The hallway was brightly lit and hinted at the décor in the rest of the house. The walls were rough-hewn logs—the kind meant to look rustic and like someone built the house by hand. From that hallway, I couldn’t tell how big the housewas.
On the walls were simply framed pictures of men and women of all ages. I paused to study them. Some of the photos were incredibly old; some seemed new, with modernclothing.
“Griffin’s family?” Iasked.
“Mine, actually,” Chandler replied. “This is my area of the house. I’m the one that went out and got you. I got my snowmobile fueled up first. I brought you straight to my bedroom, which is the closest to thegarage.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you out of your bed. I’m sure you have a couch somewhere I can crash on, I don’t mind doing that.” I felt a little shiver at the idea of being in Chandler’sbed.
He was an attractive man. Even though he wasn’t bulky, he was chiseled in an artistic way. He looked like someone who should have a paintbrush in his hand—painting a nude. Preferablyinthe nude. His skin was the color of a bale of hay, warm under a sunset. I wanted to see itall.
“You won’t sleep on a couch. We have plenty of guestbedrooms.”
I nodded, glad to be offered a real bed, and took his elbow again, and he continued down thehallway.
The last doorway opened up into an enormous great room. A tiny Christmas tree was dwarfed by the open space. The walls in the room were also rough log, with few decorations. A couch and loveseat faced a big screen television—about the biggest TV I’d ever seen. In one corner a fireplace hosted a roaring and warmingblaze.
“Good lord, how big is that thing?” I pointed to theTV.
“I’m not totally sure. Close to a hundred inches, easy.” Chandler shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of TV. Griffin is the one usually draped over that couch, watching it. He spends all his time either outdoors or in here watching reruns ofCheersorsomething.”
I wondered if he had any hobbies, but put it out of my mind in favor of peering around the room. I saw two more hallways on one side and a wide doorway, almost as long as the room itself, opened up into a spacious kitchen-dining roomcombo.
“Come in here, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Chandler let go of my hand and walked toward thekitchen.
I followed slowly. “Thanks, but I’d really like to get in touch with my family, if you wouldn’tmind.”
Chandler slapped his forehead lightly. “Of course, I wasn’tthinking.”
He turned away from the mahogany-filled kitchen toward one of the hallways. “Come meetEllion.”
I trailedbehind.
The hall was like the one we’d come from, but no pictures were on the walls. They were completelybare.
“Chandler?” I asked as he drew ahead of me. I moved carefully, scared to strain my torso and cause morepain.
He stopped to wait forme.
“Who bound my ribs?” Iasked.
“Ellion. He’s had some EMT training.” That explained Griffin’s nurse comment. “When we moved up here we all took classes relevant to living in the wilderness. First-aid and medical emergencies werehis.”
I blushed at the thought of the unknown Ellion seeing my bare breasts. I felt the wrapping all the way up my chest, so he had to have seen thegoods.
Chandler opened a door to reveal a dimly lit room filled with computer monitors andkeyboards.
The mysterious Ellion blinked up at us from behind a bank of monitors. “Hello,” he said curtly. “I’m working onit.”
Chandler cocked his head. “Working onwhat?”
“Oh, I thought you knew. Our internet isout.”
My stomach sank again with his words. “You can’t be serious. I need to contact my family,” I said. Tears threatened to fill my eyes. I hated to think of themworrying.
“I’m working on it.” Ellion barely spared me a glance as he typed away on one of thekeyboards.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry to pressure you.” I didn’t know what else to say. He was the only person who could get me access to my family. “Don’t you have alandline?”
