“The stew is about ready,” I say, trying not to let my gaze linger too long on him. A slow simmering attraction bubbles within me, much like the stew on the stove—warming me from the inside out and making this cold winter night seem a lot less daunting.
Matt stomps his boots vigorously on the porch, shaking off the stubborn snow clinging to them before he steps inside. He pauses at the door, slipping off his coat and hanging it neatly on a hook by the frame. His gaze sweeps across the cozy interior of the lodge, and I can see his surprise. Pride surges through me. It's Finn's place, but as a Hollister, I know that whatever we do reflects on the entire family. That's why I feel so awful about my shortcomings. A win for one is a win for all, and the opposite is true when we fail.
“Where's Hailey?” he asks, glancing around as if expecting to see my niece pop out from behind a corner.
“Kane picked her up a little bit ago,” I explain as we make our way to the kitchen. “The storm's coming in fast.”
He glances out the window, his expression unreadable as the snow whips harder against the glass.
“Nothing to worry about,” I add, noticing the tension in his shoulders. “We get storms like this all the time. I've got plenty of supplies and a reliable generator. We'll be fine.”
At least, I hope we will. Even as the words leave my mouth, a flicker of doubt nags at the back of my mind. But I can't let him see that—not when I’m the one who has to hold things together.
Matt doesn't look reassured, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he offers to help with dinner, and soon we're working side by side in silence. I steal glances at him—the way his brow furrows in concentration as he stirs the stew, the flex of hismuscles as he reaches for bowls in the high cabinet. There's something comforting about having someone else in the kitchen with me, even if it's a virtual stranger.
“Oh, could you grab the salad from the fridge?” I ask, remembering Hailey's contribution from earlier. “My niece helped make it.”
Matt retrieves the bowl of torn lettuce. The corners of his mouth twitch as he looks at the uneven pieces, and affection blooms in my chest at his unspoken appreciation of Hailey's efforts. It's a subtle gesture, yet it reveals so much about his character.
As we settle ourselves for a meal at the little table in the kitchen, the storm outside gains momentum, and an eerie whistling weaves around the lodge's overhangs. A few flakes turn into a whiteout in no time as the wind whips around the building. Matt's body stiffens, his fingers turning ghostly pale as they clutch his spoon. Through the window, the world is a blizzard in full force. I squint, thinking I see a branch—or perhaps I imagined it—being swept past the glass.
“So,” I say, desperate to distract him from the storm and the tension I can see building in his frame, “tell me about yourself, Matt. What do you do when you're not visiting remote Alaskan lodges?”
He gives a short, humorless laugh. “Lately? Not a lot. I was...” He pauses, swallowing hard. “I was working on an oil rig. Before.”
The unacknowledged trauma lingers heavy in the air between us. I feel the urge to reach out, to offer comfort, but something holds me back. Maybe it’s the thought that he’s Finn’s best friend, or perhaps it’s the fear of being too forward since we only recently met. Instead, I say, “And now?”
Matt shrugs, his eyes locked on his bowl. “I landed here. Guess I'm trying to figure things out.” His words remind me of my own struggles, my uncertainty about my future.
“Ah, aren't we all?” I reply, attempting to sound upbeat despite the serious talk. “You've found the right place then. There's something special about it. It has a way of helping people find their path.”
Matt looks up then, meeting my eyes. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver through me, a feeling that has nothing to do with the wind outside. “Is that why you're here?” he whispers, his voice as smooth as worn leather.
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get the words out, a loud crack splits the air, followed by an ominous creaking sound. Matt is on his feet in an instant, his body tense, eyes wild.
“It's okay,” I say, trying to project a calm I don't feel. “Probably a tree branch?—”
My words are cut off by a deafening crash as something huge slams into the roof of the lodge. The building shudders. The lights flicker once, twice, and then we're plunged into complete darkness. Fear grips me as I let out a scream. My heart races, and I instinctively reach out, my hand finding Matt's arm in the darkness.
All I can hear is the storm and our ragged breathing. Then Matt's voice, low and urgent: “Eliza? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” I respond, my mind already shifting into crisis mode. “First things first. We need light.”
I move swiftly in the darkness, muscle memory guiding me to the drawer with the emergency flashlight. I find it at the back and click it on. A beam of light cuts through the darkness. I aim it, trying not to blind Matt, but the harsh glow still reveals the concern etched on his face. Poor guy, he had come here hoping for some peace, and he gets this.
“What now?” he asks, his voice uncertain.
For a moment, fear grips me, threatening to paralyze my thoughts. This situation is way beyond anything I expected. If Kane or Rhys were here, they'd jump into action without a second thought, knowing what to do.
But that's the point, isn't it? I've always relied on them to handle things. This is my opportunity to prove I can stand on my own.
I steady myself. I can do this. I have to. Gathering my resolve, I force myself to stay calm. “First, let’s check the damage,” I say. “We'll stick together. Follow me to the utility room. We’ll start with the circuit breaker and go from there.”
Matt meets my gaze, his eyes steady and reassuring. “Got it. Lead the way.”
“Matt,” I say, turning the flashlight so it illuminates both our faces, “I know this isn't what you were looking for, and I'm sorry for that. But if it's not too much for you, I could use your help. Can you handle that?”
In the dim light, I see his expression shift. His jaw sets, and he tilts his head. “I'm with you,” he says.
