Page 125 of Wish You Were Mine

I pulled the hood of my jacket back up.

“Where are you going?” Summer asked.

“Just to the woodshed.”

She shuffled forward and tossed her wad of napkins into the basket by the fire. “But there’s already wood by the fire.”

“That’s not what I need.”

Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. She’d been listening to our conversation and must have realized where my mind had gone.

“Be careful,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye on you through the back window.”

“Thanks.”

I braced myself for the cold and slipped out through the door. The icy wind slapped at the bare skin of my face, and I had to lean forward with my full weight to get around the building to the shed. The trees nearby swayed dangerously, and I prayed that the clearing was big enough for none of them to damage the building if they fell.

A shrill whistling made my ears ache, and I gritted my teeth. Another few steps, and I was at the shed. I didn’t bother gathering any wood. There was enough inside to last for hours, and I didn’t want to juggle any more weight than needed.

I peered through damp eyelashes until, finally, my vision focused on an axe leaning against the interior wall. I reached inside and took hold of the handle. The wood was cold and rough against my skin. There didn’t seem to be a second axe, so I turned and dragged it back to the cabin, moving faster this time, the wind behind me.

Just outside the door, a broom rested against the exterior, having miraculously not blown away. I unscrewed the head of the broom and dropped it, then took the shaft inside with me. It wouldn’t be as good a weapon as an axe, but it would at least provide some means of self-defense if needed.

I stumbled forward as the wind released its grip on me but managed not to trip over the broom handle or the axe. I held them up so Summer could see.

“Just in case,” I said.

She nodded and didn’t question me. I knelt and undid my shoelaces, then peeled off wet socks. My toes were freezing, but hopefully someone would be here soon to get us. I could cover myself with a blanket, or perhaps share one with Summer. Having bare feet had to be better than leaving them in wet socks.

Summer removed her shoes too, and once she was done, and we’d both shed our jackets, I sat beside her and held her close.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I murmured against her hair.

“Why?” She angled her face toward me. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I think it is. Whoever did this, it was to get at me. That makes it my fault.”

She sighed and rested her cheek on my shoulder. “Well then, all I have to say is that I’d rather be here with you than out there with someone else.”

I chuckled and held her more tightly. She shifted around and burrowed her frozen toes into the gap between my waistband and the bottom of my shirt.

I hissed. “Evil.”

She smirked, unrepentant. I pressed my palms against the tops of her feet, doing my best to warm them. Bit by bit, blood flow returned. When her toes were no longer icicles, she maneuvered us around so that my toes were against her belly. She rubbed them vigorously.

The radio made a staticky sound.

I frowned. “What do you think that was?”

It happened again.

“Ash? Summer?” It was Connor.

I removed my feet from Summer’s belly and swung them to the floor, then crossed to the kitchen counter to answer. “Yeah?”

“We have a problem. The tree that trapped you in wasn’t the only one to come down. The road out to you is fully blocked, and I’m not willing to send people out to attempt to clear the fallen trees in this weather.”

I thought quickly. “How close can you get?”

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