Longest Night by Kara Braden Page A

moment he saw her standing against that little airplane of hers. The last thing he wanted to do was to act on that temptation and make an already-awkward winter even more uncomfortable.
    So instead, after they hung up their coats and built up the fires, he wished her good night and went into the bedroom alone. He undressed, wrapped up in her blankets, and lay in the firelit darkness, listening to her moving quietly around the kitchen, and wondered if there was anything he could do to help.

Chapter 5
    October 26
    A blast of cold wind carried Cecily into the kitchen, cheeks reddened, eyes bright. She grinned at Ian, who’d been at the stove for fifteen minutes, making breakfast. His hair was still damp from his shower. “Morning,” she said breathlessly, going right to the stove.
    â€œMorning to you.” He tried not to stare, but her unguarded happiness had him captivated. In the five nights he had been at the cabin, he hadn’t seen her sleep more than three hours at a time until last night. Perhaps going shooting really had helped her to relax. “You went out early.”
    â€œJogging.” She grinned at his incredulous expression. “I’ll be stuck doing calisthenics before too long. I don’t mind running in a little snow, but it’ll be measured in feet soon. Then it’s all push-ups and sit-ups.”
    â€œMaybe I’ll join you. I’ve got a list of exercises I’m supposed to do for my back.”
    â€œWhich you haven’t been doing since you got here,” she scolded, shaking her head, though she couldn’t hide a tiny smile. “Right. We’ll start that tomorrow.”
    Surprised at the reprieve, he asked, “Do we have plans for today?”
    â€œThere’s going to be another snowstorm later today or tonight,” she said over the sound of frying bacon. “Think your order’s made it to the post office yet?”
    â€œI should hope so.”
    â€œWe’ll fly in today,” Cecily decided. “Mark will keep the Pinelake runway clear, if it’s not too bad, but if it sticks tonight and continues through tomorrow, we’ll have to take the snowmobile and overnight in town.”
    Ian considered the gravel runway behind Cecily’s house and the sheer difficulty of keeping it free of snow. “What about on this end?” he asked as he slid the bacon onto a plate.
    She shrugged and came over to watch him crack eggs into the pan of bacon grease. “We’ll be fine here. The snow at Pinelake is always worse because of the open air. If it gets that bad at Pinelake, I’ll just leave the plane there until the weather clears, and we’ll take the long way back here.”
    â€œWhy?” Ian asked before he could stop himself. “Why do you live like this?”
    A hint of tension appeared in Cecily’s shoulders as she left his side and went to the pantry. “I like the quiet,” she said in an absolutely neutral tone. With her back turned, Ian couldn’t watch her facial expression, but he sensed that she was lying.
    He could understand that Cecily enjoyed the physical work required to maintain a primitive lifestyle. Just watching her chop wood had made Ian’s back ache in sympathy. He tried to help out where he could, mostly with cooking, but there was no way he could handle any heavier chores—not that his help was needed.
    And yet, while Cecily was obviously practiced at some aspects of her lifestyle, in others, she was terribly unprepared for living in isolation. While wandering the grounds on his second day there, Ian had found a weed-choked, dead garden. Somewhat embarrassed, she had explained that she’d tried to grow her own vegetables for three years before deciding that she had no talent at gardening. Instead, she stocked canned vegetables and bartered with Mags, whose garden was small but significantly more successful.
    But the reality was that Cecily really was a