A slow smile curled onto my lips. “You called for help, right?”
I’d been staring at the same chapter for several hours when I decided to take a break and go for a shower. But only a few minutes in the phone rang, and I got out and answered to the owner of the holiday cottage begging me to come over and help the “young lady” who’d spent the night in the freezing cold. So,I rushed over as quickly as I could – though, arguably, maybe a littletooquickly.
Her eyes darted to my mouth for the briefest second before snapping back up. “I was waiting for a plumber.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder, the movement smooth, practiced, the kind that turned heads. The confidence in her voice was unwavering.
“You thought you’d get a plumber to come out on Christmas Eve? I promised Liz that I’d handle any small issues with the cottage. She lives two villages away, and it’s not safe for her to drive in this weather,” I said, the cold beginning to seep into my body. “Are you going to let me in, or will I continue to freeze out here?”
She bit her lip, clearly debating. Her gaze flicked down my frame as if weighing up whether I was actually capable of fixing anything.
Maybe there was more to this ex-situation she had mentioned.
I ignored the chill biting at my nose and lifted the basic tool bag I’d brought. “I’m here to help, but I can’t do much from the doorstep. Unless what you want is to stand here and glare at me all day?”
With an exasperated eye roll, she stepped aside. “I think the weather outside might actually be an improvement.”
“How long has it been like this?” I asked, my attention falling on the thermostat. It might not have been minus three like outside, but it was close. My breath fogged in the hallway, and the chill equally bit at my nose.
“Since I arrived.”
I’d visited this cottage a couple of times to help other tourists and seen them through a couple of issues with operating the heating. So, I started tinkering, fairly certain I could help. Afterthe look of heavy doubt she’d just given me, Ireallywanted to be successful.
“You slept through this?” I looked towards her, noticing her fingers clutching at her blanket, the slight wobble in them.
“It…wasn’t so bad.”
“You could’ve knocked. I would’ve tried to help sooner.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Ihatedthat. Nobody should spend the night like this. I noticed the faded dark circles under her eyes, her pale skin almost translucent.
After a few moments adjusting the controls, none of my usual fixes seemed to do the trick. I sighed deeply, irked by the thought that I should’ve made sure the cottage was ready for visitors. I opened the cupboard off the hallway, Kit moving out of the way to allow for the door. Crouching down, I looked at the boiler controls, checking the gauges, running through the usual troubleshooting steps.
I doubled checked everything but received no response from the archaic boiler. Not to mention, no local plumber was going to answer a call this close to Christmas.
Sighing again, I resigned myself to being useless. “Well, I can’t tell what’s wrong with it,” I said, sitting back on my heels. “It’s an old model. It might need replacing all together.”
“Fantastic.” Kit exhaled, her grip on the blanket tightening. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” she muttered. “I barely slept. The cottage is freezing, and I think it would be better to grab an early bus home.”
I grimaced. “There isn’t another until after Boxing Day.”
She closed her eyes, her frustration clear across her features. “Well, fuck.”
“If you were looking for isolation, you’ve found it.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
“I heard all the local B&Bs are closed or full,” I said, recalling some information I’d heard at the pub. “I could take you to a hotel further away, except the roads are still treacherous from the snow last night.”
Her eyes went wide, the panic increasing. “I cannot stay here; I will die.”
“You could use the fireplace, but that won’t help you when it comes to the water,” I said, packing the rest of my tools up. “And honestly, sorry if this is too much of a judgement call, but you do not look like the kind of person who can light a fire.”
Her brows pressed together. “Why, because I’m blonde?”
I cracked a weak smile, remembering the outfit she was wearing last night. Completely impractical for this weather, like she was closer to walking up a runway than the small high street. “No, more the high-heeled boots and fur coat.”
“That’s fair.” She shrugged, as though resigned to the fate that her holiday was a catastrophe. “I should leave. I’ll charter a helicopter. Learn to ride a horse. Anything. Just get me back to London.”
