To: Owen Wilde
Date: December 21, 8:13 AM
Re: NOT an emergency
God, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.
Occupational hazard. Words pop into my brain, and I tap them into the nearest electronic device. Plus, I haven’t had coffee yet today.
Can we please just pretend I didn’t say that?
Now I’m blushingandlaughing in the man’s kitchen.
From: Owen Wilde
To: George Knight
Date: December 21, 8:17 AM
Re: NOT an emergency
Say what? Did you say something? I remember nothing.
Also, I feel responsible for your lack of coffee. I didn’t leave you much.
Aaaanyway… regarding fires, if the pile got rained on, just give the wood time to dry out. But that’s going to take a while, so in the meantime, you might want to head to town and grab a couple bundles at the general store.
There.That’s good. See? I can interact with someone like George Knight like a normal person. At least as long as Knight isn’t hurling innuendos at me first thing in the morning.
I start laughing again. Good God.
From: George Knight
To: Owen Wilde
Date: December 21, 8:20 AM
Re: NOT an emergency
Noted. Much appreciated.
- George
PS: Lack of coffee is all me. It’s here. I just haven’t made any yet. Went out for supplies yesterday. Could not survive in wilderness without it. As you have probably guessed from my setup there.
I glanceat the intimidating machine in front of me, which I had, in fact, been trying to figure out when the first email had come in.
I—clearly—don’t have the same kind of dependent relationship with coffee that George has. But I wouldn’t mind knowing how to fix myself something with this thing. And whileI’d never have contacted Knightjustfor something like this, I realize now that we seem to be emailing each other, there’s no reason I can’t just ask.
CHAPTER 19
GEORGE
Steaming mug now in hand,still in my pajamas, I drop into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and open my laptop.
I’ll head to town for firewood in a little while—I do want to be able to make a fire so I can work on the porch, and the walk will probably do me good as far as thinking through the story. But I know I need at least to look at my notes first. Remind myself where I am in the book, what Sebastian Steele was grappling with when Ilast closed the file, a couple days ago. See if it’s really as clunky and convoluted and terrible as I think it is.
I wince, hold my breath, and click to open the file. Then I read.
