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Chapters (38)
  1. Cover
  2. RED SIN
  3. Red Sin
  4. Author Note
  5. 1. Julia
  6. 2. Julia
  7. 3. Julia
  8. 4. Julia
  9. 5. Julia
  10. 6. Julia
  11. 7. Julia
  12. 8. Julia
  13. 9. Julia
  14. 10. Van
  15. 11. Julia
  16. 12. Julia
  17. 13. Van
  18. 14. Julia
  19. 15. Van
  20. 16. Julia
  21. 17. Julia
  22. 18. Julia
  23. 19. Julia
  24. 20. Julia
  25. 21. Julia
  26. 22. Julia
  27. 23. Julia
  28. 24. Julia
  29. 25. Julia
  30. 26. Van
  31. 27. Julia
  32. 28. Julia
  33. 29. Julia
  34. 30. Van
  35. 31. Julia
  36. What to do now
  37. Books by New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig
  38. About the Author

“The good news is that I have a case of nectarines in my truck. And yes, there is always the soup.” He nodded toward a cupboard under the counter. “I’m not sure how old the cans are. We could search for expiration dates. There’s a pan to warm it if we want.”

That reminded me of the pot of water on the stove. “I turned the water off, it was boiling.”

Van nodded as he went to the pan and poured the water into a large jar. “This is to drink. I’m not sure about the water out of the pump. Boiling it first is best.”

It felt as though I was secluded with one of those mountain men from the movies.

“Why do you have nectarines in your truck?” I asked.

“I like nectarines.”

It was my turn to smile. “So you keep a case in your truck, just in case?”

“I order them by the case, and I’d recently picked up a shipment from the post office in town. At this moment, I’m glad I forgot to take them into my house.”

“Me too.”

Van headed toward the door, and stopped, picking up his flannel shirt from where he’d dropped it on the sofa. “You’re welcome to keep wearing the quilt, but I would guess that this shirt would make a decent-length dress.” He brought it to me. “Your choice, but your clothes are still cold and wet.”

I reached out and took the shirt. “Thank you.”

“There isn’t a lot of privacy here. If you want to put it on, I’ll be outside for a minute getting our dinner.”

Another thought came to me. “What about a bathroom?”

“There’s an outhouse about twenty yards from the door.”

For only a moment, my mouth dropped open. “You’re not serious.”

He grinned. “As a matter of fact, I am. I even shoveled a path out to it when I went for more wood. And the increased accumulation of snow works like insulation. Once you’re inside, the wind won’t freeze you.”

“The wind doesn’t need to—the cold will.”

“Not if you hurry.”

My head shook. “This is just unbelievable.”

Van went to a skinny cupboard near the table with the old pitcher and basin. Opening it, he pulled out a pair of what appeared to be rubber pants, complete with boots and suspenders. “After you put my shirt on, you can wear these out to the outhouse.”

My eyes narrowed. “What are those?”

“Waders,” he replied as if I should have known the answer.

“Waders? Aren’t those for fishing?”

“Very good.”

“You said the cabin is used for hunting.”

“During the summer, it’s used to hunt fish,” Van said with a grin. “Instead of a gun, a fishing pole is used. There’s a large lake nearby.”

“Nectarines.” I reminded.