Page 31 of His One True Wish

“Fancy,” she said. “You like nice things.”

“Maybe I do,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my tough-guy image.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She sat down, elbows on the kitchen table. “So do you think you can dig me out later, even with this cold?”

I breathed in through gritted teeth as I turned up the gas under the moka pot. “You want me to lie to you?”

“No, I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“Okay then. There is no way you are getting out of this drive today. I don’t think we’re leaving this cabin.”

“Earlier, you said it wasn’t that bad and we just needed to wait for the snow to stop and the temperature to go up.”

“Both those things are true, and maybe they happen today.”

“Or maybe tomorrow?”

“I can’t predict the weather, not in these mountains.”

“Well, if the snow stops, we will just have to start digging.” She walked to the kitchen window and pushed the curtains aside. The window was slick with condensation. She rubbed it off. “You know, I remember one winter, Gran, Mom, and I were here, and we got stuck for a day, but then the snow melted. Mason came over with the boysfor dinner. They were in grade school then. It was a long time ago.” She stood on her toes and seemed to be eyeing the outdoor thermometer.

“I can tell you right now,” I said, turning off the gas as the moka pot bubbled. I took down two mugs and filled them each with dark espresso. “Those clouds out there are not done, and even if I could get you out of the drive, there is no way you are getting down the mountain. You need the temperature to go up about fifteen degrees.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I am sure the snowplows are up and running.”

“They are,” I said, leaning back on the counter, holding my mug, “on the highway, but the logging road won’t be clear today. There is no way.”

She exhaled, sending the hair on her forehead billowing. “I forgot about the logging road.”

I walked to the fridge and took out half-and-half, placing it on the kitchen table.

“So, I’m stuck for today. We are both stuck,” she said, pouring creamy clouds into her coffee.

“Stuck for today,” I said, taking the cream and topping off my coffee, as well. I took a sip. It was delicious. “And my phone has no signal.”

A gust of wind shook the windows as snow pelted the glass.

“I’m stuck here,” she said, sinking back into her seat. “I’m stuck here, and we can’t call anyone.”

“I’m afraid not.” I sat down across from her and trilled my fingertips on the wood, knowing that I didn’t have any good answers.

“So, what do we do?” she said. “I’m not used to asking that question. Normally, I know what to do.”

“How about we eat breakfast?”

“Eat.” She looked pained. “I don’t know if I can eat, and I feel bad eating your food. I didn’t know you were here, and you weren’t expecting me.”

“All true, but you should eat. Good to keep your energy up.”

“Why? Do you think we’re going to be stuck here for days?” Her eyes widened with panic.

“No,” I said, laughing. “You should eat because I’m a great cook.”

“You want me to eat a good breakfast,” she said. “That is your top priority.”

“Yeah.” I stood up and opened the fridge, pulling out sausages, eggs, peppers, and cheese. The light was off, but the food was still cold. If I needed to, I could put items on the porch. “I happen to make an amazing Denver omelet.”

“Oh, my God. Of course you do,” she said, grinning.

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