I rinse quickly and walk out, grabbing my towel. My clothes are filthy with sweat after our little stroll in the sun. On impulse, I kneel at the water’s edge and scrub them with the remaining soap, wringing them out as best I can.
“Smart,” Julien says. “They should dry overnight if we hang them near the fire.”
I wrap the towel tightly around my body and gather my wet clothes. We walk back to the cabin in silence.
At the cabin door, he pauses. “I’m going to get some firewood. Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”
I nod and slip inside, turning the deadbolt after him. The cabin feels empty and too quiet without his presence. I spread my wet clothes over the backs of chairs, arranging them near the fireplace before dropping onto the couch and taking a deep breath.
Exhaustion hits suddenly, my body remembering the long walk, the tension, the cold swim. I lie down, covering my towel-wrapped body with a throw blanket. Just for a minute, just until he gets back.
The next thing I know, three knocks jolt me awake. Darkness has fallen, the cabin pitch black except for the moonlight streaming through the windows. How long was I asleep?
I stumble to the door, checking through the peephole before unlocking it. Julien stands outside with an armful of wood and two fish dangling from a makeshift line.
“Dinner.” He holds up the fish and brushes past me. “Hope you’re hungry.”
I lock the door behind him and follow him to the kitchenette. He sets about building a fire in the fireplace while I check my clothes—still damp.
“How long was I out?” I ask.
“Couple hours.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Found a lantern in the shed. And matches.”
“Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“You needed it.” He strikes a match, touching it to the kindling in the fireplace. The flame catches, spreading slowly to the larger logs. “Head feeling better?”
“Yep.”
The fire grows, casting a warm glow across the room. Julien places a cast-iron skillet on the grate, then returns to the fish, gutting and cleaning them.
“Did your father teach you that?” I ask.
“Yeah.” His voice softens. “Said every man should know how to feed his family.”
“And every woman?”
“He was old-fashioned. Want to learn?”
“I… Sure.”
He gestures for me to come closer, and I move around the counter to stand beside him. He places one of the cleaned fish on a cutting board, then guides my hands to show me how to remove the skin with a knife.
“Like this.” His fingers cover mine. “Follow the natural line.”
I concentrate on the task, trying to ignore the heat between us.
“We can grill these over the fire,” he says. “Not exactly five-star dining, but it’ll do.”
Once the fish are prepared, we move to the fireplace, setting them in the skillet with a bit of oil and salt from the kitchen cabinets. The sizzle and smell fill the cabin, my stomach growling in response.
We sit on the floor before the fire, the couch at our backs as we watch the fish cook. The firelight dances across Julien’s face, softening his features, turning his eyes to liquid amber.
He already proved he won’t leave me behind.
“I believe you,” I say.
“About what?”
