“We might as well have gone swimming.”
“The lake water is probably warmer than the rain. At least we’re safe.” He glanced at her arms. “You’re cold. Maybe there’s firewood inside.”
“If we can even get in.”
He tried the door and found it unlocked. It gave an ancient groan as he swung it open. They entered to the smell of must and age and the cacophony of rain on the metal roof. Light from the lone window parted the gloom. The only furnishings were a rustic table with two chairs, a wooden bunk, and a fieldstone fireplace.
“Hallelujah,” he said.
She spotted the stack of wood just as he did, her gaze homing in on an old pack of matches. “And a fire source too.”
“Thank God. It’s been a long time since I’ve tested my Boy Scout skills.”
A smile lifted her lips at the thought of him as a boy earning his badges. “I’ll bet you were a good one.”
“An Eagle Scout, as a matter of fact.” He leaned into the firebox. “Let’s hope there’s not a nest in the flue.”
At the mention of critters she scanned the room, relieved to find no evidence of rodents. “How will we know?”
“The place will fill with smoke.”
He looked up the chimney. “Great. Maybe we’ll be subjected to all the elements today.”
“I see daylight. That’s good news.” He started stacking the logs.
She spotted an empty cardboard box in the corner and tore it into pieces.
“Good thinking.” He lit one of the sections and held it inside the fireplace. “Great news, the smoke’s going up.”
She handed him the rest of the cardboard. “Since you’re the Boy Scout.”
“The logs are pine and they’re good and dry, so they should light easily.” He stuffed the cardboard under the wood and lit them with a match. Moments later the pile caught fire. “Shouldn’t take long to warm this place up.”
They kicked off their shoes and set them on the low hearth. Thankfully, their socks were still dry.
Lauren glanced around, rubbing her chilled arms. “Who owns this place anyway?”
“It’s state property, mostly just set aside to preserve nature. Otherwise, we humans tend to put up buildings on every square inch.”
She walked to the gridded window. Outside the trees shimmied under the wind and rain pelted the ground. The sky was a gray abyss. “How long do you think the storm will last?”
“No idea.” He pulled out his phone, and a moment later he frowned. “No reception.”
She checked hers. “Me either.” No surprise. “Everyone has checked in for the weekend except one couple coming from Maine.”
“What’s the name?”
“George and Alice Chaney.”
“Ah, the Chaneys. They’re regulars. They’ll just head straight to their cabin when they arrive.” Since they kept the cabins unlocked, that’s what all the regulars did.
“Still, I wish we could get ahold of Meg.”
“The guests will be fine. Anyway, I’m sure the storm will clear up soon.”
She hoped he was right. The fire was burning strong now, crackling and popping.
“Too bad we don’t have dry clothes. I’m soaked to the skin.”
