Snowbound

back for another load.

John nodded his approval as they dumped split

lengths in the wrought-iron racks. “That should keep us

going for a bit.”

“It’s a really big fireplace,” the girl said. “Have you

ever had to cook in it?”

“No. The generator hasn’t failed me yet.”

“God forbid,” Fiona murmured.

He silently seconded her prayer, if that’s what it was.

He’d be okay on his own with just the fire. But trying to

feed ten of them? No ability to do laundry for who knew

how long? He remembered all too well what it felt like

to go for days without a chance to do more than sponge

your underarms and genitals with lukewarm water, to get

so you couldn’t stand your own stink, to have sand in

every fold of skin and gritty between your teeth.

Somehow, he didn’t think the spoiled girl would

take even three days of sponge baths and half-cooked

food stoically.

“I get the first bath,” Amy declared, staring a challenge at the others.

Dieter pulled off his wool hat and shook his head like

a wet dog. “We just had baths. Why do you want to take

another one?”

“Because I’m cold,” she snapped, and stomped off.

“Why’s she so upset?” Hopper asked in apparently

genuine puzzlement.

Nobody leaped to explain. The teacher was too

tactful to say, Because she didn’t get her way. The others

were either indifferent or perplexed as well.

“Maybe she’s just having a delayed reaction to the

fact that yesterday was pretty scary,” Fiona said.

“But we’re okay,” one of the other girls protested.

“Some people are more resilient than others. It’s also

possible that getting stranded this way reminds Amy of

something that happened to her in the past. We all have

different fears.”

John shook his head. Damn, she was good. He

wondered if she believed a word she was saying.

“Now,” she said, more briskly, “let’s get everything

that’s wet laid out in front of the fire to dry. Neatly,” she

added, when one of the boys dumped socks and gloves

in a heap. “Then the lunch crew can get started.

Ah…who did I assign?”

“You!” they all chorused in glee.

She laughed with them. “Okay, okay! And, uh,

Tabitha and Erin, right?”

Erin nodded with composure John suspected was

typical, and Tabitha made a moue of displeasure.

“Next question.” Fiona smiled at him. “What’s on the

menu?”

“Soup and sandwiches.”

“That we can handle. Right, gang?”

He accompanied them to the kitchen to show them

where everything was. Fiona disappeared to the laundry

room to move a load to the dryer and start another one

while the girls opened cans of cream of mushroom soup

and dumped them in pans.

John loitered for a few more minutes, waiting for

Fiona to come back. Despite his earlier discomfiture at

imagining her naked, he couldn’t resist watching Fiona

competently slice cheddar cheese and slather margarine on bread to make the grilled cheese sandwiches she’d decided on. He doubted she or the girls were even

conscious of his presence. This past year, he’d discovered he had a gift for invisibility.

Damn it, he could have spent most of the morning

hiding out in his quarters, reading in front of the wood-

stove. But Fiona MacPherson intrigued him.

What he couldn’t decide was whether it really was

her in particular, or whether he’d been quietly healing

without realizing it and she just happened to be the first

attractive woman to come his way in a while.

Not true, he reminded himself; two weekends ago,

a quartet of women in their twenties had spent two

nights at the lodge. Apparently they’d been getting

together a couple of times a year since they graduated

from college. Each took a turn choosing what they did.

A couple of them were married, he’d gathered. One

of the two single friends in particular had flirted like

mad with him. He hadn’t felt even a flicker of interest,

and she’d been more beautiful by conventional standards than this slender teacher with the river-gray eyes.

He’d thought rather impassively that the woman who