“But we can surely make it through the night here,” I said. “Better inside these walls than out. Let’s just see if there’s something we can use to cover Mr. Trapper over there, and you’ll forget all about him in no time.”
“You sound just like Fox.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You keep sounding like him!” he argued.
“I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll stop when we get a fire going.”
“You mean whenIget a fire going with my manly hands.”
“Terrific idea,” I said sarcastically. “Wish I’d thought of it.”
“If I survive this night, know that I may strangle you in the morning.”
“With your manly hands?”
Grumbling to himself, Huck investigated the chimney flue and managed to get a fire started with the help of some dry kindling in a bucket. Meanwhile, I poked around the cabin and found a dusty newspaper by the bed.
“December 3, 1901,” I read to Huck. “Do you think the trapper’s been dead in here that long? Thirty-six years?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Not looking at him or his witchy animal skulls. Trying to preserve my sanity, aren’t I?” He’d found a broom and was sweeping a clean spot for us in front of the hearth, to which he gestured now. “You’re supposed to be impressed by this. Me big man, make big fire.”
I laid sheets of the newspaper over the cot. “Me little woman, cover up skeleton so big man doesn’t get scared.”
“Hey, I’m already scared, so the joke’s on you.”
“If the ghost of Mr. Trapper decides to make an appearance, you can hide behind me.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Remember that autumn in Hudson Valley when they did that haunted maze downtown? I think you were eleven? You were so scared of the vampire jumping out of the coffin, Fox had to carry you back outside.”
“How could I forget? You laughed so hard, you slipped in that mud puddle when we were walking back to the car.”
“Oof !Forgot about that. Must have blocked it out,” Huck said, the corners of his mouth twisting up. “All I’m saying is how could a girl afraid of Mr. Kowalski dressed in a bad vampire costume grow up into a girl who delights in taking photographs of skeletons and ghosts?”
“When life gives you ghosts, make ghost lemonade?”
He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Leave the proverbs to the experts, yeah? And get over here before you freeze to death and I’m trapped here with two bodies.”
I shuffled across the room to join him, and we both sat in front of the stone fireplace, leaning back against our luggage. The fire was a little smoky, but it felt fantastic.
“Christ, banshee. You’re shaking like a leaf,” he said, huddling next to me. “Take off your boots. They’ll dry faster closer to the flames.”
I untied the laces with a groan. “Everything hurts.”
“Me too.” He waited for me to hand him my brown boots and set them closer to the fire. Now that we had light and heat, it was easier to see that we were both a little banged up from our downhill tumble.
“Your trousers are torn,” I said, looking at his knee.
“And your face looks as if it lost a boxing match,” he said, pushing my hair away from my face to inspect it. When he touched my swollen cheek, I winced. “Yep, that eye is going to be black tomorrow. Been there myself. Won’t be pleasant.”
Yes, I remembered too well. His eye was black when he came to my bedroom that final night at Foxhill last year. Maybe he was remembering it too, because he released me suddenly and stared at the fire, sniffling. Was he thinking about everything we’d said to each other in the woods before the wolves showed up? I was. And I was wondering how I could feel so close to him in that moment, yet so awkward now.
So awkward. So quiet. Too quiet.
“Maybe we can find a way to civilization now,” I suggested, trying to thaw the chill between us.
“Yeah, good idea,” Huck mumbled. He pulled out the train brochures and found the one that had a regional map of the nearby city of Cluj and our current location on the outskirts of the town, the haunted Hoia Forest. He was right: the map was made for tourists, but the dead clearing where Huck had landed the plane was marked, and so was the river outside this cabin—it looked to be a tributary of a larger river.
