Page 14 of Organized Chaos

Sarah’s teeth chattered. She stepped to his side and buffed her arms. “Good thing I grabbed a sweater.” She plucked at the material beneath her overall straps. “What are you looking for?”

“Something to start the fire.” He shifted a row of jars aside. “There used to be some candles on one of the shelves. I’m hoping they left some matches behind.”

“I have a lighter.” Sarah rummaged in the bag still strapped across her body. She’d not removed it once since they fell.

Phillip gaped at her when she pulled a lighter free and held it out toward him.

“What?” She shot him a mischievous grin. “I search abandoned homes for a living. I’ve learned to carry a lighter. And a candle.”

She lifted a slim taper and pointed it at him like a sword.

“Too bad Iforgot my trail mix and granola bars.”

His stomach complained, loud and long enough to cause his cheeks to heat. “Thanks.” He took the lighter and flicked it. A spurt of sparks shot out and he eyed Sarah. “You’re sure it’s not empty?”

“Nope.” She settled in the dirt and crossed her legs. “Guess you’ll have to hold your breath. Hope you’re better at starting fires than I am.”

“I’ve had some practice.” He added a teasing note to his voice. “And before you comment, no, it isn’t because I’m a pyromaniac. I live in the country. We enjoy a nice bonfire on occasion.”

“Me too.” Sarah sighed and pulled her knees to her chest. “With s’mores and hot dogs.”

“Don’t.” Phillip grimaced and rubbed his aching stomach. “Talking about food will only make it worse.”

He was hungry enough to eye the jars on the shelf above him. He knew better than to even think about it, but man it was tough to have food right there and not be able to eat it. Spoiled food, he reminded himself. Food that would make him sick, possibly even kill him. Yeah, he’d rather deal with a hungry belly.

Kneeling, he clicked the lighter again and a tiny flame burst out. Phillip quickly touched it to the paper and held his breath.

Sarah giggled from beside him when the paper took the flame and he let out a sigh that sent the flame fluttering into the next bunch of paper. “I’ll get some of that old wood.” She stood and marched off into the dark.

Phillip watched her go until she disappeared from view outside the tiny ring of light the fire provided. An icy shiver trailed down his spine. Night had truly fallen, and they had almost no hope of getting out before dawn. Exhaustion tugged on him, the kind that came from panic and mental turmoil. His brain wanted to shut down and was ordering his body to rest. Like it knew that the real test hadn’t come yet and was trying to prepare him for the upcoming hours.

He never should’ve come into the house. He should have stayed in his study, recorded his podcast, and went about the rest of his day. Except, if he’d done that, Sarah would be stuck down here alone. And he could imagine the disaster she’d wreak on her own while trying to get out. It was a wonder she’d made it through the day without serious injury.

She lived with a vivacious tenacity and boldness that he found alarming but somehow exhilarating. He’d never known anyone like her.

Sarah returned with her arms loaded down. She dropped the wood beside him and resumed her seat. Her elbows landed on her knees, and she propped her chin on her knuckles. “At least there are clothes if we need extra layers.”

Phillip eyed the boxes that held his grandparents’ bygone relics. “Not sure I’d call those clothes. Moth-eaten strips of fabric, maybe.”

“Ah, but they’re vintage.” Sarah leaned to the side and grabbed a slip of yellowed cloth that she wrapped around her neck. “Take this scarf. How many times has it kept your grandmother warm?”

“None.” Phillip poked a sliver of wood into the fire and lifted his eyes to the smoke trailing upward. Thank you, Lord. It was going through the hole as he’d prayed it would. “Granny bought that scarf at a yard sale and never used it. She said it was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen, and she was doing everyone else a favor by hiding it in a box.”

Sarah snorted and reached back into the box. “What about these?” She held up a pair of tattered overalls. The blue had faded to near-white. Holes in the knees had been patched so many times that Phillip lost count.

His throat worked as he choked on the memories of following his grandfather around the ranch. The older man had worn those overalls every day without fail. Said they were his favorite pair because Phillip bought them for him as a Christmas present one year.

Sarah’s eyes softened. She passed him the overalls and squeezed his hand.

Phillip cleared his throat and nodded once, then resumed feeding larger pieces of wood into the fire. The small blaze built high enough that it warmed his knees.

Sarah held her hands out and closed her eyes. “I could get used to this.”

“Please don’t.” Phillip forced out a grin and a light chuckle. “Falling through floors and spending the night trapped in cellars is not a healthy lifestyle.”

Sarah bobbed her head side to side. “Maybe not for you.” She dove back into the box and threw a lump in his direction. It bounced off his chest and landed in the fire. With a poof and a burst of flame, the material caught. It burned at a furious pace. A trail of fire began eating its way back toward Sarah and the box.

“Move.” Phillip lunged for the box and attempted to untangle the fabrics before the fire took over the entire box.

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