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ChapterThree
Cheyenne
“Is there any firewood?” I asked, lighting one of the candles with the lighter I found in a basket on the top of the fridge.
“We shouldn’t have to be here that long.” Wade stood in the middle of the living room while I set the candle on the coffee table. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”
“Well, I’m freezing, so I’ll just go find some on my own then.” I shook my head at just how insufferable the man was. He was seriously standing there shivering but was acting like the pouring rain would suddenly stop—and we were going to make the trek in the middle of the night...
And where would we be going? My broke down van? I wasn’t even sure if it was still there. The tornado could’ve carried it across the state for all I knew. I let out a heavy sigh and thudded through the chilly cabin, heading for the back door.
“It’s on the back porch. I’ll help you,” he called out from behind me, his footsteps growing louder as I closed in on the back door. I unlocked the dead bolt at the top and opened the door, relieved to see the stack of dry firewood covered with a tarp on a rack. “My parents try to keep it stocked.”
“Smart people.” I pushed the dark green tarp out of the way before loading my arms with the dried wood. “I didn’t think Texas got cold,” I added as I headed back toward the door. “Not that it’sthatcold right now. My clothes are just wet.”
“It’s just a quick cold front from the north. It’ll warm up tomorrow, probably. I haven’t watched the weather.” He grabbed more firewood and fell in step behind me, shutting the door behind us.
“I see. Well, I thought you were a rancher or something,” I snorted, heading to the wood stove positioned in the corner of the living room. “Farmers and ranchers watch the weather religiously.”
He chuckled. “I let my dad worry about that. He usually just fills me in. I knew there was a chance for tornados and storms today, but the chance was only marginal. I wasn’t that worried about it.”
“Good to know.” I filled the stove before lighting it. The heat was instant, and relief flooded my body as I sat in front of it, thankful that I didn’t have to keep shivering. “Takoda,” I called out to my dog, who was sleeping on the couch. “Come get warm.” His head perked up, and he jumped down, his little feet pattering across the old wooden floors. He climbed into my lap and licked my chin.
“What’s his name?” Wade asked, hovering above me, clearly needing to get warm as well.
“Takoda,” I repeated myself. “It’s Sioux for friend.”
“Huh, interesting.” He gave me a quizzical look but didn’t say anything more. Instead, he spun around, heading into the kitchen. I could hear him banging around in there, opening cabinets, and sounding like he was digging around.
I sat quietly by the fire, stroking Takoda. “Thank goodness we made it out okay.” Despite Wade being annoying and rude, I was still thankful that we were able to make it through the storm. God knows what would’ve happened to us if he hadn’t shown up.
I guess we owe him for that.
His footsteps grew louder as he approached us again. “I figured since we’re stuck drying out and spending the night here in this shithole of a cabin, we can at least have something to drink.” He handed me a glass and sat beside me on the floor. “Here.” He opened a bottle of whiskey, pouring some into my glass.
“Straight out of the bottle.” I laughed lightly, downing the liquid. It burned, warming my chest and stomach, but honestly, it was a welcome sensation.
“Damn.” He chuckled, side eyeing me as he sipped his own. “You’re one hell of a drinker on top of a talented trespasser.”
I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disgusted, but it was no surprise. “It comes with the territory of how I was raised.” I held out my glass, nodding to the liquor still in his hand.
“Maybe we should just pass the bottle around.” He handed me the bottle instead, letting out a slight chuckle. “I didn’t realize I was drinking with a woman that drinks like a man.”
“I don’t drink like a man.” I rolled my eyes and took a long sip. “I drink like a fish.”
He burst into laughter as I handed him the bottle and he followed suit. Screwing the lid back on, he sat it on the floor in front of us before turning to me. “So where are you from in South Dakota?”
I hesitated at his question, biting my lip. “Um... I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it, but...” I took a deep breath, preparing for him to judge me. “The Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.”
He didn’t bat an eye, only nodding. “I’ve heard of it. Really vast reservation, isn’t it?”
“And very poor,” I muttered, petting Takoda, who was snuggled up quietly in my lap. “Very.”
He nodded but was quiet, picking at his soaked jeans. “So that was some storm, huh?”
I nodded, my eyes falling back to the fire. Takoda shifted and stood, heading back to the couch. “He must be getting a little too warm. Too bad I’m still freezing.”
“It’s because your clothes are soaked still,” Wade remarked, his gray eyes alighting with an emotion that stirred my core. “Mine are, too.” I swallowed hard as he stripped his t-shirt over his head, revealing exactly what I had imagined was underneath—a six-pack and the perfect amount of chest hair.
