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