Page 45 of Love Under Snowfall

“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because someone clearly lives here.”

Francesca shook her head, laughing. “I appreciate the morality, but it’s totally allowed in this scenario. In the early 1900s the U.S. Forest Service offered up thousands of cabins for people to buy and live in. Some are used as rentals, some are seasonal homes. My assumption is this is only accessible in the warmer months when the risk of being snowed in is minimal, but they leave food stores behind and the doors unlocked in case some needy traveler comes by.”

“Are you feeding me a story to satisfy my sense of integrity?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You’re just going to have to trust me.” She stood and lifted the bucket.

“Let me help.” Benjamin shot up and took it from her.

Francesca snagged two jugs, both of which were frozen solid, and lugged them over to thaw beside the stove. “For now, we can make some rice and beans with the leftover water in our water bottles. There should be enough in them.”

While she set to work, Benjamin surveyed the rest of the cabin. Two large wooden chairs with cushioned seats and backs faced the fireplace. A small table sat between them, large enough to share a meager meal. The small set of cabinets where they’d found the food stood just behind the chairs. Opposite the front door were two interior doors. He cracked one open and found a small bedroom with a double bed, side table, and window. An old woven rug covered most of the scuffed hardwood floor. He left the door open to allow the warm air to circulate.

Through the other door, he found what looked to be a tiled closet with a drain in the middle of the floor. A thick metal hookhung from the ceiling. He tried to make out what the room could be but came up blank.

“It’s a kill room.”

“Aaahh!” The shriek popped out of his mouth as he whirled around. He hadn’t heard Francesca approach. How had she moved so quietly? He looked down and noticed she’d taken off her bib overalls and boots. What remained were a snug pair of black leggings and her cream thermal shirt. Honey waves tumbled wildly about her now that they’d been freed from her haphazard braids. Sweat dripped down his back as he took in the cozy sight of her. Mouth dry, he swallowed a few times to search for words.

What had she said?

“Wait? Awhatroom?” Benjamin’s eyes widened and then promptly narrowed as she bent over at the waist, laughing so hard she had to brace her hands on her knees. “Cute.”

Her mischievous grin sucked all the oxygen from the room and pummeled his chest with heat. Suddenly, he needed all unnecessary layers removed or he’d sweat to death. He unzipped his coat and toed off his boots. She hadn’t exaggerated; that stove had quickly filled the room with delicious dry heat. He stubbornly assured himself that was the cause of his flush, not her smile.

“Best guess, it’s a shower.” She pushed past him and surveyed the little closet. “That’s where you hang the solar shower once it’s warm and the water goes down the drain. Pretty genius when you don’t want to strip out in the woods.”

Flashes of the two of them squeezed into the tiny space flooded Benjamin’s mind. He imagined washing the sweat from her body then carrying her naked and dripping across the hall. He shook his head to dislodge the problematic thoughts.

“There’s one bedroom,” he muttered.

“Oh?”

“It’s yours. I wouldn’t dream of invading your space likethat.” Best to set the boundaries now before the sun set and exhaustion muddled their decision-making.

Was that disappointment scrolling across her face?

“Sounds good.” She nibbled her lip, crossing her arms across her chest. “You should put your wet layers by the stove to dry. Food will be ready in half an hour.”

Chapter twenty-four

Frankie

Frankie prepared a basic dinner of rice and beans while Benjamin made his best effort to give her space. He’d explored every inch of the cabin, even finding the solar shower in a chest in the little bedroom, along with a few card games and extra quilts and sheets. Then he took his investigation outside. Upon his return, he was happy to report that one of the outbuildings was a pit toilet, and the other was a woodshed stuffed full of dry, split wood.

Frankie was grateful for the armload of firewood he stacked beside the stove, but it was the outhouse that had her full bladder breathing a sign of relief. She practically leapt into her snow gear and sprinted to the little building. A few minutes later, she was back, tending to dinner once more.

Making it to this cabin—especially one so well stocked and cared for—was a literal lifesaver, and she couldn’t be more grateful to whoever loved and cared for this little home away from home. It had everything they needed. Food, drinking water, stove, a bed.

It’s yours. I wouldn’t dream of invading your space like that.

Except that he already had. Three times now.

First, at the welcome dinner in Leavenworth, he hovered within arm’s reach, peering over her shoulder to snoop on her texts and teasing her about them.

Then, when he kissed her on the trail while they argued. She’d been royally pissed that he’d distracted her enough to throwher off course. It made her feel like such a rookie.

---