“Please. Bob wishes he had my skills.” I rolled up a dusty floor mat and stuffed it against the crack in the door, stopping the flow of water seeping underneath and blocking a bit of the chill from the wind. “I didn’t figure you for a big Bob the Builder fan.”
“Not me. Brie. She loved that show. Couldn’t get enough of it. Had the lunchbox and everything.”
I spotted another leak and used another cup to collect it. It seemed the rate of dripping had accelerated. “You sure Duke and Biscuit are going to be okay out there?” I could picture the poor horses huddled together, wet and miserable. Despite everything Biscuit had done to make my life difficult, he’d kind of rubbed off on me.
“They’re fine. Tied them up under a thick clump of oak trees where the cliff blocks most of the wind and the rain.” His eyes traced over me, from my dripping hair to my water-logged boots. “It’s you I’m more worried about.”
Noah dug into the dry bag he’d brought from his saddle, pulling out a thick wool blanket. “You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.”
My eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t look.” He handed me the blanket, then turned around and made a show of covering his eyes with both hands. “I’m a gentleman.”
“You said youweren’ta gentleman.”
“Just don’t tell anybody else.” Noah still hadn’t moved, back turned and eyes closed. “Seriously, you’re going to get sick if you stay in those soaked clothes.”
“Fine.” I glanced at Yeti, watching me like a prison guard. “You too, girl. No peeking.”
Yeti gave one final dramatic shake, sending water droplets everywhere. She flopped down in the corner as if to say, “Humans. So dramatic about nudity.”
Myfingers trembled as I peeled off my soaked pullover, letting it fall to the floor with a wet slap.
“A lot of guys have tried to get me naked before,” I said, making sure Noah hadn’t moved. “But you win first prize for most creative.” My shirt followed, then my sports bra, both of them clinging to my frozen skin.
“A lot of guys?” Noah cocked his head, but kept his eyes shut and his back turned.
“You sound surprised.” My wet pants felt like they weighed a hundred pounds as I struggled to yank them off my legs.
Noah didn’t answer. Probably the wise choice.
“For the record, it hasn’tactuallybeen a lot.” I kept glancing at Noah’s back, but he kept facing the wall. “Only some. And by some, I mean a few.” I removed my underwear, another red G-string from Brief Encounters. “And by a few, I mean one.”
“Pilates guy?”
“Yeah.” Completely naked now, I wrapped the blanket tightly around myself like a cocoon, acutely aware of every inch of skin against the rough fabric.
“It was serious?”
“I thought so.”
Another streak of lightning ripped across the sky, momentarily lighting up the entire inside of the cabin. I pulled the blanket tighter as the shadows took back control.
“Okay,” I said, my voice just a whisper in the storm. “I’m decent. Well, as decent as I can be while wearing nothing but a scratchy wool blanket.”
Noah turned around, his face unreadable, like an ancient scroll found in a hidden tomb, covered in hieroglyphics that no one had deciphered for centuries.
“What about you?” I asked. While Noah wasn’t visibly shivering, his clothes were still dripping, and I could tell he wascold by the bluish tinge to his lips. Like a Smurf. Grumpy Mountain Man Smurf.
“Just need to get the fire going first.” Noah strode to a small wooden table in the corner, its surface warped from years of moisture. He grabbed one of the legs and yanked. The table splintered with a sharp crack. He broke the pieces into smaller chunks, arranging them in the stone fireplace. “This wood’s been inside, so it should be dry enough to catch.”
Next, he gathered the moldy logs beside the hearth, examining each one before adding it to his pile. Finally, he collected twigs and bits of bark that had blown in through the doorway, creating a careful structure.
He pointed to his saddlebags. “Can you look in there for the waterproof matches?”
Pulling the wool blanket tighter around my body, I crouched down to search his bags for the matches. Wrapping the blanket around me even tighter still, I brought them over and handed them to him.
Three tries later, a small flame caught the splintered table pieces. Noah nursed it carefully, adding larger pieces as the fire grew. The orange glow spread across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the determined set of his jaw.
