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resources to treat. Please stay under the quilt. Are you
cold now?”
    Startled at
his insistence on keeping me warm, as well as the disappearance of his lazy
drawl, I was too truthful. “No, not really.”
    Damn, that was
a missed opportunity. But I’d remember it for later. Maybe I could get him to
wrap himself around me again. Even as I had the thought, my heart sped up. What
I was planning was downright wicked, and I’d probably go straight to hell, but
that was better than back to Bethel City. I’d take my chances.
    Russ tucked
the quilt in around me anyway, but got up himself to stoke the fire again and
look at the dwindling supply of foodstuffs for something for lunch.
    “How about
chicken noodle soup? That ought to warm you up inside, too,” he said.
    I didn’t care.
None of what was in those cans was going to taste good, but it was nourishment.
“Sure. You called me Charity,” I accused.
    Russ turned
around to look at me with those blue, blue eyes under raised eyebrows. “I guess
I did. I guess you’re not acting like a wildcat anymore.”
    I grinned. “If
I did, would it make you call me Kitten again?”
    Russ turned
back to the stove and the soup he was stirring, but I heard him mutter, “I will
never understand the female of the species.” Good. If I could keep him
guessing, I could probably sneak up on him with a seduction attempt.
    §
    After lunch,
Russ searched the meager contents of the cabin for a deck of cards, as
promised. I couldn’t have been more surprised when he actually found one. What
is this place , I wondered.
    “Russ, what is
this cabin for? Surely you don’t live here all the time. Why is there food,
water and wood here?”
    “You could
probably call it a line cabin. Here in Wyoming, the cattle ranches are too big
to ride across in one day on horseback. When the cowpokes go out to round up
the herds for winter, they need a place to stay overnight. The ranchers keep
them stocked.”
    “Oh. Lucky you
knew where it was, huh?”
    “I suppose it
was.”
    I thought some
more about his story. He had gone for a vehicle with a winch. Where? What was
he driving when he saw me go in, if that was true? And would some of those
‘cowpokes’ or the rancher come around before the storm ended, and see the smoke
from the stove maybe?
    Should I wait
on my plan, hope for someone to rescue me before I had to sleep with Russ to
rescue myself? Ha, that was silly. I’d already ‘slept’ with him. My ass could
still feel the warm imprint of his rigid shaft. Actually, that was kind of a
turn-on. Interesting.
    Russ was
shuffling the cards, over and over, patiently waiting for me to stop
woolgathering and get ready to play. I guess he thought my brain was still half-frozen,
which could prove useful. I allowed my eyes to come into focus on his face and
gave him my brightest smile. “Are we going to play or not?” I wanted to see
which way he took that.
    “Sure,” he
said, crinkling his eyes at me as he smiled back. “Wanta play gin, or somethin’
else?” Okay, we’d play it straight, for now. He was thinking of the cards, and
that would use up some time.
    “Gin’s fine.”
    “What do you
want to play to?”
    “One hundred
points is traditional, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah, but I’m
thinkin’ that’s gonna make for a short game.”
    “Oh, you do,
huh? I happen to be a gin rummy card shark,” I boasted. With little other
entertainment approved in Bethel City besides reading, card games were
something that families could do together.
    “Well, then,
let’s go to five hundred.”
    “Go for it.”
Famous last words.
    We whiled away
the afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the quilt wrapped and
tucked around me, and Russ looking awfully darned cute in his jeans and flannel
cowboy shirt. When we reached five hundred points, with Russ winning handily, I
asked if it was time for dinner yet.
    “We could have
some dinner now, if you want to go to sleep early. It’s only about