trudge to school. I hadn’t seen Hannah’s brother for two years.
Chapter 2
I was feeling pretty damn good about myself by the time I reached the cabin. I’d recognized the half-hidden sign for the turnoff. And I’d successfully parallel parked between a jeep and a truck and even got impressively close to the side of the road. I’d packed just enough for two quiet, solitary nights in the cabin. I’d brought along bread and cheese for grilled cheese sandwiches, a dozen eggs and milk. And, of course, hot cocoa and marshmallows. There was no reason for me to suffer, after all.
Snow was piled in jagged mounds on the steps. I trudged through the crunchy ice and made it to the front door. A motion sensor light flicked on as I put the key in the lock. Hannah had emailed me directions for getting the place warmed up fast, and there was plenty of wood under the tarp on the porch. I turned on a light and stepped inside. All the memories came back to me. Hannah’s mom had decorated the cozy log home with tartan plaid, the curtains, the couches and even the throws draped over the chairs. It gave me the feeling of standing in a rustic cabin in the Scottish Highlands. Now, if only a massively built, kilted highlander would ride through the snowy forest on his black horse.
I plopped my stuff down, pulled out the printed directions for heat and walked over to the thermostat. Hannah had insisted it would work faster if I smacked it with my palm a few times. It was first on the list. Seconds later, the vents overhead churned and coughed and a dusty warmth permeated the room. I’d never built a fire, but I had every intention of starting one. Knowing what a clueless urbanite I was, Hannah had sent me directions for that, too.
I walked to the fireplace and slid the heavy metal screen along the rough stone hearth. A nice pile of wood already sat on the metal grate. As I reached for the matches, I was sure I’d heard a noise behind me. I glanced back around but only the peaceful, plaid couches stared back at me. “Don’t start hearing bears yet, Jamie, or you won’t make it here one night,” I told myself.
There was a silver key in a hole in the wall, which I turned. The hiss of gas echoed in the brick fireplace. I lit one of the long matches and leaned down to the wood. The fire burst to life with a loud puff. As I straightened, I heard the porch creak as if someone was walking on it. My heart raced and I glanced around for a weapon. It was probably just an animal, I assured myself, but my hands shook as I grabbed the long metal, pokey thing from the rack of fireplace tools. The doorknob turned, and I quickly tried to figure out whether or not bears had opposable thumbs.
I slid over to the wall with the door to get a jump on whoever, or whatever, was coming inside. I felt nearly sick with fright and cursed Brent for making me come up here alone. I was going to die at the hands of a serial killer, and it was all his damn fault.
The door opened, and I lifted the poker. The tall figure had a black beanie pulled down over long brown hair. My heart was pounding in my throat. I wasn’t completely sure what to do, but I was ready to smack him if he laid a hand on me. The person turned around. Light brown eyes sparkled in shock at the sight of me with my menacing fireplace poker.
“Cricket?” Tate looked up at the weapon held high in my shaky hand. “Were you going to clobber me?”
It took my head a second to let my hand know I could lower the poker. “Yeah, I was. What are you doing here? Hannah told me no one was using the place this weekend.”
He closed the door to shut out the icy temperature. “She did?” He seemed to be considering something and then he came to an obvious conclusion. “That sneaky little sister. I sent out a family email five days ago letting everyone know I was using the cabin for the weekend.”
“So she knew? Why, that little schemer.” I had no idea why Hannah would plan for something like
Chapter 2
I was feeling pretty damn good about myself by the time I reached the cabin. I’d recognized the half-hidden sign for the turnoff. And I’d successfully parallel parked between a jeep and a truck and even got impressively close to the side of the road. I’d packed just enough for two quiet, solitary nights in the cabin. I’d brought along bread and cheese for grilled cheese sandwiches, a dozen eggs and milk. And, of course, hot cocoa and marshmallows. There was no reason for me to suffer, after all.
Snow was piled in jagged mounds on the steps. I trudged through the crunchy ice and made it to the front door. A motion sensor light flicked on as I put the key in the lock. Hannah had emailed me directions for getting the place warmed up fast, and there was plenty of wood under the tarp on the porch. I turned on a light and stepped inside. All the memories came back to me. Hannah’s mom had decorated the cozy log home with tartan plaid, the curtains, the couches and even the throws draped over the chairs. It gave me the feeling of standing in a rustic cabin in the Scottish Highlands. Now, if only a massively built, kilted highlander would ride through the snowy forest on his black horse.
I plopped my stuff down, pulled out the printed directions for heat and walked over to the thermostat. Hannah had insisted it would work faster if I smacked it with my palm a few times. It was first on the list. Seconds later, the vents overhead churned and coughed and a dusty warmth permeated the room. I’d never built a fire, but I had every intention of starting one. Knowing what a clueless urbanite I was, Hannah had sent me directions for that, too.
I walked to the fireplace and slid the heavy metal screen along the rough stone hearth. A nice pile of wood already sat on the metal grate. As I reached for the matches, I was sure I’d heard a noise behind me. I glanced back around but only the peaceful, plaid couches stared back at me. “Don’t start hearing bears yet, Jamie, or you won’t make it here one night,” I told myself.
There was a silver key in a hole in the wall, which I turned. The hiss of gas echoed in the brick fireplace. I lit one of the long matches and leaned down to the wood. The fire burst to life with a loud puff. As I straightened, I heard the porch creak as if someone was walking on it. My heart raced and I glanced around for a weapon. It was probably just an animal, I assured myself, but my hands shook as I grabbed the long metal, pokey thing from the rack of fireplace tools. The doorknob turned, and I quickly tried to figure out whether or not bears had opposable thumbs.
I slid over to the wall with the door to get a jump on whoever, or whatever, was coming inside. I felt nearly sick with fright and cursed Brent for making me come up here alone. I was going to die at the hands of a serial killer, and it was all his damn fault.
The door opened, and I lifted the poker. The tall figure had a black beanie pulled down over long brown hair. My heart was pounding in my throat. I wasn’t completely sure what to do, but I was ready to smack him if he laid a hand on me. The person turned around. Light brown eyes sparkled in shock at the sight of me with my menacing fireplace poker.
“Cricket?” Tate looked up at the weapon held high in my shaky hand. “Were you going to clobber me?”
It took my head a second to let my hand know I could lower the poker. “Yeah, I was. What are you doing here? Hannah told me no one was using the place this weekend.”
He closed the door to shut out the icy temperature. “She did?” He seemed to be considering something and then he came to an obvious conclusion. “That sneaky little sister. I sent out a family email five days ago letting everyone know I was using the cabin for the weekend.”
“So she knew? Why, that little schemer.” I had no idea why Hannah would plan for something like
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