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Chapter Six
“Well, I think we’d better make ourselves a decent meal if we’re going to be stranded here for a while. None of us have eaten anything much in the last twenty-four hours,” Dante said, digging around in the makeshift kitchen. “I’ll go and get some more snow so we can start melting it and we’ll try cooking some of this pasta on the log burner.”
He shrugged into his waterproofs and headed for the door. The wind had dropped in the light of day, but thick, heavy snowflakes still swirled silently through the sky and Dante’s colorful curses drew the attention of all of them.
“Shit on a stick!” He muttered as he pulled the door open.
Lazarus whistled and Shyla looked over her shoulder to see a drift which reached halfway up the door.
“Well, at least you don’t need to go out,” Jericho remarked as his brother shoved the huge pan he’d found into the snow and closed the door again, before the drift could fall inside and wet the floor. They’d done a good job of keeping it dry so far. But the depth of the snow didn’t bode well for them getting out of here any time soon. And it was certain to hamper the rescue efforts that were already going on.
Shyla bit her lip. “You know,” she started tentatively. “You three could make your way down the mountain when the snow stops. I’ll be perfectly okay here at the cabin now I have the fire and a roof over my head.
“Absolutely not!” Jericho rejected the idea out of hand without even stopping to think about it.
Shyla sighed. “Well, perhaps one of you could stay with me then, so all three of you don’t have to be here babysitting me. Especially if it’s going to be a few days without much in the way of food.”
“No!” The vehemence in Dante’s voice made Shyla jump. She couldn’t quite work him out. He certainly didn’t seem to want to be there, which was one of the reasons she’d made the offer. So it surprised her that he was the one to shun the suggestion so fervently.
Lazarus and Jericho threw him a look and there seemed to be a silent conversation going on between the three of them for which she didn’t understand the subtext.
She shrugged it off. They were going to be stuck in close proximity to each other for several days. Maybe more if the weather didn’t improve or the other rescues didn’t go well. It would become unbearable if they didn’t try to get on.
“Fine,” she replied easily. “I’m not going to pretend that I wouldn’t prefer company. I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to be here if there was a chance for you to get out. Especially if we don’t have much in the way of supplies.”
“Don’t worry about it, Shyla,” Lazarus said as Dante put the large cast iron pan on the top of the log burner to melt the snow and boil the resulting water. “We’ll manage. There’s more stuff here than we expected.”
“Not that a lot of it’s much good for anything,” Dante muttered under his breath.
Shyla frowned and looked from one to the other. Talk about mixed messages. “What do you mean? What sort of stuff are you talking about?”
“Dante found a kind of pantry that we’d overlooked last night,” Lazarus explained. “He’s just peeved because it’s not the treasure trove he was hoping for.”
Shyla brightened. “Oh! Can I see?” she asked hopefully. She pushed herself into a sitting position and scooted to the edge of the sofa so she could ease herself into standing on her good ankle, but Lazarus had moved before she could finish the maneuver and offered his hand to help her.
“You should be staying off that foot,” he rebuked mildly.
“I know, but I’m going nuts sitting on my ass for so long. I need to stretch my legs and get my circulation going. But I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“Damn right you will,” said Jericho, moving from his position beside her and taking her other hand. “Here, lean on me,” he insisted. “And let Lazarus steady you.”
She found herself sandwiched between the two of them, which honestly wasn’t a bad place to be, as they helped her hop across the room. She could hear Dante omitting some kind of muttering growl underneath his breath and couldn’t help wondering what his problem was. But his brothers took no notice, so Shyla did the same.
Lazarus pulled a curtain aside and revealed a surprisingly deep recess which looked like a pantry. There was a row of anti-critter bins and when she peered inside she found various sacks of staples. Flour, lentils, salt, dried milk, egg powder and sugar as well as the pasta Dante had mentioned. On a higher shelf there was a large drum of cooking oil, and big pots containing dried mushrooms, dried onion, and dried herbs.
“Oh, but this is great!” Shyla enthused. “There’s loads we can do with these ingredients.”
Jericho gave a wicked snicker. “You’re obviously a better cook than Dante then. All he did was curse when he saw this stuff.”
Shyla looked over her shoulder and caught Dante glowering. “Don’t worry,” she said lightly. “I can teach you a thing or two.”
Dante just stared ominously, and Shyla felt a blush steal up her cheeks. “Sorry, that didn’t quite come out the way I meant it,” she added in a voice that came out as a squeak.
Lazarus laughed. “Don’t worry. If Dante’s not keen you can teach me, instead.”
“Me too,” Jericho murmured close to her ear.
Shyla felt a shiver slither down her spine. She wasn’t altogether convinced they were talking about cooking any more.
