Page 36 of Risk It All
She wandered farther in, checking things out more thoroughly as he moved from window to window, closing all the blinds. When she realized what he was doing, she moved back toward the light switches. “Should we keep the lights off so Abbott’s people don’t spot the cabin?” she asked.
“No.” He climbed the spiral stairs to the loft. “Even if they’re out in this storm, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll track us here, and the blizzard’s only getting worse. I’m just taking precautions.” As he disappeared into the loft, she resumed her exploration of the cabin, reassured.
Everything she saw made her relieved that they’d stumbled upon this particular place. It looked like a seldom-used vacation cabin, a much safer shelter than the messy, explosives-rigged, Unabomber-occupied shack her imagination had conjured up. When Kavenski came back down the stairs, she picked up their earlier conversation. “That was an unfair lock-picking comparison, by the way. My hands were shaking. I even beat my sister Charlie’s best time, and she’s fast. I bet I could make your skills look like a first-grader’s.”
His eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “My skills would blow yours out of the water.”
“That’s it. We’re having a pick-off as soon as we get back to Langston.” Cara realized that she’d been so distracted by the cabin and their light banter that she’d been talking as if they’d continue to be friends after they made it off the mountain. The reality was that he wouldn’t be able to settle into a relaxing life after this. Even if he hadn’t killed those people—and she believed him when he said he didn’t—he’d still been arrested for murder and skipped bail. Until that was dealt with, he’d always be on the run.
“You’re on.” Kavenski sounded like he’d forgotten his complicated situation, too. Before Cara could say anything about it, she spotted a door next to the spiral stairs leading up to the loft. Excitement filled her as she hurried over to it, her sleeve-boots sliding a little on the polished wooden floor.
“Is this a bathroom?” Yanking open the door, she felt for the light switch and flicked it on. A huge smile spread across her face at the sight, and she hopped a little. She would never have thought that a simple bathroom would make her so happy. “It’s heaven with a toilet,” she said, stepping inside. Her happiness waned a little when she saw that there wasn’t any water in the bowl. Fate couldn’t be cruel enough to offer a bathroom with no running water, could it?
Moving back into the main room, she found Kavenski stacking some small logs into the woodstove.
“There’s no water,” she said mournfully, shuffling over to where he was crouched. “Could I use your knife?”
His eyebrows shot up as he glanced at her. “For what?”
“To take my fake boots off.” She took the folded knife he’d dug out of his pocket and held out toward her. “What did you think I wanted to do with it?”
“Wasn’t sure how you were going to fix the lack of water with my knife.” He turned back to his perfectly arranged pyramid of wood and lit the fire starter tucked at the base.
Plopping down on the end of the couch closest to the woodstove, Cara cut the zip ties securing the sleeves to her lower legs. She marveled at the ease of cutting through the strips of plastic when it had been such a struggle to free herself just hours before. Her chilled fingers tingled as they came back to life, but her feet were hot from all the walking she’d done. A pulse thumped intermittently in her soles, and she grimaced at the soreness.
“Is there a way to turn the water on?” she asked, sliding the sleeves off her feet.
“Should be.” Kavenski straightened to his full height, looming over her. “I’ll go look.”
He crossed the room and disappeared through a door next to the stairs as Cara watched the tiny fire grow, licking at the larger logs and leaving trails of soot on the bark. The flames were mesmerizing, and she stared at them for several minutes. Sitting down made her realize how bone-deep her exhaustion went.
The sound from the other room made her start, pulling her out of her stupor. She glanced toward the door Kavenski had gone through, hoping he’d succeeded in turning something on, something that would lead to being able to flush the toilet and take a shower.
It took some effort to push herself to her feet, but she finally managed. Since Kavenski had started a fire and was likely well on his way to getting the plumbing to work, she thought she should contribute something toward their survival. She’d never been a fan of camping. Charlie had dragged her out to the woods to sleep in a tent many times while they were growing up. Even as a kid, Cara never saw the fun in sleeping on the hard, cold ground, not showering, and peeing out in the open when there were beds and bathrooms readily available.
Now, she felt her lack of outdoorsy skills. If Kavenski hadn’t been there, she would probably already be dead of exposure…or from falling off a cliff.
Shaking off the sudden rush of inferiority, she tried to focus on what she could do. Her gaze moved around the cabin and settled on the row of kitchen cabinets.
Food, she thought.We need food.As if in agreement, her stomach rumbled and squeezed in on itself, letting her know exactly how hungry she was. Crossing her fingers that the cabin contained something edible, she walked to the kitchen on tender stocking feet. Away from the immediate vicinity of the woodstove, the floor was cold, but it actually felt good on her soles.
Even though she was pretty sure it would be empty, she checked the fridge first. The darkened interior held a lone box of baking soda. The freezer was equally unlit and empty except for a pair of ice-cube trays. The first cupboard she opened revealed stacked plates, and the second held glasses and mugs. On the third, she hit pay dirt.
“Score,” she said under her breath, scanning the labels of the stacked cans of food. Pulling out some soup, she looked over her shoulder as Kavenski returned to the main room. “Did you get the water turned back on?”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a way she was starting to recognize as warm amusement. “Yeah. Well pump’s on.”
“I love indoor plumbing.” Cara bounced a little on the balls of her feet, but their soreness made her stop. “And I found food, so we’re golden.”
She started rummaging through drawers, searching for a can opener and trying very hard not to think about her desperate hunt for a knife at the other cabin. Despite her attempt to convince herself that it wasn’t at all the same, she was hugely relieved when her fingers closed on the metal handles of an opener.
As she straightened, she felt heat behind her, as though her back was to a furnace, and she went still. Reaching around her, Kavenski turned on the sink faucet. Even the miraculous trickle of water that turned into a steady flow wasn’t enough to distract her from his proximity. Despite the warmth he was radiating, a shiver trembled up her spine. With his chest right behind her and his arm stretched along her right side, she felt surrounded…but not in a claustrophobic way. His big form seemed to be curled around hers, as if he were keeping her safe, blocking any threats with his own body. Maybe it was because she’d been kidnapped, drugged, and almost died several times over the last eighteen hours, but she was craving the feeling of protection he was unintentionally providing.
Breathe, dummy, Cara scolded herself, but having him so close seemed to have short-circuited her brain.It’s not like he’s doing this on purpose, after all. He can’t help it that the kitchen is small and he’s so incredibly big.
As if to prove the practical side of her brain right, he seemed oblivious to both their intimate position and her extreme reaction to his closeness. Giving a grunt of satisfaction, he turned off the water and moved away. She couldn’t stop herself from watching as he walked to the bathroom. Only when he went inside and out of her line of sight did she exhale all the air in her lungs in a heavy rush.
Suddenly, waiting out the storm in a small cabin with Kavenski seemed like a really dumb idea.
