Just then, the lights flicker. Right before going completely out.
Katie
This cannot be happening. I’m in a pitch-dark cabin with a stranger and a baby. And now I’m stuck here until morning?
“I need to go to the shed and turn on the generator. Are you going to be okay in here alone?”
I blink, tears filling my eyes. I don’t think he’s joking. I really won’t be leaving anytime soon. I’m just grateful the tree didn’t smash down on my car.
“Hey, uh…” Kutter clears his throat, his hand resting on my shoulder. It comforts me — as crazy as that sounds. But it feels good to know I’m not in this alone. “Don’t cry. It’s just the power. Not life or death.”
I look at the gash on his forehead. Kutter fought wild cougars for this baby. My heart tightens at the thought, how scary it must have been. How quickly he must have moved into action to keep this baby safe.
He may be a burly mountain man… but it’s clear he’s a softie at heart. He risked his own flesh for her safety.
“If you fought off cougars, I can handle the dark for a few minutes,” I tell him with shaky breath.
He squeezes my shoulder. “Good. You girls will be okay. Go sit by the fire so you don’t get cold. And let me get you a flashlight.”
He rummages around in a cupboard for a moment, and then a large flashlight illuminates the room. He hands it to me, pausing for a second as if he wants to say more. I swallow, wishing I knew what this man is thinking. He’s stuck with the two of us for the rest of the night.
“I’ll be right back.”
After Kutter leaves the cabin, I prop the flashlight on the table and lay the baby back in the dresser drawer. Quickly, I change her from the dishcloth diaper, and put her in a clean sleeper. I’m guessing she is all but four months old. Patting her belly, I reach for my cell phone in my bag, then I dial Lorraine to give my boss an update. But I have zero bars, and no way to contact her.
“Guess we’re off the grid for a night,” I say. The flickering embers in the fireplace soothe me as I look around Kutter’s cabin. At first glance I thought it was simply a rustic bachelor pad, but I realize everything he owns appears to be of good quality. Thick wool blankets on the back of a brown leather couch. A bookshelf lined with books. A hunting rifle hanging by the door, and a kitchen that has been recently remodeled — it flashes with modern appliances way fancier than the ones I have in my apartment. It relaxes me a bit, seeing that I’m not in some creepy backwoods cabin for the night.
I pick up the baby, wishing she had a name, and rock her in my arms, trying not to get my heart too invested in her. It’s hard not to — when you hold an abandoned baby in your arms, it’s instinctive to want to protect it, care for it. Love it.
But this is just my job, and she isn’t mine. Still, it’s hard not to dream. Closing my eyes, I pretend for just a moment that she is.
It’s what I want, deep down — a baby to love, to nurture. A chance to give a little one the childhood I never had. I became a social worker for a reason — I grew up in the system, shuffled from home to home, and the social workers who made sure I was safe were my superheroes.
I wanted to be a hero to someone, too.
Kutter’s been gone a long time and I start to worry, looking down at this baby, who has soft black curls around her face, dark eyes and long, thick lashes. Her skin is the color of glittering sand and she is nothing but perfection.
Someone left her.
My heart tightens, memories of my earliest years surfacing. I try my best to push them away, startling when the lights flash on, as if as a reminder of where I am. Right now. Here, in a cabin, with two strangers.
“Katie, you all right?” Kutter calls as he pushes open the front door, drenched from the rain, his cut still bleeding.
He looks like he’s been through hell. Mud covers his jeans and shirt. His cheeks.
“Did you fall?” I ask, settling the baby back in the drawer and stepping toward him.
He groans, running a hand over his hair. “I keep getting beat up by the elements. It’s destroying my image of being a tough mountain man.”
“What got you this time?” I ask with a smile, his heroic nature shining though the injury. He went out in the middle of the storm so we could have power. God, he is so freaking sexy, risking his life for us.