She blew out her breath and straightened. Tarr pulled his arm back, and she stood. “Well, I hate to say it, but the generator is not meant to heat the entire cabin.”
She took a few steps away from him and arrived in front of the couch. He’d slept there before, usually with Wiggins curled into his chest or covering his feet. Right now, she reached to pull the pillows off the couch, and she dumped them unceremoniously on the floor.
“I think we’re going to have to sleep out here.”
“Sleep out here?” Tarr repeated.
In the next moment, Briar released a catch on the couch, and the back of it laid down to create a flat surface. She turned toward him, and with the firelight shining in her eyes, he read the apprehension there without trouble.
“Yeah,” she said. “The couch unfolds into a bed, and we can pull it closer to the fire.” She flapped one arm toward the hallway. “We can close all the bedroom doors and seal the front door and the back door and try to keep all the heat out here.That way, the generator won’t have to work as hard. It’ll keep the fridge going, and we’ll have hot water, but the furnace won’t have to run as much.”
Tarr stood too, his heart suddenly moving into palpitation mode. “All right,” he said. His eyes dropped to the couch-bed. “We’re gonna sleep in that together?”
Briar scoffed, and his eyes flew back to hers. She wore her usual fire and determination, andohhhh, how Tarr loved it.
“That’s right, cowboy,” she said. “You’ve slept with me in my bed before. This is going to be no different.”
“I think it’s alittledifferent now,” he said.
She took one step toward him, and it felt a little menacing. “How so?”
“Well, for one, I’ve been holding your hand all day,” he said. “We went out this morning.” He cocked his head at her. “Are you seriously telling me it’s not going to be different?”
Briar’s jaw hardened, and Tarr knew he wouldn’t get an answer from her.
“I’ll go get our bedding.” She turned her back on him and started toward the hallway. “You build up the fire, and we’ll go from there.”
eight
Briar’s nose seemed to absorb all the chill in the air. She’d taken a few baby steps with Tarr—telling him a little bit about her family over her favorite pudding cups. Of course he wanted more, and she couldn’t blame him. He had been holding her hand a lot, and Briar didn’t even recognize her life for those few minutes while she sat on the hearth with his arm around her and everything warm and good permeating from him to her.
Of course, her old fear and familiar panic had set in, and she’d put a layer of distance between them once again. She’d spent too long fiddling with the pillows and blankets on their couch-bed for the night, while Tarr sat in the recliner he’d pulled closer to the fire, studying something on his phone.
He’d helped her lower blinds and close them, put weather-prevention strips along the floor at the front and back doors, and close off as much of the house as possible. The generator powered the hot-water heater, the refrigerator, the furnace, and the lights. She lowered the thermostat to sixty-four, thinking the fire would provide enough heat to conserve the energy and not kick the furnace on all night long.
She and Tarr had just finished the eighth or ninth round of a card game he’d played on the rodeo circuit, and she’d made a chilly escape to her bedroom to change into pajamas, and then to the bathroom to brush her teeth and take care of her other bedtime rituals.
Now, she stood in the mouth of the hallway and watched as Tarr wrestled Wiggins into a doggy sweatshirt, telling him things like, “You’re the bestest boy ever,” and “You look so handsome in this sweatshirt, buddy,” and “This will keep you nice and warm tonight.”
Wiggins never seemed to hurt for heat, and Briar hoped he would lay by her that night so she could be sandwiched between two warm, breathing bodies.
Tarr chuckled as Wiggins licked his face, and Briar regretted the little bit of attitude she’d let seep back into their relationship. “I’m done in the bathroom,” she said.
Tarr twisted to look over his shoulder at her, his smile staying firmly hitched into place. “All right,” he drawled.
He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt, and he didn’t even seem to feel the cold. He approached where she stood blocking the entrance to the hall, and she simply watched him, her eyes traveling up his body to meet his when he arrived directly in front of her.
“Is there a password, sweetheart?”
She wanted to touch him, so she reached out and placed her hand against his chest. “No.”
His smile faded into a more serious expression. Mother Nature could have blown down the front door and let in the blizzard raging outside, and Briar would not have looked away from Tarr Olson.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” The words scraped her throat as she pushed them out. “I’m not good at letting people in.”
“I know that, honey.” He leaned down and swept his lips across her cheek. “I’m hoping the more you do it, the easier it will become.”
With that, he brushed by her and went halfway down the hall and into the bathroom. The door clicking closed behind him jolted Briar out of her own mind, and she walked over to the dining room table where they’d been playing cards and picked up the electric lantern she’d found in her hall closet. She moved it to the end table in the living room and pulled back the blankets she’d laid on the front of the couch where she would be sleeping.
