“Cold?” “A little.” “I think I can fix that.” She rose and walked to the supply closet. Grabbing a stack of blankets, she moved to the gap. She formed each of the blankets into long rolls. Then placing them end to end, she used them to block out the wind. On her way back to Con she took all of the remaining blankets from the closet. Setting them beside Con, she went back for an armload of bottled water, protein bars, and flashlight batteries. Next she spread out five blankets one on top of the other. Her coat and Con’s formed two sloppy pillows. “There. Now we have a bed. We can use the blankets we have around us for covers.” Visibly tense, Con eyed the makeshift mattress. “Twisted ankle or not, if I get into bed with you, I don’t plan on sleeping. Are you certain that’s what you want?” Her heart quickened. She licked her suddenly dry lips. She thought about the cold, hard, musty, silent, lonely night she’d spend if she were alone in this shack. Then she thought about nestling warm and soft, the sweet murmurs of passion and hearts shared in the glow of flashlights.
