Page 7 of Snowed in with the Mountain Man

Aiden returns with an armful of throw blankets. "Wrap up," he says, draping one around my shoulders. "I'll check the power."

He moves to the fuse box, clicking switches. Nothing happens.

"Lines are down," he pronounces. "Gas still working?"

I shrug helplessly. "I don't know. I just got here before going to your store."

He tests the stove. A blue flame flickers to life.

"Thank God for small mercies," he mutters.

That's when it hits me. We're trapped. In a powerless cabin. During a blizzard. With a stranger.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat.

"This is fine," I say, voice higher than normal. "Totally fine. Just stuck in a blizzard in April with no power, barely any supplies, and a cabin that's basically made of holes. No problem. I've got this. Totally normal Tuesday."

Aiden pauses his inspection to look at me. His expression softens marginally.

"You're going to be okay," he says, gruffness tempered. "We both are."

"We can't stay here," I protest. "The roof is leaking, the windows are broken, there's no power—"

"We can and we will," he cuts me off, not unkindly. "No choice now."

He crosses to the fireplace. "When was the last time this was used?"

"I have no idea. I told you, I barely knew my uncle."

He pokes at something inside the chimney. "Damper works. No birds' nests. That's something."

My panic recedes, replaced by my natural tendency to organize chaos.

"Let's list our assets," I say. "Shelter, technically. Supplies from your store. Food from my groceries. Fire soon, hopefully. Gas stove works. That's... something, right?"

"Water?" Aiden asks, arranging kindling.

"Pipes probably frozen. But we have snow. Infinite snow."

He almost smiles. Almost. "We'll melt it. For drinking and basic washing."

The fireplace catches with a whoosh. The immediate heat makes my eyes water with relief.

"What about your brother?" I ask. "Could he help?"

Aiden shakes his head. "Jake works search and rescue. Storm like this, he'll be handling emergency calls, not checking on his big brother."

"But wearean emergency!"

"We're inconvenienced," he corrects. "We have shelter, heat, food, water. Others won't be so lucky."

He's right, but it doesn't make our situation any less surreal.

Together, we secure the cabin. Aiden uses the tarp to cover the worst roof sections. I hold the flashlight while he staples plastic over broken windows. The wind still creeps in, but it's better.

By the time we finish, darkness has fallen completely. The temperature drops noticeably. I add another layer but can't stop shivering.

"Your temperature is still low," Aiden observes. "Body can't generate enough heat after that exposure."

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