Page 3 of Noel with the Mountain Man
Kyler
She'sgoingtodriveme insane.
I can tell this within the first thirty minutes of our forced cohabitation. Noel doesn't do quiet. She hums while she unpacks. She rearranges the throw pillows on the couch. She asks if I mind if I want tea, and then hands me a mug before I can answer.
She mentioned she’d only booked the cabin for Christmas Eve—just one night to get away—but something tells me one night isn’t going to be enough.
The cabin that was blissfully silent an hour ago now sounds like a one-woman production ofA Christmas Carol.
I should be annoyed.
Iamannoyed.
But I'm also having a hard time not watching her move around the space. She's shed her coat, and underneath she's wearing this soft green sweater that keeps slipping off one shoulder. Her dark hair is still dusted with snow. She's got this energy abouther—like she's determined to make the best of a bad situation even if it kills her.
It's... distracting.
"Do you always stare at people like that?" she asks without turning around.
Busted."I'm not staring."
"You've been staring for five minutes." She glances over her shoulder, and there's a glint of amusement in her brown eyes.
I scowl at her. “I have not.”
“If you say so,” she says, wrapping both hands around her mug of tea. “So, what's your deal, anyway? Why are you hiding in a cabin in the middle of nowhere on Christmas?"
"I'm not hiding."
"Right. You're just... what? Finding yourself?"
"I like the quiet."
"Mm." She takes a sip of her tea, watching me over the rim of the mug. "Sorry to ruin that for you."
She doesn't sound sorry at all.
I should tell her to stay on her side of the cabin. Should establish boundaries. Should do literally anything except stand here wondering what she'd do if I closed the distance between us and—
The lights flicker.
Noel's eyes go wide. "That's not good."
"The lines are probably heavy with snow and ice.” I move to the window and peer out. Can't see more than five feet. The snow's coming down so thick it's like someone draped a quilt over the world. "Power might go out."
"Don’t say that,” she squeals. “You’ll jinx us.”
The lights flicker again. Then die completely.
Noel gasps as the cabin drops into shadow. The only illumination comes from the fireplace, flames licking against the stone and throwing her silhouette into a soft, gold outline. Shelooks fragile in that moment, with her sweater slipping off one shoulder and her breath catching like a bird’s.
“Okay,” she says, voice tremoring just a little. “That’s fine. We have the fire. We’re fine.”
“We’re fine,” I echo, steady, because someone has to be. I grab another log and stoke the flames until the crackling roar fills the silence.
But it’s already colder.
She crosses her arms over her chest, rubbing warmth into her skin. “How long do blizzards like this last?”
