Page 69 of Out of the Cold

Chapter Twelve

Light filtered throughthe curtains the next morning as Lucy stretched herself awake. Which was strange, because normally Hilde woke her up by six-thirty to go to the bathroom. Then the aroma of coffee reached her, and it all made sense.

Rising up on an elbow, she tried her bedside lamp.

The electricity was still out. It was a huge pain, but she couldn’t help smiling at the knowledge that Gabriel would stay a little longer.

It had taken her ages to fall asleep. She was too aware of Gabriel in the house, and then, as the silence settled around her, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ricky dying under the snow, and Gabriel trying to save him in his dreams. It was all so awful. How did a person go on after such a loss?

She’d never been through anything like that. Losing someone you loved was hard enough without throwing guilt into the mix, and Gabriel hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d simply flown Ricky out to ski, knowing he’d love it. Ricky had made the fatal error.

Now here Gabriel was, secluding himself up on a mountain with no one around to comfort him, no one who loved him. He was punishing himself for no reason, and it broke her heart.

But at least now she understood him better. She could only hope he didn’t regret telling her about Ricky. They’d reached a turning point, but what came after she couldn’t guess.

When she opened the curtains, the snow was still blowing horizontally, possibly even harder than the night before. Giddy with nerves, she pulled on her robe and slippers and entered the living room. Light poured in, and the warmth of the stove enveloped her.

Gabriel stood behind the kitchen counter, a mug in his hand. “Morning. Can I interest you in some coffee?”

“Yes, please. It smells wonderful.”

“It’s the same coffee you’ve been using, but I found a French press.”

“It smells better when someone else makes it.”

His laugh was warm and crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Maybe it’ll taste better, too.” He poured it into her favorite mug and set it on the counter along with the sugar and cream.

“I don’t usually sleep this late. Did Hilde bother you this morning?”

“I was already up. She came with me to refuel the generators.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She sat down at the table, the mug warm and comforting in her hands.

This whole scene was so natural in a strange way. So domestic, when until now Gabriel had seemed like a slightly feral animal, always ready to bolt.

His hair was mussed, his flannel shirt open at the neck and showing his strong throat. But the biggest difference was in his eyes. They were warm instead of wary, and they rested on her like they appreciated what they saw.

“I could whip up some scrambled eggs if you like.”

“What? No.” She stood up. “You’re my guest. I’ll feed you.”

“I’ll do it,” he said, waving her back into her seat. “You enjoy your coffee.” He opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, milk, and bread.

She hesitated, not sure if she should allow it. But what was she going to do, push him aside and take over? That was silly.

She sat back down. The view was pretty nice from here.

He cracked the eggs into a bowl, added milk, and began whisking. “I’ll get out of your hair after we eat.”

“You’re not in my hair.”

“At the moment.” He smiled and ducked down to grab a pan from one of the lower cabinets. “I’ll come back tonight whenever you like.”

He poured the eggs into the pan and patiently stirred them while sipping his coffee.

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