When I finally woke up again, I still felt a little groggy, but not quite as lethargic. I was disoriented, still trying to figure out where I was. You were no longer sitting by my bed. I tried to piece together everything you had told me.

You said we got stranded. How did you find us a place to stay? Was this someone's home? It didn't seem abandoned, but how did we get in? I'm sure I had been asleep for many hours – was the storm over yet? I knew it must be the next day, but it was almost dark. Was it morning or evening?

I reached up to touch the bandage on my head. I winced as my fingers pressed on the cotton. The cut still felt tender, but my head wasn't pounding anymore.

I sat up carefully and waited to make sure I wouldn't have another dizzy spell. Then I stood up, reaching for the opposite wall to help steady me. I reached for the doorknob, my hand shaking slightly, and I opened it to reveal a larger bedroom with two double beds. The ceiling was slanted and steep, like an attic.

Next to the bedroom I had been sleeping in was a narrow opening in the floor that revealed a staircase. I ventured over to see if you were downstairs.

I carefully stepped down onto the top step – the staircase was so steep it was almost like a ladder. There was no railing, so I gripped the rough log wall. It felt just like I was sliding my hand along a tree trunk. I could swear I still smelled apple spice cake wafting up from the room below. My feet had just touched the floor below when I caught sight of you in front of a small stove.

I still had no idea what exactly was happening, although it only took a glance outside to see that it was snowing quite hard. It was so strange – snow was a common sight in North Dakota this time of year, but it looked like quite the blizzard outside. It seemed so odd that I hadn't heard anything about an impending storm of this magnitude. I was very much accustomed to the snow, but I was also trained to check the weather before embarking on any outdoor adventure.

I realized that, regardless of the circumstances, I was stranded here with you for the time being. I cleared my throat and you spun around, surprised. 

“All right, love?” You asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat when I heard you say that, remembering that, yes, you had rescued me after my tire blew out. But I had remembered meeting you before and I had been wondering if you were following me.

“I...I don't know. I'm still not sure what's going. I'm...I'm a little freaked out, actually.” My lip was trembling, but I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to maintain control. I didn't want to appear weak or afraid.

“No need to be scared, love. We're safe here.”

“Where's here?” I asked. It didn't seem that anyone else was in the cabin.

“This is my place.”

“I thought you said you lived in Grand Forks.”

“I have an apartment there. This is my family's place.”

“Where's your family?”

“They're dead.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said and you just nodded. “Do you have a phone? I think I lost mine and I really have to let someone know where I am. I'm sure they're very worried about me.”

“I don't have a phone,” you said, looking away.

“Dammit!” I said, and I noticed you flinched at my raised voice. “Do you know how long the storm is supposed to last?”

“I don't know,” you said, opening the stove and pulling out a small baking pan. “Are you hungry?”

“No!” I snapped. I was starting to panic, realizing that I had no way to contact my family or friends. They would be worried sick by now since I hadn't shown up at Frost Fire, and someone had undoubtedly found my car abandoned on the side of the road by now. “I'm sorry, I just really need to contact someone, to let them know I'm okay. Do you have a computer? I could at least send an email.”

“No computer. Sorry, love.”

“Ugh!” I blurted out in frustration. The situation was maddening. “I really appreciate you helping me, but my family and friends will be worried sick! Can you think of any way I can contact them?! You have electricity. Don't you have a land line?”

“A land line?” You asked.

“A phone line wired into the house. I assumed you would have a phone line if you have electrical lines.”

“It's a generator,” you said simply. You weren't being very helpful. You just kept stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove.

I blinked hard, still trying not to panic. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to know the answer, but I had to ask. It came out in a cracked whisper. “Where are we?”

“We're in Canada. The road to Frost Fire was blocked.”

That didn't sound right, but when I looked outside again, sure enough, there was a near blizzard raging. I figured we must have been just north of the border, maybe near Emerson. We couldn't have gone too far in a blizzard.

“What day is it?”

“Friday.”

“Friday. The 28th?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god! I slept for two days!? My family and friends must be frantic! I really, really have to go! Please, please can I just use your car? I know how to get down to Frost Fire from here. Just tell me how to get back to the highway. I'm a really good driver and I promise I'll be careful with your car! I just...oh, my god! They're going to think I'm dead or I've been kidnapped! Oh, my god!” I was practically screaming, pacing, frenzied in the small kitchen.

You had been leaning against the sink, but then you came to me and put your hands on my shoulders. “Everything will be okay,” you said. “I promise you that you're safe.” Your eyes, they were so beautiful. You seemed so calm and so confident. And the smell of whatever you were cooking was so comforting.

Still, my stomach was twisting into knots, thinking about my friends waiting for me, looking for me, not hearing from me. “They must be worried sick,” I said, trying to blink back the tears, but it was no use. I gave in and let them fall freely.

“I'm sure they are. But let's wait til morning, shall we? I could never forgive myself if you got lost in the dark.”

“So, it's been snowing for two days now?”

“I'm afraid so,” you said. “Started coming down heavy just after you fell asleep.” Something in the way you said that made me uneasy. I remember feeling so drowsy and then just passing out in the seat of your SUV.

“I suppose. But I doubt I'll be able to sleep anymore. I can't stand the thought of my family and friends not knowing where I am. What if they think I'm dead?” It was kind of a rhetorical question, I guess. I didn't really expect you to answer that, and you didn't.

Instead, you offered me some of what you'd been cooking. I sat down at the little bar in the kitchen and you brought over a small cast iron kettle. When you lifted the lid, I smelled chicken rice soup. And the pan that you had pulled out the oven. It looked just like apple spice cake.

“What is that?”

“Bread,” you replied simply.

“It smells just like my grandma's apple spice cake,” I said, and my stomach growled as you ladled some soup into a small tin bowl and sliced a bit of the bread, placing a chunk on my plate.

The soup was quite good. I was pleasantly surprised. None of the men in my life could cook, so I assumed it would be bland, but it was quite flavorful. When I took a bite of the bread, I was stunned. It tasted exactly like Grandma's apple spice cake, right down to the hint of ginger and lemon that my grandma always added.

“Where did you get this recipe?” I asked.

“Internet,” you said simply.

“But you don't have a computer or a phone,” I said, testing you.

“Not here. I have a laptop back at my place in Grand Forks. I'm not entirely backwards,” you laughed. “But I do enjoy the simplicity of this place.”

“It is a nice place,” I agreed as I devoured the soup and the bread. “You wouldn't happen to have any milk, would you?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound too greedy, but milk sounded perfect with the bread that tasted just like Grandma's cake.

“Dry milk,” you answered.

“Ughh, no thank you,” I said and you laughed.

“How about some water?” You asked. I nodded.

You opened the tap, letting the water run for a few seconds, and then you filled a small tin cup with liquid. I drank it down fast, only then realizing how thirsty I was. You refilled it for me three times.

As I finished my meal, I evaluated all the pieces of information I had just learned. When you first picked me up, I knew that I had run into you before. But now it seemed to make more sense. You lived in Grand Forks, so it wasn't impossible that I could have run into you around town. And this cabin had to be only an hour from the campground in Winnipeg, maybe closer, depending on where exactly we were. I started to relax when I realized that it was just a coincidence that you had come up behind me right after my tire blew out. 

A very lucky coincidence, considering the blizzard raging outside. I could have been stranded in my car instead of sitting here in this warm cabin with delicious food. I began to relax a little. It wouldn't do any good to worry about my family and friends at this point. There was simply nothing I could do but wait until the storm blew over.

“Thank you,” I said. “For helping me.”

“You're welcome,” you grinned, and your smile made me feel even warmer than the soup. “I think it's time for me to ask you another question, though.”

“What's that?”

“What's your name?”

I laughed lightly, realizing that I'd been sitting there for almost an hour and we really didn't even know each other's names yet.

“I'm River,” I said, extending a hand to you, as if it was really necessary to exchange such a formality after we'd been chatting for so long. “River Tatum. And you are...?”

“Zayn,” you replied simply, shaking my hand with a little chuckle.

Once my belly was full, I remembered that I didn't have my luggage. I had left it in my car, thinking I would be getting it fixed and be on my way. But I did take my purse with me when you picked me up. I asked you about it and you said it was under the bed where I had been sleeping. I rushed upstairs to find it, just in case my phone really was in there and I just hadn't seen it in my flustered state after the blowout.

I dropped to my knees and pulled my purse out from under the bed. My parka was there, too, along with my hat and gloves. I dumped my purse onto the bed and I failed to find my phone among the contents.

You came into the room and asked if you could show me around.

“Sure,” I said, feeling dejected.

You reached your hand out for mine and I took it. We went out into the bedroom that was outside of mine. There were two full-sized beds that sat low to the ground. They had old wooden spindly frames and they were covered in matching patchwork quilts. There was a table between them with a small old-fashioned lamp on it.

Next to the bed on the far side of the room, there were two large wardrobes. You showed me the inside of one, where there were extra blankets and pillows as well as a massive amount of clothing. It was stocked completely full. While you held the doors open, you pulled out a henley shirt, a pair of flannel lounge pants and a pair of wool socks.

“Here, these should fit you if you want to wear something more comfortable for sleeping,” you told me.

I took them and they felt so soft, I wanted to change right away. But you insisted on showing me around downstairs. It seemed pointless since I had already been downstairs and it was all one big room. But I followed you anyway, since you were trying to be a good host. The kitchen was tiny but very well stocked. You showed me what was inside all of the cabinets, which seemed odd at the time. I wasn't planning on moving in, but I just played along. A pantry door was hidden in one of the log walls. When you opened it, I was shocked by the amount of food that was stocked there. There were countless boxes and bags of rice, oatmeal, flour, sugar, granola bars, salt and spices. There were cans of tuna fish, chicken, condensed soups. There were bags of dried fruits – apples, mangoes, raisins. I also noticed a shelf full of candles of all sizes – tapers, pillars, votives, and a giant box of matches.

The small living area had a loveseat and one recliner situated near the fireplace. Behind the recliner, you revealed another hidden door, but this one led to a room that was more like a walk-in closet. You pulled the string from a light on the ceiling and it flicked on. There were shelves stocked from floor to ceiling, mostly with books. I noticed a few other supplies in there, but I didn't look very closely.

“I thought you might like to read,” you said.

I furrowed my eyebrows a bit when I looked at you. You acted like you never had company. 

I mumbled a quiet thanks and then asked, “Do you have an extra toothbrush? I left everything in my car.”

You nodded with a smile and then led me to the bathroom. You opened yet another hidden cabinet that held a ridiculous amount of toiletries, including about ten toothbrushes and perhaps twenty tubes of toothpaste.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?” I asked, suddenly realizing that I must have been getting pretty ripe after being in the same clothes for two days.

You nodded and pulled a towel out of the cupboard, handing it to me. I still had the clothes you had given me in my arms, so when you left, I locked the door. I would have to wear the same undergarments. But when I began to get undressed, I was disgusted by the thought, so I threw them in the sink and ran some water over them. I found and pumped a bit of hand soap into the sink and swished them around until the water was sudsy. I would just have to go without undergarments on, I supposed. At least for the time being.

I turned on the water and let it run until it was hot, which wasn't exactly hot, but at least it was warm. I expected it to smell like sulfur, like the showers at the campground in Winnipeg. But it smelled clean and fresh. I couldn't wait to wash my hair and face and body. 

I wondered how the hell I slept for two days. How did you get me into the cabin from his car without me even waking up?

I must have hit my head hard enough after the first time I tried to get up that I ended up sleeping for a long time after that. I wondered if I had a concussion. I felt much better than I had before, but why would a simple bump on the head make me sleep for so long?

My brain was getting tired of the questions, and I realized I really wanted to sleep again. I quickly finished the shower, dried off and then ran my fingers through my hair. I had seen hair brushes in the wall cabinet, but I didn't want to use all of your things. So I just combed through the snarls with my fingers. I rinsed my undergarments and hung them on the bar outside the shower, hoping you wouldn't mind.

“I think I'm going to go back to bed,” I told you and you smiled again. You were so incredibly handsome, and even more so when you smiled. I found myself wondering if you had a girlfriend.

“Need anything else?” You asked.

“No, thank you. Will you please wake me up first thing in the morning? I mean, if I'm not awake. I really have to get back to my friends and let everyone know I'm okay.” I was afraid I'd sleep for another two days if you allowed me to.

“Of course,” you said, squeezing my shoulder. I looked right into your eyes, and I saw something troubling. You seemed upset somehow. Scared, possibly? I shook it off and went up the stairs toward my temporary room.

I laid down in the soft bed with questions still swirling around in my head, but sleep soon took them away.