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I pry the tarp away and find what I guess is about a cord of firewood. Knowing there is nothing I can do to help Noah, I take a couple of armloads into the cabin. Worst case scenario: we’ll have it for tonight. Best case: I replenish the pile for Eric.
I go back to the shed and find Noah still hunched over the snowmobile, trying to get it started. “There is plenty of wood,” I tell him. “I took some into the cabin just in case we need it.”
“That’s one good thing,” he says with disgust.
“Do you need me to get anything?”
He stands up and looks at me. “No. I’m going to try a few things. I’ll tell you now, I don’t have a lot of hope.”
“But you have some hope,” I smile.
“Very little. Give me an hour. If I can’t get it, we’ll need to switch gears and prepare to be here for another day or two. The weather looks clear, but I have no idea if there is a storm on the horizon.”
I hear what he’s saying. It’s terrifying, but I do feel safe with him. “Okay. I’m going to get my camera and do a little scouting around. I came all the way out here. I may as well try to get some shots.”
Noah looks up from the engine, concern in his eyes. “Stay close to the cabin, Mia. It’s not safe to wander too far.”
I roll my eyes, feeling a pang of irritation. “Noah, I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs but nods reluctantly. “Okay. Just be careful.”
I turn and trudge back to the cabin. Once inside, I grab my camera bag and slip back outside, closing the door behind me. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck to help ward off the chill and wander away from the cabin, the snow crunching under my boots. The landscape is stunning, untouched by human habitation. The trees are frosted with snow, and icicles hang from their branches like delicate jewels. It’s hard to believe danger lurks beneath this serene surface.
I find a spot near a frozen stream and set up my camera. The scene is breathtaking, and I snap photo after photo, losing myself in the rhythm of the shutter. My fingers are numb, but I hardly notice. The camera is my lifeline, a way to escape from the harsh reality of our predicament. I don’t think these pictures will make me any money, but I want to capture this moment for myself. This is a memory I know I’m going to look back on with fondness. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, miserable, and a little scary, but there is excitement.
I move a little further away, turning to get a few shots of the cabin with the shed in the background before going into the trees to search for creatures that might be out enjoying the weather. As I scan the forest, my camera lens catches glimpses of deer and squirrels. I feel a sense of awe at the natural beauty surrounding me. If the circumstances were different, I would feel like the luckiest woman in the world to see this—to be a part of nature.
A cold breeze brushes by me. Oddly enough, I am happy to be out here. Yesterday, all I could think about was getting inside. Today, I’m relishing the beauty.
Chapter sixteen
Noah
Icurse under my breath as I try to start the snowmobile. The battery is dead, and judging by the engine’s condition, it hasn’t been running for a long while. The fuel might be gunked up, too. I glance around the small shed, hoping against hope to find the solution to my problem, but there’s nothing. I don’t expect much, but people who stay this far out usually have some essential tools.
“Come on,” I murmur. “You have to start. You don’t have to run well. You don’t have to go twenty miles. I just need you for about five. Hell, I’ll take two. Just give me something.”
I sit back on my heels, taking a deep breath. I’ve been working on this snowmobile for over an hour. My back aches, my hands are cut up, and I’m sweating despite the frigid weather. I’ve worked on snowmobiles since I was ten. Not a lot can go wrong with them, but when it does, it typically results in the things becoming giant paperweights, especially one this old.
I try everything I know, and the thing isn’t even attempting to turn over. I turn the key and burst into laughter when there is zero fire. Nothing. Dead.
“What do we do now?” I mutter to myself. “We have limited food and are in the middle of nowhere.”
Is it terrible that in the back of my mind, I’m thinking it might not be the worst thing in the world? Stuck in a cozy cabin with a beautiful woman who seems to like me, at least like sex with me—things could be worse.
But I don’t want to let her down. I have to keep trying. I grab the flashlight and shine it around the shed. I see what looks like an old toolbox. Maybe there’s something in it I can use. I know it’s going to take an act of God to get that thing running, but I can’t stop. I have to keep trying. I want to be her hero. Maybe that makes me a narcissist. I don’t care.
“Shit!” I manage to catch myself before slamming my face into a shelf.
I look down and realize I tripped over a boot. Frustration takes over, and I try to kick it out of my way. The boot doesn’t move. I look closer and realize its position isn’t normal. I know what I’m looking at, but my brain refuses to believe it. I move the flashlight beam over the area, seeing a faded, thin blue tarp covering something against the wall.
I freeze. I need to look, but I don’t want to confirm what I suspect. Not looking doesn’t make it go away. I reach for the corner of the tarp and pull it back a couple of inches.
“Shit.”
Legs. Legs are attached to the boots. I pull the tarp back further and see a blood-soaked torso.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
