A Very...Pregnant New Year's

Brad eyed the cabin with a dubious frown. The windows were cracked and layered with dust, and the roof probably leaked. Its primitive walls, fashioned from logs, looked sturdy enough, however, and would give them shelter until help arrived. He had no doubt that at least for the time being, the most sensible thing to do was to stay put and wait for the rescue squad.

It wouldn’t be a picnic, by any means. His companion was as prickly as a porcupine, and made no secret of the fact that she considered him too low to lick her boots. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold his temper in the face of such undisguised contempt. He just hoped that he could hang on to his sense of humor, and that they wouldn’t kill each other while they were waiting.

Anne sank down onto the creaking wooden step and buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t have gone another step. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Brad’s arm supporting her, she wouldn’t have made it this far.

She owed him a lot. The thought didn’t help her mood any. He was bound to be insufferable about it when this was all over.

“How are you doing?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice. “I’ll be fine when I’ve had a chance to rest.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable.” He rattled the handle of the door. “First we have to find a way inside this shack, then we have to find some way to build a fire.”

“Wouldn’t that be breaking and entering?” She looked warily at the battered windows. “What if the owner comes back in the morning?”

“We’ll welcome him with open arms.” He shook his head at her, spraying fine drops of water from the melted snow in his dark blond hair. “This is survival, Annie. The owner will understand that.”

“What if he’s in there, sleeping?”

“Then he’s deaf.” Brad moved over to a window and ran his fingers along the edge. “I pounded the heck out of the door on my way down.”

She stared at him as a thought occurred to her. “Why didn’t you break in then? Why did you keep going instead of waiting out the storm in here?”

He kept his face hidden from her as he examined the window. “I was looking for you.”

She felt a jolt of surprise. “You mean you didn’t just stumble across me by accident?”

“Well, I have to admit, there was a certain element of luck to it. I lost sight of everyone when the first wave hit. I got thrown around a bit and when I surfaced I saw your broken ski. I figured you couldn’t be too far away.”

She frowned. “How did you know it was my ski? It could have been anyone’s. It could have been your girlfriend’s. Where is she, by the way?”

“What girlfriend?”

“The giggling redhead making a fool of herself out there with you.”

He glanced at her. “Oh, you mean Marlene. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just someone I got paired up with for the midnight run.”

“How convenient for you.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

Anne pretended to be examining her injured ankle. “She was a little hard to miss, considering the way she was falling all over you.”

“Jealous?”

She managed a scornful laugh. “The only thing I’d be jealous about is if she’d made it down the mountain and was lying in a comfortable bed in the lodge.”

“Which is probably where she is right now. The last I saw of her she was heading through the trees well out of the way of the avalanche.”

“Well, good for her,” Anne muttered.

“Which is why I knew the broken ski didn’t belong to her. Besides, only a Parker would have custom-made skis in hot pink.”

“Only an Irving would make such a big deal about it.”

Her comeback was lost as Brad straightened with a satisfied grunt. The window emitted a loud crack and creaked open.

“You didn’t break it, did you?” Hanging on to the wall, Anne hauled herself to her feet.

“Nope, so you can stop worrying about the owner suing us. It wasn’t even locked, just frozen shut, which is the way we’re going to be if we don’t get a fire started soon.”

Anne watched as he poked his head inside the window, then heaved himself over the sill and climbed inside. Within seconds he opened the door.

Doing her best to disguise her limp, she stepped over the threshold into the damp, musty darkness of the cabin. The beam from Brad’s headlamp had weakened considerably when he directed it around the confined area.

There was enough light for Anne to make out the woodstove in the middle of the room and the rickety-looking cot tucked into the far corner. Apart from that, there appeared to be no other furniture, except for a small square table and a couple of cheap wooden chairs. She couldn’t really see thick cobwebs hanging in the corners, but she had no doubt they were there.

“Not exactly Club Med, is it?” Brad murmured.

If her spirits hadn’t been at an all-time low, then, Anne might even have smiled at that. Right then, however, she couldn’t see much to smile about. The cabin felt almost as damp and cold as the air outside, and smelled of mold and wood smoke.

The narrow cot seemed to be the only bed available, and the only covering was a ratty looking blanket folded at the bottom of the thin mattress. A cell in Alcatraz would have been more comfortable, and as if that wasn’t enough, she had to spend what was left of the night there with Brad Irving, of all people. All in all, the year was ending on a pretty dismal note.

“First thing we’d better do is find wood for a fire.” Brad flicked the beam of his headlamp over Anne’s boots. “How’s the ankle?”

Still smarting from his assessment of her dubious athletic abilities, Anne lied. “It’s fine.”

“Good. I’ll get the wood. No sense in both of us going out there again. You can stay there on that cot until I get back.”

The last thing she wanted was to be left alone in the cold darkness of that awful cabin. It would, however, give her a chance to rest her ankle. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to offer her help. “It might be easier if we both went.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t want you wandering off and getting lost in the dark.” He pointed to his head. “This is the only light we have left.”

He made it sound as if she’d lost her own headlamp on purpose. Annoyed, she glared at him, though she could barely see his face. “I wish you would stop treating me as if I were helpless. For your information, I’ve been camping in the wilderness before, and I grew up skiing on these mountains. I’m not totally clueless about the outdoors.”

The irony in his voice was hard to miss when he answered her. “Right. My guess would be that your idea of camping is an air-conditioned trailer, complete with TV, and I’m willing to bet you’ve spent more time in the lodge than you have on the slopes.”

Damn him, he was right. According to her sisters, Brad had spent at least two summers backpacking in the high country and one camping in Alaska during his college years. Until now, the closest she’d come to actually roughing it was a canoe trip on a quiet stretch of the Colorado.

The door creaked open, letting in a blast of cold air. He paused in the doorway, silhouetted against the snow-laden branches of the trees outside. “Just stay put until I get back. That way you won’t fall over anything.”

Closing the door behind him, he left her frowning in the cold, damp darkness of the cabin. He talked as if she were a prize klutz. As if it were her fault the avalanche had thrown her into a ravine. And if he didn’t quit with the patronizing she was going to hit him over the head with his precious headlamp.

She waited awhile, sitting on the edge of the cot until her temper cooled, and she could think straight again. Across the room she could just make out some shelves on the wall, and something faintly gleaming in the light reflected by the snow outside.

Deciding to investigate, she tested her weight on her injured ankle. The pain made her wince, but it wasn’t enough to prevent her from limping across the room. As she approached the shelves she caught sight of something hanging on the wall next to them. Her spirits rose considerably when she realized it was an oil lamp, and there were actually matches sitting in the saucer.

She pulled the lamp from the wall, and shook it, half expecting it to be empty. The sound of oil swishing around inside reassured her. The matches were damp, but she finally got one alight and seconds later a soft glow lit up the room.

Just having enough light to see made her feel warmer, even though her teeth refused to stop chattering. She pulled off her hat and tucked it in her pocket, then inspected the items on the shelves. An aluminum bucket sat on one end, next to a cooking pot and a frying pan. The plastic mugs and plates had the patterns worn off them, but were otherwise clean and serviceable. Several spoons stood inside one of the mugs and much to her delight, she discovered a jar of dried soup mix and another full of rice, tucked behind a large, slightly rusted can of cocoa. There were even a half dozen toilet rolls still in the original wrapper. Things were beginning to look a little less bleak.

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