Page 44 of Hold Your Breath
“Never mind.” She slid off the bed and shuffled toward the bathroom. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then we can go.”
At his disbelieving snort, she stopped and scowled at him. “What?”
“You’re really going to be ready in fifteen minutes?”
“Fourteen and a half, now.” She slammed the bathroom door behind her before shouting, “And make yourself useful in the meantime and cook breakfast!”
* * *
She’d been kidding—well, kind of kidding—when she’d hollered at him to cook, but there was a definite smell of bacon in the cabin when she emerged from the bathroom twelve minutes later, smug about her speediness. After she threw on some warm and not-too-smelly clothes, she followed her nose to the kitchen, where Callum was indeed slaving over a hot stove. Leaning against the wall, she enjoyed the view of him standing at the stove, his sleeves pushed up to reveal his muscled forearms, lining up the strips of bacon into perfect formation.
“You know,” she teased, “you could have your own calendar. You’d only be wearing an apron in this shot. Although that’s kind of asking for spitting bacon-grease burns, isn’t it?”
He flushed, and she realized she was getting pretty proficient at making him turn red. “Did you want breakfast or not?” he grumbled, forking the bacon onto a paper-towel-lined plate.
“Yes.” She reached over to steal a piece, but he smacked her hand before she could reach her prize. “Ow. Did you happen to notice my twelve-minute prep time?”
“Wait for the eggs. And yes, very impressive.”
“You’re making eggs, too? I might just keep you.”
Although he was trying to hide it, a smile was fighting to break free. “You’re on toast duty.”
Lou glanced at the digital display showing the charge left in her batteries. “If you want me to use the toaster, I’m going to have to turn on the generator. The sun’s not high enough yet to produce much power. That’s what happens when you get up at the crack of dawn.”
He just gave her a look. “We don’t have to have toast.”
“No, it’s okay.” Heading for the front door, she said over her shoulder, “If you made bacon and eggs, the least I can do is make toast.”
Throwing on her boots but skipping the coat, she ran outside to the small shed that housed her generator. She opened the valve that allowed propane to the generator and reached for the start switch. A strange hissing sound and the strong smell of propane made her hesitate. Instead of turning on the generator, she pulled her hand back and closed the valve.
Trotting back to the cabin, she made a face. There always had to be something going wrong. Why couldn’t she just eat bacon with Callum in peace?
Inside, she nudged her temporary chef aside to grab a spray bottle from under the sink.
“What’s up?” he asked, turning off the burner, immediately slipping into calm and competent mode. It was like he could smell the start of a potential crisis.
“Propane leak,” she said, squirting some dish soap into the bottle and filling it the rest of the way with water. She grabbed her coat on the way out this time. Callum followed her silently. As they crossed the yard, the only sound was the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Although she had on her brave face, Lou couldn’t help glancing around at the surrounding trees. Everything was still and quiet, without even a breeze or the chatter of a squirrel. It felt like the forest was holding its breath, watching.
“Leave the door open, would you?” she asked as they both entered the shed. “There’s no other light in here.”
After she opened the valve again, she sprayed the soapy water in a stream where the propane line connected to the generator. When no bubbles formed, she frowned.
“Am I crazy, or do I hear and smell a leak?”
“You’re not crazy.” Taking the bottle from her, Callum began spraying the length of the propane line. At about the midpoint, large bubbles formed, and Lou closed the valve.
“This was cut.” Callum’s voice was grim as he examined the slice in the line.
Leaning her chin on his shoulder so she could see the hole as well, she growled, “That’s it. My tires and front door are one thing, but you don’t mess with someone’s toast!”
“This isn’t funny, Lou.”
“I know.” She sighed, standing. “It’s scary and dangerous and becoming really expensive. Joking in the face of adversity is just what I do.”
There was a loud bang, and everything went dark. With a yelp, Lou grabbed Callum’s arm, needing something to hang on to in the sudden blackness. There was no one in here with them—sheknewthat. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel a hot breath against the back of her neck…couldn’t help but imagine hands reaching for her in the dark.
“It’s okay,” she reassured herself more than Callum. “The door just blew shut.”
