Page 10 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

"Letting him know about your car. He'll contact the mechanic about a tow once roads are passable."

She leaned against the counter, studying me over the rim of her mug. "Thank you. That's thoughtful."

I shrugged, uncomfortable with gratitude I hadn't earned. "Makes sense to get things lined up."

"And the roads? Any change?"

"Still flooded. Forecast says rain through tomorrow, clearing after that."

Her expression fell slightly before she composed it. "Okay, so another day at least."

"Looks that way." I moved to the cupboard, pulling out a loaf of bread for toast. "Hope you don't mind simple meals. Not much for fancy cooking."

"I could help with that, actually." She straightened, setting down her mug. "Cooking, I mean. As a thank-you for rescuing me and letting me stay."

I paused, bread in hand. "Thought you said you usually lived on takeout."

"I said cooking for one seems like too much trouble." A small smile curved her lips. "Doesn't mean I can't cook. I find it relaxing, actually. Therapeutic, even. I’d devote more time to it if I had the time to spare—and of course a reason."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "With what? Cupboards aren't exactly stocked for gourmet meals."

"Let me see what you've got. I bet I can put together something decent."

Before I could object, she was opening cabinets, surveying my modest supplies with unexpected enthusiasm. I watched in bewilderment as she catalogued items, occasionally nodding to herself as if solving a complex equation.

"Rice... canned beans... some dried herbs... Ah! You have chicken stock. And is that—yes, dried mushrooms." She turned to me, eyes bright with unexpected animation. "Do you have any vegetables in that greenhouse of yours I saw out back? Onions? Garlic? Maybe carrots?"

The abrupt shift from awkward houseguest to confident cook caught me off guard. "Uh, yeah. Some root vegetables in thecold storage. Onions, carrots. Probably garlic. I like working the land. Gives me something to do—planting, harvesting. Saves me some trips into town for produce."

"Perfect! I can make a pretty decent risotto with what you've got. Not completely authentic but satisfying."

I stared at her, trying to reconcile this enthusiastic woman with the polished Manhattan writer who'd crashed into my life. "Risotto?"

"It's really just fancy rice." She waved a dismissive hand. "Comfort food with a pretentious name. I learned to make it during a particularly brutal deadline when I couldn't sleep. Something about the constant stirring is meditative."

I found myself nodding, surprised by the unexpected glimpse into her life. "Cold storage is behind the greenhouse. I'll show you after breakfast."

"Great!" She beamed, then seemed to catch herself, moderating her expression. "I mean, if that's okay with you. I don't want to impose more than I already am."

"It's fine." I turned away, unsettled by the warmth her smile had generated in my chest. "I burn toast anyway."

As if summoned by my words, smoke curled from the toaster. I cursed, yanking the plug from the wall and extracting two blackened slabs that barely resembled bread.

"Case in point," I muttered, dumping the charred remains into the trash.

To my surprise, Brynn laughed—a genuine sound, warm and unrestrained. "I think the universe just confirmed my usefulness," she said, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Let me."

She took fresh slices from the loaf, adjusted the toaster's setting, and popped them in. While waiting, she rummagedfurther, discovering a half-empty jar of strawberry preserves I'd forgotten existed.

"Homemade?" she asked, examining the hand-written label.

"Mrs. Lindstrom from the orchard down the valley. Payment for helping with some heavy lifting last fall."

Brynn nodded approvingly. "Local economy at work. Trade and barter."

The toast popped up, perfectly golden. She arranged the slices on plates and spread a pat of butter on each followed by generous dollops of preserves, placing them on the table with a flourish.

"Breakfast is served. Nothing fancy, but at least it's edible."

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