“I’m so sorry, Gladys,” Samuel said. “I know this must be—”
“Sorry?” She turned on him with such intensity that he actually took a step back. “You’re sorry? Boy, you could have died. Don’t apologize to me about a building.”
“I—”
“Are you hurt? Either of you?” She looked between us with sharp, assessing eyes. “Any injuries I need to know about?”
“Samuel cut his hand,” I said. “But it’s healing.”
“Let me see.”
Samuel dutifully held out his hand, where the bandage I’d so carefully applied was still in place. Gladys examined it with the critical eye of someone who’d seen plenty of mountain-related injuries.
“This is good work,” she admitted grudgingly. “Someone knows their way around a first aid kit.”
“Farley took care of me,” Samuel said, and something about the way he said it made my face heat despite the freezing temperature.
Gladys’s eyes narrowed. “Did he now.”
“I—he was nearby when the tree came down,” I blurted. “I brought him back to my cabin. We’ve been... staying together. Since the storm.”
“Together.” She said the word like she were tasting it. “In your cabin.”
“It seemed like the safest option.”
“Mmhmm.” Gladys looked between us again, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed and turned back to the destroyed cabin. “Well. This is going to take months to repair. Insurance,contractors, permits—it’ll be spring before anyone can even start work.”
Samuel said. “I’m not staying much longer, anyway. I can—”
“Cabin six is empty.”
We both looked at her.
“Down the road a bit,” she continued. “Smaller than this one was, but it’s got heat, walls, a functioning roof. I can have it ready for you by tonight if you want to move in.”
Samuel opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off.
“No.”
They both turned to stare at me.
“No?” Gladys repeated.
My heart was pounding. I hadn’t planned to say that. The word had just... come out. But now that it was hanging in the air between us, I couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to take it back.
“He’s staying with me,” I said. “Samuel is staying with me. In my cabin.”
“Farley—” Samuel started.
“Unless you don’t want to.” I turned to face him, suddenly aware of how presumptuous I was being. “Unless you’d rather have your own space. I just assumed—I shouldn’t have assumed. You probably want—”
“I want to stay with you,” Samuel whispered. “If you want me there.”
“I want you there.”
We stared at each other, and I forgot about Gladys until she cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said, and there was something in her voice that might have been approval. “That settles that, I suppose. I’ll keep cabin six available in case either of you changes your mind.” She fixed us both with a stern look. “And I’m assuming that white cat I saw in your window wasn’t actually there. Since neither ofyou would be harboring a stray that I specifically told you not to feed.”
