Page 1 of Cabin Fever

ONE

Olivia

"THERE IT IS AGAIN." I pushed my back against the solid and, hopefully, blood-thirsty-animal-proof front door. Despite the thunderous thumping of my heart, I kept my ears perked until I heard a click.

Never had I believed the clank of a doorknob snapping into the frame would sound delicious, calming, and triumphant all at the same time. If I could make out—using tongue, of course—with this door, I would. But there'd be splinters and that wouldn't be fun.

I wasn't what most people would call gutsy. My usual response was to run. If running wasn't an option, then find something to throw. I once encountered a spider. The nearest thing to me was a book of matches. I contemplated burning down the house, but my sister stopped me before the matches were in my hand. That bathroom had been dead to me ever since.

The wild, guttural cries that drove me to hobble with surprising speed into the cabin started back up. They sounded muffled now, farther away.

"Good door." I patted the wood, then attempted to hug the entrance in appreciation.

The air was crisp, despite having a roof over my head. My breath was a lingering fog as I exhaled with relief.

Don't people use heat here in the mountains?

Allowing my legs to give, I slid down the door. For the first time in hours, I sat. My knees creaked, and I winced from a shooting pain in my left leg but sitting my butt on the mud-stained wooden floor felt glorious.

Olivia Jane Holiday Love, you are safe.

I reveled in letting my limbs throb from spending a good part of the day trekking through a mountain. Looks like I won't need to exercise again for at least a decade.

Steam rose from the grimy lace that covered my chest as I tugged at the large pink parka I grabbed before racing out of The Lodge this morning. I rubbed the delicate fabric and gasped. "It's gone."

My engagement ring. Hot tears laid a trail down my cheeks as I remembered yanking at the ring in anger and leaving it right next to my purse. I had no money, no cell phone, and no fiancé.

It was all my fault.

"Damn it. What have I done?"

I knew exactly what I had done. There was no lying to myself. I had destroyed my life, possibly ruined my family's lives, and opened a hornets' nest of chaos so big I'd probably become a legend back in DC—and not the good type of legend, either. No. My tale would spread with hushed tones, secretive whispers, and wide eyes.

Did I have a choice? Yes. But I didn't have to run.

I wiped at my tears of shame and anger. My fingers covered in a filthy wetness. Laughter bubbled up from my throat. "Did you really believe Derrick loved you, Olivia? Like attracts like, as my father always said. Derrick was handsome. More than handsome . . . he looked like a runway model."

I hiccupped and lifted two fingers in the air. "And number two. Wait. Was I counting?" I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. Number two. Derrick was smart." My dad told me how he worked his way up from the mailroom to be distribution manager of my father's company, Love Foods.

"That brings me to number three," I lifted my middle finger, "everyone loved Derrick." Well, everyone but my sister, Bea. "He's the life of the party and the friend who would be there when you needed him."

I once saw him cradle a squirrel in his palm. It was in shock from almost being run over. Then with gentle ease, Derrick placed the creature on the grass.

"He's a freaking animal savior for God's sake! How did I react to animals? I ran screaming and hid in some stranger's home. Only to plop my dirty butt on their floor and start a conversation with myself.

"And last, but never least, Olivia, you have a unique ability to pick men that use you and never really love you. Some may call this ability a superpower if superpowers were abominable."

I let out a sigh and wallowed in the mess of my own creation for a moment. Then I looked up and faced the fact that I was in someone else's home.

"Hello?"

With a wince and a breath, I stood from the floor. With a quick scan of the sparsely furnished room, I did my best to brush the dirt from my white gown and brightly colored coat.

I took a step farther into the room. It smelled of pine, a spicy lavender scent, and a hint of smoke.

"Mental note, think of going into the fragrance industry. I will call my first scent Cabin Fever."

That was a good idea. Perhaps there's some stationery and a pen somewhere so I could jot the idea down.

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