Time to teach the city girl how to build a fire.
Chapter Ten
Emily
I resisted the urge to flinch when the lightbulb in my bedroom flickered. It had been doing that on and off for the past three hours, as had the rest of the lights in my mother’s house. I knew what it meant. The power was doomed to fail sooner rather than later.
To my disappointment, it happened sooner. I should have plugged my laptop in to charge hours ago.
The whole house went dark and eerily quiet all at once. The comforting, ever-present noises associated with the heater, the oxygen tank, and the television, were gone in an instant.
I looked at my laptop. It had five percent battery left.
“Just my luck …” I grumbled.
I’d been stuck in Frazier Falls because of the new storm, and it forced me to pick up work from Sadie that I could complete remotely. I knew I had to get back by Monday. Our February projects depended on it, but that didn’t seem likely after checking the weather forecast. Nothing was due to improve until at least the middle of next week.
As a geographer and a failed-wannabe-meteorologist, I knew how difficult it was to make accurate long-term weather forecasts. The current one could be completely wrong, and the tumultuous front that was tormenting Colorado might be gone by the weekend. On the other hand, it could stay far longer than forecasted.
I sighed heavily. There was no use brooding in a dark room. I had to find candles and flashlights and set up a fire.
When I padded downstairs, I found my mother on the sofa, snoozing. The imminent cold would wake her soon. It would fill her lungs and make it difficult to breathe. I only had a limited time to get a fire going before the cold woke her. The biggest problem I faced was we were out of wood.
“How did this happen?” I complained under my breath, furious. Upon reflection, I had no one to blame but myself. Since I’d discovered a new love of building long-burning fires, the fireplace barely saw a day without one. It was no wonder we had run out.
I hurried to locate the stash of candles my mom kept, strategically placing them around the house to light up the rooms. Then I found a flashlight and struggled outside to the shed in the hopes of finding more wood, but the roof of the shed was leaking, and the wood inside was either wet, frozen, or rotted to the core.
“What do I do now?” I worried, knowing that Wilkes’ would certainly be closed, not to mention they were probably out of firewood, too. “If only Ma had gotten a bloody backup generator installed,” I muttered as I made my way back inside. That was confirmation that I needed to keep working in Los Angeles. The pay was good and allowed me to provide the things mom’s small retirement check couldn’t.
When I moved through the living room, I felt the marked drop in temperature from ten minutes prior. If I didn’t get the fire up and running soon, or if the power didn’t come back on in the next hour or so, the house would end up as icy as an igloo.
I ran upstairs and took several blankets from the hallway closet and rushed back to the living room with them. I covered my mom as I checked her oxygen tank for good measure. No electricity meant no oxygen. She barely stirred, which only worried me more.
As I started to panic, a knock rattled the door. Odd, I thought. Who in the world would come knocking in this weather? Then I felt a buzzing in my pocket, so I pulled out my phone to find a text from Eli.
Open the damn door. I come bearing gifts.
I rushed over immediately to let him in. He stood there with an armful of firewood. I almost kissed him on the spot.
“How did you know?” I asked breathlessly as I closed the door behind him. “Our firewood ran out.”
“Pax was pretty sure your mom didn’t have a backup generator, so I took a guess that you guys may be in trouble. With you being a city gal with no fire-making skills and all, I rushed like a knight ready to rescue.” He moved to the cold fireplace and stacked on the wood.
“I’ll have you know,” I said as he took off his jacket, “that I’m pretty damn good at making fires.”
He threw me a look. “Hard to believe, Flanagan.”
“Okay, I didn’t know how to build one until a few days ago, but that was nothing a quick internet search couldn’t fix.”
He laughed. “And yet you ended up running out of firewood in the middle of a storm. Sounds like you’ve got everything covered.” He grabbed his jacket. “Should I be on my way?”
I gripped his arm. “I know you’re only joking, but I’m worried enough about my mom that I’m not going to risk it. I hadn’t started a fire today, and it’s getting cold in the living room. I need to heat it up before the chill gets to her and freezes up her lungs.”
Eli nodded in understanding, his expression immediately turning serious.
He dropped his jacket on a nearby chair and stared at Mom’s lifeless body.
“No need to be careful about making noise,” I told him as he cautiously made his way to the fireplace. “She’s a heavy sleeper. I’d rather she stay asleep until we have the place heated, anyway.”
“Got it. Are there any other fireplaces in the house?”
“There’s one in my bedroom.”
“Go throw some wood on it and get one started up there. Always better to have one upstairs and one down when it’s this cold. Make sure to use the screen to prevent a bigger fire.”
“Won’t we run out of firewood quicker that way?”
He glanced at the couch. “There’s definitely not enough space for two people to sleep on that, so unless you want to freeze in your sleep—”
“I’ll be fine.”
“It wasn’t a request, Emily,” he replied firmly.
I took the pile of firewood he handed me, momentarily stunned into silence. I wasn’t used to someone bossing me around, least of all a guy I barely knew. I was disconcerted to discover that I kind of liked it. Liking it went against everything I believed. However, Eli was trying to help so that got him brownie points.
That was sweet, in its own way, though the method through which he was demonstrating he cared could do with some improvement.
Fifteen minutes later, I was tending to the fledgling fire in my bedroom when I heard footsteps creaking along the hallway outside my door.
“I’m in here,” I called out, guessing the footsteps belonged to Eli. He crept in and joined me, kneeling, by the fire.
“Not bad,” he commented. “I underestimated you.”
“Which turned out great for me, considering my mom and I would be screwed if you hadn’t.”
He chuckled. “I guess so.”
“How’s the fire doing downstairs?”
“Crackling away. It’ll get hot soon.”
“Same with this one. How often should I come up to check it to make sure it hasn’t burned out if I’m downstairs?”
Eli appeared to consider my question. “Probably every hour or so. Most of the time you won’t have to give it any new wood. It will just need poking and prodding a bit.”
“Good to know.”
An awkward silence filled the air before it became apparent that neither of us knew what to say. Eli’s stomach rumbled, and the tension immediately broke.
I burst out laughing. “Are you hungry?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”
“Guess it’s your good fortune because I was going to make spaghetti for dinner. We’re in luck because the stove is run by gas. Care to help? If not, you can sit in the kitchen and watch if you want.”
“I’m sure I can work up the energy to cook with you.” The look in his eyes was hungry but not necessarily for food.
His gaze drifted over me, my body heating with each visual caress.
We made our way to the kitchen just as my mom woke up in the living room. She looked at us with sleepy, confused eyes.
“Emily, who’s that with you? Is that Paxton Cooper?”
“Eli,” he laughed.
“All you boys look the same.”
/> “Other than Paxton, you’re not wrong. How are you feeling, Judy?”
She yawned. “Stiff. Hungry. Did the power go off?”
“An hour ago,” I replied. “And a good thing you're hungry because we’re about to make dinner.”
My mom looked at me curiously, “Are you going to tell me why Eli Cooper is visiting?”
“Oh," I said. “He was worried we didn’t have any way to keep the house warm, which is just as well because we ran out of firewood.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you, Eli. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I couldn’t leave you out on a limb, and I knew it had been a while since Paxton had been around with firewood, so …”
“Speaking of, is there any reason you came around this time? It is normally Paxton who looks in on the seniors.”
“He came to see me,” I said without thinking, glancing at Eli out of the corner of my eye. His nod confirmed my statement.
My mother looked more ecstatic than I had seen her look in a long time. “I hope you’ve invited him to stay for dinner, Emily.”
“Naturally. He’s going to help me make it.”
“Even better.”
“I’ll make you some tea while we’re in the kitchen,” I called over my shoulder as I gently tugged Eli’s sleeve, pulling him into the kitchen.
“Thank you, honey. Cream and—”
“Two sugars. I know, Ma.”
When we entered the kitchen, Eli seemed surprised to discover I’d already made the bulk of the sauce.
With a dip of a nearby spoon, he tasted it. “It’s bland.”
I rolled my eyes. “The way my mom likes it. If I had it my way, it would be spicy and garlicky as hell.”
He set the spoon in the sink. “Sounds wonderful. How about I divide it up? A portion for your mom, and I can spice up the rest for us?”
“That would be great. Can you do that while I cut up the vegetables and put the spaghetti on to boil?”
Eli moved over to take charge of the sauce as I maneuvered around him to complete everything else. It was such a common thing—people cooking together—but I found myself thoroughly enjoying the activity.
“Here, try this,” Eli said after a while, dipping a spoon into the sauce and holding it out for me to taste. I blew on it before licking it, and all but moaned in delight.
“That’s delicious. Do you cook much for yourself?”
He didn’t seem to be listening. His eyes were on my mouth, staring intently at my lips. It made me blush furiously.
“Eli.”
“Yes?”
On impulse, I leaned in and kissed him, relishing the look of surprise on his face.
“Do you cook much?” I asked again when I pulled away.
“Um … yes. I do. When I can, anyway,” His breath hitched, coming faster than before. He reached forward and pushed the hair that had fallen in my eyes away. “Why did you do that?”
I licked the taste of him from my lips. “Are you telling me I can’t?”
“Absolutely not. Are you telling me I can?” He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, so briefly, I wasn’t sure if it actually happened.
“It’s not like you asked for permission the first time.”
“You didn’t complain.”
The memory of their first kiss sent shivers racing down her spine to settle in her core. “Don’t embarrass me in front of my mom, and I’ll consider more kisses.”
He grinned foolishly. “Deal.”
That evening, I had the best meal I’d had since arriving in Frazier Falls, and Eli was a perfect gentleman. He declined my mom’s offer to stay over, claiming he needed to go in order to get back home before it got too late.
When I showed him to the door, I more than expected him to kiss me.
He leaned in as I was getting ready to pucker my lips and whispered, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Are you trying to play the long game with a woman who’s only around because of a bit of snow?”
He laughed. “Maybe. I’m probably being stupid.”
“Probably.” My insides warmed at the thought of Eli wanting more.
He grazed the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Emily.”
A strong, heavy heartbeat thumped inside my chest.
“I look forward to it.” I was shocked to discover that I meant it.
Chapter Eleven
Eli
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. Given that I didn’t have work today, I chose to sleep in, which made waking up midmorning even better. But the sunshine meant more than simply the promise of a good day.
It meant Emily would likely be heading back to California soon.
I was past the point of pretending I didn’t like her. There were no two ways about it. I was crazy attracted to her, barbed tongue and all. That was the most fun part of her besides her kisses. She gave as good as she got.
If today was going to be the last day I could spend time with her, then I’d be crazy not to get up and seize the moment.
I dialed her phone before I had the chance to rethink what I was doing.
After the phone rang five times, I wondered if she might still be asleep. Maybe I wasn’t the only one sleeping in.
But then she picked up.
“Hello? Eli?” Her tone was chipper and friendly.
“Morning, Emily,” I let out too quickly. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“No, I was working. It’s fine.”
“Working? I thought you couldn’t while you were stuck here?”
“Nah, I got some stuff sent over that I could work on remotely,” she replied. “Anyway, did you need something?”
There was a lift on the last word, was that hope I heard in her voice?
“Um …” I trailed off. If she was working, then I didn’t want to disturb her. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to head out for coffee somewhere, but if you’re busy, I don’t want—”
“Oh, that sounds great,” she cut in, her voice as bright as the sun piercing my blinds. “I could use a coffee. Ma’s all out. Though, I can’t stay out for long because of this project I’m working on. I do love a paycheck, and no work means no check.”
“We could make it a working coffee break if you want,” I suggested, thinking that this way I could spend more time with her. “Sit in companionable silence while we do our own thing…”
“Seriously? You’d be okay with that?”
“God knows I could get out of my house, and I’m sure you feel the same way about your mom’s. Besides, the coffee at Alice’s is actually great.”
“It’s a date then,” she replied.
I could practically see her smiling down the phone.
“Is it?” My insides swirled with excitement.
“You know what I mean. Do you feel like picking me up?”
“Sure, I always pick up my dates.”
Twenty minutes later, I waited outside Judy Flanagan’s house. After a single knock on the door, Emily joined me. We were back in my truck in seconds flat.
“Brrr, is it colder out despite the sun? I’m absolutely Baltic.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Baltic? Like the sea?”
Emily laughed as I pulled the truck away, heading toward Alice’s. “It’s slang for freezing.”
“I’ve never heard someone say that before.”
She shrugged, a graceful movement of one shoulder. “I think it’s more of an Irish and Scottish thing. My ma says it all the time. Guess she’s rubbing off on me.”
“I’ll be sure to use it to describe how cold I am to my brothers. I can’t wait to see their confused faces.”
“No, that’ll make you look weird and desperate.”
“How did you reach that conclusion?” I gave her a cursory glance, cocking my head in question.
“Because it looks like you’re making an effort to speak like me. You only get to be Irish by birth, not by choice.” Her laugh
rang through the air like sweet music.
“One day a year, everyone gets to be Irish. That day, I drink green beer, see leprechauns, and wish on four-leaf clovers.”
She laughed. “I hope you only see the leprechauns after the beer.”
“It takes about four or five before they appear.” I pulled down Main Street and parked in the only free spot in front of the diner. “We’re here.”
“That didn’t take long.”
“It’s a small town. What did you expect?”
“Right. A small town …”
We made our way into Alice’s, which was reasonably busy—likely full of people desperate to get out of their houses like Emily and me. A couple left one of the window tables as I set eyes on it. Emily took the initiative and rushed over to claim it as ours. Somehow, this only served to endear her all the more in my eyes. She was eager for our time together.
I took the seat across from her as Alice approached. “Hey, kids. What will it be?”
“Two coffees, please, Alice.” I looked across the table. “This is Emily Flanagan.”
“You’re Judy’s daughter.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emily pushed the dirty dishes from the last couple to the edge of the table.
Cassy Reilly swung by and swept them up.
“How is your mom?”
Emily’s smile faltered as the tension tightened the delicate features of her face. “She’s hanging in there. The cold isn’t helping her much, but I’d say she’s on the mend.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll send some pie home with you. Judy loves my cherry pie.”
“That sounds great. She’ll appreciate that.”
I raised a hand before Alice could disappear. “I don’t think Emily’s had your pie. Can we have a slice of apple and cherry so she can try them both?”
“I’ll get that going for you.” Alice turned on her high-top tennis shoes, the soles squeaking against the worn wood.
“What about those floors, Alice?” I looked down at the wood that had a path worn into it.
“Not fixin’ what’s not broken,” she called back.
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