozen yet.”

She got up and rounded the bar that separated the main room from the kitchen. “We have water,” she announced as it sputtered from the faucet.

“Got anything to collect it in?”

“Kitchen utensils were included in the sale of the cabin.”

“Start filling every pan and pot available. We need to collect all the drinking water we can before the pipes freeze. Lucky you had that food with you. We won’t starve.”

She found a roasting pan she had used one Thanksgiving and put it in the sink beneath the faucet. As she came back into the main room, she motioned toward the hearth. “There’s firewood stacked on the porch.”

“Yeah, but I noticed when we came in that most of it is wet, and the logs haven’t been split.”

“Very observant of you.”

Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery
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