Page 38 of Montana Rain

The generator was in the basement, permanently installed with an exhaust pipe to the outside, cleverly structured so it couldn’t be blocked by snow. Jimmy thought of everything.

Thankfully, the wood I’d dried worked. Still damp, but dry enough to catch with kindling. Once the fire was roaring merrily in the small space, the power flicked on ten minutes later. It was still freezing, but there was warm air to aid the fire.

Rayne sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, entranced by the flames. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come out this far,” she said quietly. “This is way worse than we expected.”

“It is.”

“Based on what you saw, is there any chance of getting down the mountain?”

“Right now?” I looked out the window, and the wall of white appeared even more solid. “No. There’s almost a foot of snow. Even if we could see the path down, we’d probably get stuck.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet. This wasn’t the fear I’d seen last night. It was different. She was retreating into herself, and I wasn’t sure how to pull her back out.

I perched on the arm of the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Want to help me?”

Rayne looked around at the cabin, like she’d been so lost in her own thoughts she wasn’t even sure where she was. “Sure. What are we making?”

“Depends on what you feel like eating.”

“What do you have?”

I opened the small pantry door and gestured with a bow. “Your wish is my command.”

That drew a small smile from her. “I’m guessing we probably don’t want anything that will take too much power or energy.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t buy anything I thought would take too much of either of those things. I can fend for myself, but cooking isn’t something I love to do.”

She stood in the doorway of the pantry, so close to me I could smell the shampoo in her hair. Soft and strawberry. This woman was going to have me hard every time I was around a fruit. First cherry, now strawberry. I shifted my body, cursing the fact that I’d put on sweatpants.

I’d promised Rayne I wouldn’t pressure her, and I wouldn’t. But I was only so strong, and telling my body not to react to her? It would be easier to go out into the blizzard, tell it to stop snowing, and expect it to listen.

“Pasta?” She pulled a box off the shelf and the jar of sauce next to it. “This is easy and sounds good.”

“I have some garlic bread in the freezer too.”

“The oven?”

I winked. “I think we can eke out enough power to toast it up a little.”

We needed to watch the pipes to make sure they didn’t freeze. But knowing Jimmy, they were made out of something that would be just fine. If worse came to worst, we could melt some snow and truly go Little House on the Prairie, though I’d been joking before.

“What’s your favorite food?” I asked.

Rayne looked at me. “What?”

“What’s your favorite food?” I asked again, pulling a pot out of the cupboard and filling it with water. The stove was gas, so it didn’t draw extra power.

“Why does that matter?”

I laughed. “Just making conversation, Rayne. We’re cooking. Thought it might be a good topic for conversation. My favorite meal, for example, is grilled cheese and tomato soup. Simple enough, but I ate it a lot as a kid, and I still love it.”

Rayne stared at me for a moment before she finished putting the garlic bread on the cookie sheet she’d found. “Thai,” she said. “Pad Thai, usually chicken. I also love Thai iced tea.”

“It must be hard to find good Thai food in Montana.”

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