Suzanne woke the next morning to an empty cabin—again. She had seen Grady last night, but only briefly when he’d come in at eight thirty and headed straight for his office. There was a note waiting for her, though, as she entered the kitchen. A note with instructions in his big, bold handwriting to go into Credence and pick up supplies for her parents’ cottage so they were prepared for the blizzard that was supposed to touch down later tonight.

She assumed Grady was always prepared, so nothing was needed for the cabin.

Candles and matches were on the list as well as spare batteries for the two large flashlights he’d left on the bench top. Also on the list—a supply of bottled water and some cans of food.

Beans are good.

That’s what he’d written. Suzanne struggled to think of a time she’d ever seen her parents eat baked beans, or any kind of ready-to-eat meal out of a can, and failed. But if the power went out, which it probably would at some point, they’d only have their gas cooktop so cans it was. Thankfully, the gas fireplace in the cottage meant there was no need for Suzanne to worry about her parents running out of firewood and risking a trip outdoors for more in the middle of a blizzard.

Unlike Grady’s cabin with its wood-burning fireplace.

But Suzanne had noticed yesterday that Grady—or somebody anyway—had stacked up a supply of wood and two huge baskets brimming with pine cones around the fireplace and against the cabin on the back porch under the overhang of the roof. The wood was neatly piled and tightly packed, looking like enough wood for a week and, as far as she knew, the weather station said the worst of it should be over in two days.

Fingers crossed.

Suzanne shivered. The wind was already picking up outside, and she was grateful to be inside, unlike poor Grady and his men, who must be freezing their balls off out there. Sure, it seemed right up his ex-military, tough-guy alley to be out battling these kinds of elements, but yikes…

Rather him than her.

…

At eight that night, Grady still wasn’t home as Suzanne waved her parents off at the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait the blizzard out here with us?” she asked them. “There’s a spare room.”

Her mother looked around at all the tinsel and other Christmas tack and shook her head. “No thanks, darling, we’ll be fine.”

At another time, her mother’s obvious distaste might have annoyed Suzanne, but frankly, she was relieved her mother had declined. For starters, it meant she and her father would spend more alone time together, and then there were the sleeping arrangements…