Chapter Four

NOAH HOVERED by his car, looking back toward the cabin, chewing on his lip. Gideon made it clear that Noah was dismissed, but there was a hint of loneliness in his eyes that made Noah want to stay. He went to work clearing off the snow that had accumulated while he was there. With one last glance, he sighed and grabbed the door handle. A loud crack stopped him from opening the door. A low rumble followed another creaking sound. Noah scanned his surroundings as the rumbling grew louder.

The door to the cabin flew open, and Gideon came out. “What is going on?”

“I—”

Before he could answer, a white cloud appeared on the hillside. Noah watched wide-eyed as a wall of snow swept over the road he would have been driving on if he hadn’t hesitated. He covered his mouth with his hand, gasping as he watched the snow engulf the road and everything else in its path. Trees and debris fell, sweeping away the guardrail that was the only thing protecting cars from the cliff. The cold and shock made him tremble as he realized that the avalanche could have swept him away into the abyss below.

Gideon’s voice drew his attention from the spectacle momentarily. “There’s no point in standing out here. Come back inside.”

Noah turned toward the hillside again. “Do you think there’ll be another one?”

“How would I know? Stop staring at the mountain and come in.”

Noah went back to the cabin, too numb with shock to notice the worry in Gideon’s eyes, hidden under a mask of indifference. He hovered by the door, unsure what to do until Gideon grasped his arm and led him over to the small sofa.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Noah remembered his boots and stopped to take them off so he didn’t track snow on the floor. His mind raced. He should call someone. Who should he call? How long would it take to clear the road? Everything was chaos in his head. Noah’s heart raced, and his breath started coming faster and faster as his panic grew. He was trapped. In a cabin with the Beast.

“Noah, breathe.” Gideon’s sharp voice broke through his panic.

He drew in a breath and then a deeper one. He focused on his breathing, vaguely aware Gideon had moved into the kitchen area. A few minutes later, a cup of hot cider was set in front of him.

“I put some whiskey in it. Come on, this will help,” he said when Noah didn’t move, using a softer tone than Noah had heard from him all day.

He took a sip. A fiery combination of apple, cinnamon, and whiskey burned his throat, warming him up at the same time.

“I’m going to call the…. I’m not sure who to call and find out how soon the road will get cleared.” Gideon scratched his beard.

Noah shared the information he’d learned when he took a wilderness safety course last summer. “Fish and Wildlife. Call the Department of Fish and Wildlife. They manage most of the backcountry roads in this county.”

Gideon pulled out his phone. “Got it,” he said. A few minutes later, he held his phone to his ear, explaining to someone what had happened. He listened with a frown as he paced with a slight limp, stopping to give Noah a worried glance every few steps. “Yes. I understand. No, we have supplies. We should be okay. Yes, you can reach me at this number. We’ll sit tight and wait for your call. Thank you.”

Gideon hung up and sighed. “There were other avalanches in the valley. There are other roads with a higher priority that need to be cleared. It’s going to be a while before they can get to us.”

Noah froze. What was he going to do? He’d only been there a few hours and had already needed to rearrange Gideon’s kitchen. If he was stuck in the cabin with him for more than a day, how would he be able to deal with the stress of being trapped here?

“How… how long?”

“They’ll try to get up here as soon as possible, but it might take a couple of days.”

Noah rubbed his forehead, trying not to panic. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Hugh’s name on the screen.

“How did it go? Hopefully, you’re on the road in one piece by now.” Hugh chuckled when Noah answered.

“Um, not quite. There was an avalanche. I’m trapped.”

Hugh sucked in his breath. “How soon can they get it cleared?”

“Days,” Noah managed to choke out, the reality of his situation setting in.

“Noah, I’m sorry. This is my fault. I never should have sent you up there.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“How’s Gideon?”

Noah glanced to where Gideon was leaning against the wall of windows, staring at the snow falling outside. “Fine.”

There was a beat of silence and Hugh said, “Put him on the phone.”

Noah stood up and held his phone out. “Gideon, Hugh would like to talk to you.”

Gideon came over and snatched the phone out of Noah’s hand. “What?”

He turned his back to Noah and walked toward the other end of the room. “Yes,” he answered whatever Hugh asked in a clipped voice. “Yes, I’ll be nice,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’ll let you know.”

He handed the phone back to Noah and retreated to his spot by the windows, crossing his arms over his chest he watched the snow fall with an angry scowl.

“I promise I’ll make this up to you,” Hugh said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Make sure you call and let me know if you have any problems with Gideon.”

“We’ll be okay, Hugh, don’t worry.”

As soon as he hung up with Hugh, Gideon turned away from the window and said, “I have extra clothes if you need.”

Noah got up and rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I’m good. I have my bag. I was going straight to my rental when I finished here.”

Noah pulled his boots on and went back out to his car, the icy cold air stealing his breath away. Snowflakes clung to his hair and eyelashes within seconds. The snow was falling hard enough to cover his car with another thick layer. Rubbing his hands together, Noah blew on them and then worked quickly to grab what he needed from the back of his Bronco, including the food he’d brought for himself. Noah set the box of food on the porch and returned for his knitting basket and the down sleeping bag he always kept in the car during winter in case of emergencies. He set those items by his backpack and went back one more time for his down jacket, hat, and gloves. The snow was falling even heavier, and dark shadows stretched toward him from the surrounding woods. In another few minutes, he would only have the light from the cabin to guide him. With his damp sweater underneath, he put on his coat, shivering. He’d change as soon as he could, but first he went to the woodpile on the side of the house and filled his arms with wood. He made three trips, stacking wood by the front door, before Gideon yanked the door open.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Do you honestly think I was going to let you limp back and forth to the woodpile?” he shot back.

Gideon frowned, glaring at him for a moment before he reached for Noah’s backpack and started bringing his things inside while Noah returned to the woodpile and brought more wood, making sure the wood rack by the front door was completely filled. Thank goodness Gideon’s woodshed was well stocked; they had plenty of wood to get through the next few days. They could be stuck all winter and they wouldn’t run out. He eyed the propane tank and the solar panels on one side of the property. They’d need to be cleared in the morning, but hopefully they could provide plenty of electricity.

The thought of Gideon coming out to collect wood and clear the solar panels with his injury had his blood boiling. Noah admonished Gideon under his breath while he stomped the snow off his boots. His frustration grew every time he pictured Gideon limping out into the snow to perform the necessary chores with his injury.

“Asshat,” he muttered, brushing the snow from his hair.

“I assume you’re talking about me.”

Noah jerked his head up to see Gideon in the doorway.

“I’m too frustrated to banter with you,” Noah said, sweeping past him, eager to get back inside and thaw out. He took off his jacket and gloves and hung the jacket on an empty hook by the front door. By the woodstove, Noah carefully placed his boots and gloves in a straight line, noting how Gideon had thrown his boots to the side. He exhaled and backed away. This wasn’t his house, and those weren’t his boots. It would be okay if he left them where they were. He only made it a couple of steps back before he returned and straightened them, placing them alongside his.

The cabin had taken on a warm glow without the brightness of the snow in daylight.

“I’m sorry to intrude. Hopefully, the Fish and Wildlife guys are wrong and I can get out of here tomorrow.”

Gideon slowly shook his head. “I doubt that’s going to happen. Sorry you’re stuck with me. Probably not how you wanted to spend Hanukkah.”

“It’s fine. Hanukkah’s not my favorite holiday.”

“Mine neither.”

“Why not?”

Gideon shrugged. “Not really big on family gatherings.”

“Me neither,” Noah said with a shiver.

“You should get out of those wet things. You can take a shower or a bath, and I’ll put your clothes in the wash.”

“Are you sure you have enough power?”

“Plenty. I kind of went overboard when I had this place built. Besides solar, I have a generator and plenty of propane. We won’t have any issues. Go ahead before you catch a cold.”

Noah nodded and went through his pack, gathering clean clothes and his toiletries. In the bathroom he eyed the huge freestanding bathtub under a large window, tempted to fill it to the brim and immerse himself, but he opted for a shower instead, moving quickly even though Gideon said it was okay as he didn’t want to be wasteful. The bathroom had a large shower with a bench and fancy attachments that made Noah feel like he was in a luxury hotel. The black hexagon tile floor, white quartz countertops, and grey shower tiles blended well with the warm wood tones of the rest of the cabin, maintaining its cozy Scandinavian vibe. Out of curiosity, he opened what he thought was a linen closet to find a small sauna. Noah nodded with approval. The sauna and snow could be used to incorporate thermotherapy and cryotherapy into Gideon’s physical therapy. He smirked. The Beast wouldn’t like it, but it was an effective tool to help with his recovery, and since he was stuck here, Noah was going to get as many PT sessions in as he could. It would be good for Gideon and help keep Noah’s anxiety from getting the best of him.

Noah, warm and dry in a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved thermal T-shirt, folded his towel neatly on the towel bar. He double-checked to make sure his toiletries were all in their proper place in his kit before leaving the bathroom.

Gideon was sitting in the lounge chair by the window with a book on his lap, wearing a pair of tortoise-shell glasses. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed. The room was warm and toasty from the fire in the woodstove.

Noah watched the rise and fall of Gideon’s chest. His full lips parted, and he exhaled, falling deeper into sleep. His body needed the rest. The physical therapy session was taxing. It was clear he had not been doing any stretching or exercises that would help in his recovery.

Noah moved around the cabin, quietly organizing his things, putting his backpack in a corner by the stairs and bringing his knitting basket over to the sofa. He dug through the extra yarn he’d brought until he found a skein hand-dyed in shades that reminded him of autumn leaves. After unzipping his needle case, he pulled out a pair of circular needles in the right size for the chunkier weight yarn and started casting on. Within minutes, the rhythm of the stitching began to work its magic, soothing his anxious thoughts.

GIDEON’S NOSE twitched. Something smelled good. As his mind slowly began to wake up, his stomach rumbled. He opened his eyes, his head fuzzy for a moment before he remembered he wasn’t alone. A noise in the kitchen caught his attention. Noah was standing at the stove stirring a pot. Gideon watched him for a moment, enjoying the view of Noah’s ass in his sweatpants and the domestic scene he made in the kitchen. Still in a sleepy haze, he thought how nice it was, how this was what he’d always wanted.

“Is that chili?” he mumbled, rubbing his stomach.

Noah smiled over his shoulder at him. “It is, and there’s cornbread.”

The flip-flop Gideon’s stomach did at Noah’s smile must have been because he was sleepy or hungry. Not because Noah’s smile was so… sweet.

Gideon pulled his legs off the footstool and winced. Noah was at his side in an instant. He kneeled down, grasped Gideon’s leg, and started to gently bend and straighten it again. “Take it easy. Remember what I told you earlier? You might be a little stiffer at first, but it will get better if you stretch every day.”

Gideon nodded with a grunt.

Noah smiled up at him. “At least you’ll have your own personal physical therapist for the next day or two. It can be my way of paying for my food and lodging while I’m here.”

“You brought the food,” Gideon murmured, fighting the sudden urge to reach out and run his hand through Noah’s reddish-blond waves.

“That was Hugh.”

Noah stood up and slipped his hand into Gideon’s, then pulled him carefully to his feet. “Try to get up slower.”

Why was it that when Noah ordered him around, it didn’t make him as irritated as it did with anyone else?

“Two homemade meals. This is a first,” he said, moving back from Noah’s enticing hold. But not far enough for Noah to let go.

“You don’t cook?”

“I reheat.”

“What was your favorite thing growing up?

“I didn’t get homemade things.”

Noah wrinkled his forehead. “No one ever made you soup or cookies or anything homemade?”

“No, not really. My mother doesn’t cook. We usually had food delivered. Most nights my parents were attending some embassy dinner. When I was twelve, my parents sent me to boarding school, and I went straight to college from there, so I’ve been eating dorm food most of my life.”

“That explains why junk food is your comfort food.”

Gideon frowned. He’d never thought of it that way. The sympathetic expression on Noah’s face made his skin itch. He’d shared too much. It left him vulnerable. Time to let the Beast out.

“That doesn’t explain anything. I suppose this is also part of your babysitting trip up here. Trying to guilt me into eating right? Let me guess, you’re also a nutritionist? I can guarantee your chili will taste exactly like something from a can to me.”

Even as he was saying it, Gideon felt like an ass.

Noah’s smile disappeared as he let go of Gideon’s arm and went back to the kitchen. “Well, it’s here if you want it,” he said as he took the lid off the pot and filled one of the two bowls he had ready by the side of the stove. Gideon watched him peel back the foil from another container and pull out a cornbread muffin. His mouth watered. Noah carried the bowl over to the table where two place settings were set. Gideon looked at the empty place setting with a pang of longing before he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He gripped the edge of the vanity as he stared at himself in the mirror. “You’re an asshole.” He pointed a shaky finger at his reflection.

The right thing to do would be to go back out and apologize. Gideon wasn’t known for doing the right thing. If he said he was sorry, he might be rewarded with another one of Noah’s smiles and one of those cornbread muffins, though. When he finished in the bathroom, he came out determined to make amends. That was easier said than done. He wasn’t good at apologizing. Normally he wouldn’t care enough about what someone else thought about him. If they saw him as a jerk, what did it matter? They didn’t matter to him. He glanced at Noah. This was new. He wanted Noah to know he wasn’t really the Beast everyone thought he was. He shuffled to the stove, filled the bowl Noah left for him with chili, and carefully carried it over to the table.

Gideon sat down across from Noah. The table was so small their knees bumped. Noah scooted back, keeping his eyes down while he lifted the spoon to his lips. Following Noah, Gideon dipped his spoon into a combination of ground beef and beans, inhaling the scent of perfectly spiced tomato sauce. He closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. Noah said he wasn’t a chef, but his chili was as good as the soup he’d made.

When he opened his eyes, a golden cornbread muffin with a slab of butter melting on top sat next to his bowl.

“Did your mom teach you how to make this too?”

“I got the recipe from one of my coworkers, Thanh. He and his husband are big-time foodies.”

Noah’s voice was flat. Gideon hunched over his bowl. The right thing to do would be to apologize. “It’s good.”

“It’s fine. My chili isn’t that great.”

“It’s better than what I would have made.”

“How do you know if you never try?”

Noah’s gaze met Gideon’s, and his stomach did a little flip. He dropped his gaze, leaving Noah’s question unanswered. Noah may have been talking about cooking, but Gideon was thinking about his heart. He had tried the relationship thing, and he’d failed. There was no point in trying again. But he wanted… something more.

He set his spoon down and planted his hands on either side of his bowl, forcing himself to look Noah in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Was that a hint of approval he saw in Noah’s eyes? And why was that look enough to make him feel like he wanted to be the hero in one of the romances on his bookshelf?

“Okay,” Noah said with a nod. “Your chili’s getting cold.” He tipped his head toward Gideon’s bowl as he put a spoonful in his mouth.

Gideon’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it?” he asked, wincing at the note of surprise in his voice.

“Is there supposed to be something else?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you want to yell at me or something? You can tell me I’m a jackass. I deserve it.”

“Gideon, you apologized. I accepted your apology. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” Noah smiled. “Although now that you’ve apologized, you can have dessert after dinner.”

“You brought dessert?”

Noah nodded.

Gideon pushed the sudden desire to pull Noah into a hug out of his head. “What did you bring?”

Noah got up with a grin and opened the tin box on the counter. He returned to the table and held out a large chocolate chip cookie.

Gideon snatched it out of his hand. “You make this?” he mumbled around a large bite.

“Chocolate chip cookies are easy.”

Like everything else Noah made, the cookie was perfect. Soft and gooey, with the right ratio of chips to dough. Gideon eyed the container, trying to calculate how many more were hiding in there.

“I went ahead and made your bed while you were sleeping.”

“You didn’t have to,” Gideon said around another bite of cookie.

Taking stock of his surroundings, Gideon realized the cabin was even tidier than before. Clean laundry was neatly folded and stacked in the laundry basket at the foot of the stairs. Even Noah’s belongings sat in an orderly pile next to the sofa.

Gideon narrowed his eyes at Noah. “What’s the deal? Are you some kind of neat freak?”

The minute he saw the crestfallen look on Noah’s face Gideon knew he’d said something wrong. More than that, what he said hurt Noah. He turned away from Gideon with his arms wrapped around his middle.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to do it,” he said.

Gideon got up, remembering to go slower than he normally would. He hesitated for a moment before he put his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean anything by it. That was a thoughtless thing to say.” When Noah turned around, his eyes were wide and bright, and Gideon realized he’d almost made him cry. “Ignore me, I was being an ass. I’m sure you’ve heard it’s what I’m known for,” he said with a wry smile.

Noah still had one hand wrapped around his upper arm, with his shoulders hunched. “It’s me. I have OCD. When I get stressed out, I… being organized, having things organized, helps me feel in control.”

In that moment Gideon wished the avalanche had buried him instead of the road. “I shouldn’t have said—”

“You didn’t know. Most people think I’m… a lot.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think that, and this definitely qualifies as a stressful situation.”

“You don’t have to start being nice to me.”

“Trust me, the Beast will make itself known. I can’t seem to help myself sometimes.”

Noah cocked his head, giving Gideon a look that said he didn’t buy the excuse that usually worked for him. Instead of calling him on it, Noah moved toward the sofa.

“It’s been a long day. I’m going to roll out my sleeping bag on the couch and get ready for bed.”

“Obviously. Did you think you were going to sleep with me?”

Gideon cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He really needed his mouth and his brain to get in sync. His heart? Well, that was another situation he didn’t want to think about. If Noah hadn’t thought about sharing Gideon’s bed, the idea had definitely taken up some space in Gideon’s mind since Noah arrived. He never believed he had a type until Noah walked through his door. Blue eyes, ginger-blond hair, and freckles were definitely his thing. In the past Gideon had dated athletes, thinking that would be enough of a connection. It wasn’t.

Noah rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving Gideon too keyed up to sleep. For someone who could give a master class in pushing people away, he found he wanted to spend more time with the man none of his scare tactics worked on.

“Do whatever you want. I’m going to read for a while.” Gideon went over to his lounge chair and grabbed his book off the side table. His current read was a version of Pride and Prejudice set in the Old West. Pemberley Ranch by Jack Caldwell. The retelling of the classic story in a western setting that explored themes of race and religion had captured Gideon’s interest—until that night. He’d been turning pages for thirty minutes and couldn’t have told anyone what he’d read. While his eyes were on the page, he was totally focused on Noah’s movements around the cabin while he got ready for bed. He came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of gray long johns that outlined his lean legs, and when he turned around to put his toiletry kit back in his duffel bag, he revealed an ass that made Gideon stifle a groan. The top stretched across his chest and outlined toned arms. Noah didn’t have a muscular body, and he wasn’t as tall as Gideon, but he would fit perfectly under Gideon’s chin, and hands he knew were strong from the physical therapy session would…. At that moment Noah paused and glanced at Gideon over his shoulder, and Gideon grunted, shifted in his seat, and tried to tamp down his rebellious body.

Noah’s gaze flickered to his knee. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” Gideon turned the page.

A few moments later a clacking sound started. Gideon stopped pretending to read and saw Noah in his sleeping bag, propped up against a pillow from the sofa, a basket of yarn on the floor next to him. Gideon watched the rhythmic movements of his hands as he clacked the needles together, creating something with yarn that swirled in sunset colors. Gideon’s eyes began to grow heavy, lulled by the rhythm of the needles looping through the yarn and transferring it from one needle to the other. With a start he woke up from his trance.

He snapped his book closed. “I’m going to bed.” He started to get up, and Noah’s needles paused. Forcing himself to move more carefully than he had in the past, Gideon pulled himself out of his chair. He went to the bathroom, listening to the rhythm that started again while he brushed his teeth. When he finished he made his way toward the stairs, the needles paused again, and Gideon climbed carefully, knowing Noah was watching his movements.

As soon as he reached the loft, Gideon blew out a sigh of relief. His knee was throbbing, but the pain was welcome. He needed the physical therapy. He’d felt sorry for himself long enough, and even though Noah hadn’t pushed too hard, it felt good to have some kind of workout. Gideon realized the cabin had gone silent. He peered over the railing to find Noah carefully putting his knitting back into the basket. He squinted over the railing, trying to determine what Noah was making. When he finished putting his project away, Noah turned on his side and pillowed his hands under his head against the square accent pillow. Gideon scowled and went over to his bed to grab one of the four king-size pillows propped up against the headboard. He took note of how perfectly aligned they were and how the rest of his bedding was done like a hotel worker had made his bed. Back at the railing, Gideon tossed the pillow over the edge and let it drop onto the sofa below, where it landed with a soft thud on Noah’s head.

Gideon quickly pulled back from the railing like a naughty child when he saw Noah lift his head with a slight smile.

“Thank you,” Noah called out.

Gideon didn’t answer. He jerked back the covers and climbed into bed determined not to let Noah get under his skin… or anywhere near his heart.

NOAH HAD been awake for an hour before he heard rustling from Gideon’s bed. He was pouring a cup of coffee, remembering that Gideon doctored his with a splash of milk, when he heard a groan as Gideon slowly began to shuffle down the stairs.

Noah braced himself to face the Beast again. When he woke, he’d been optimistic that the roads would be cleared. His hope was quickly dashed when he saw even heavier snow flurries today than yesterday accumulating outside the window. He’d sent a message to the owners of the cabin he’d rented to cancel his reservation last night. They’d been understanding and given him a refund. Now he faced spending another night, the first night of Hanukkah, with Gideon. Definitely not the Hanukkah he planned.

“Morning.” Noah forced a bright smile, holding out the cup of coffee to Gideon when he entered the kitchen, receiving a half-awake grunt in response.

Based on yesterday’s experience and today’s, Noah figured it was safe to assume Gideon wasn’t a morning person, or an afternoon one, or even an evening one.

“There’s a couple of cinnamon rolls left from yesterday if you—”

Gideon grabbed the box off the counter, holding it clutched to his chest as if he were Sméagol in Lord of the Rings coveting his precious. Noah tried unsuccessfully to cover his laugh with a cough.

“What?” Gideon slumped ungracefully into his chair. Coffee sloshed over his hand as he set the cup down and shoved a chunk of cinnamon roll into his mouth.

“Nothing.” Noah turned away and poured himself another cup of coffee. He’d figured Gideon would want to start the day with a sugar fix, so Noah ate the yogurt and granola he’d brought with him. At least they had loads of food, Noah thought. Hugh had gone overboard with all the groceries he’d purchased for Noah to bring. Between that and the groceries Noah brought for his own trip, there would be plenty.

His second cup of coffee finished, Noah started pulling his ski pants over his thermals.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going cross-country skiing,” he said with a slight grunt as he tugged on a sweater. He put on his jacket and gathered his hat and gloves.

“You’ll get lost,” Gideon said with a worried look outside.

“I’m not going far. It will give you some time to get ready for our PT session.”

Gideon frowned before repeating, “You’ll get lost.”

Noah patted the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder. “I’ve got a compass, and like I said, I won’t go far.”

He left before Gideon could lodge any further protest. The snow had lightened a little, and there was even a glimpse of a bright blue winter sky. Noah slipped into his ski boots and grabbed his skis and poles, which he’d taken off his car and put by the front door last night. At the bottom of the porch stairs, he clipped his boots in, put on his hat and gloves, and started out, planning on making a wide circuit around the cabin. The powdery slow crunched under his skis, the only sound in the woods surrounding the cabin.

Noah grinned. Crisp winter days always made him happy. He turned to admire Gideon’s cabin from the tree line that ringed it. His lungs burned from the cold air as he made even strides around the cabin. Swish , crunch , swish , crunch , the steady rhythm eased some of the tension from his body. He’d slept surprisingly well and woken to the morning light filtering through a curtain of snowflakes. Noah spent a few minutes snuggled in his warm sleeping bag, watching the peaceful scene outside his window. The word that best described Gideon’s cabin was haimish , the Yiddish word that meant warm, cozy, unpretentious, and homelike. The exact opposite of the home’s owner.

That wasn’t very nice or completely true, though. Yes, Gideon was a grumpy ass, but underneath there was a vulnerability hidden in the depths of his golden-brown eyes. Eyes that were sexy even when they flashed with annoyance. And now Noah was stuck in a cabin with those sexy eyes. This wasn’t how he pictured spending his first night of Hanukkah, not that he had anything more exciting planned. He also hadn’t planned on giving a gift. Did Gideon even have a menorah to light? Noah hadn’t come across one when he reorganized the kitchen cupboards. Scanning the tree line, Noah had an idea. He skied toward a large fir tree with branches so heavy the ground was still bare around the base. With any luck, he might find what he needed. He stepped out of his skis and stuck them upright in the snow bank beyond the tree base.

“Yes,” he said with a little fist bump, seeing pine cones littered around the tree.

A soft whinny made Noah pause gathering pine cones. He cocked his head, listening. There it was again. He pushed away the pine branches from the tree he was under.

An older man on horseback squinted at him, adjusting the cowboy hat on his head.

“Hello,” Noah said.

“Came to check on the other young fella,” the man said in a gruff voice. “Careful you don’t stray too far.” He squinted at Noah some more. “You hiding under that tree for a reason? I ain’t seen no mountain lion tracks nearby.”

“I was gathering pinecones.” Noah realized how foolish he sounded the minute the words came out of his mouth.

“Pinecones ain’t gonna keep you warm. You need firewood.”

“They’re not for firewood. It’s for a menorah.”

The man scratched the back of his head, looking at Noah questioningly.

“For Hanukkah,” Noah offered.

“I ain’t never heard of it.” He jerked his thumb toward Gideon’s cabin. “You got enough supplies? It’s gonna be a few more days before they dig you out.”

“Really? They said it would be a day or two.”

The man shook his head. “You got eight days to show that one the way.” The man’s horse whinnied, and he patted its neck as he turned it around. “Another storm headed this way. Y’all watch yourselves,” he called out over his shoulder.

“Wait,” Noah shouted, scrambling out from under the tree. But the man had already disappeared into the woods.

Noah looked down at the pinecones in his arms and then up at the sky. What started as a crystal-clear bright blue sky had morphed into blue-gray clouds. He frowned, looking back toward the woods, unable to find any hoofprints in the snow.

“What the hell was that?” he said in a hushed voice, his breath coming out in a frosty puff. He realized he hadn’t seen the same puffs coming out of the man’s mouth when he spoke, or the horse’s nostrils. “I don’t believe in ghosts, do I?” He waited, as if someone was going to answer. But it was just him alone trying to make sense of what had happened.

You got eight days to show that one the way.

Was he talking about Gideon? Noah shook his head. He wasn’t sure about finding his own way in this world, let alone guiding someone else. But that didn’t mean the hurt he saw in Gideon’s eyes didn’t tug at his heartstrings. It was why he was standing under a tree with an armful of pinecones.

As the sky grew darker, Noah put the strange encounter out of his mind and hurriedly collected pine cones, carefully putting them in his backpack before he clipped back into his skis to make his way back to the cabin. The snow had begun to fall again when the cabin lights came back into view. Noah took his skis off and propped them against the side of the cabin with his poles, then made a trip to the woodshed before he went inside. The door jerked open as soon as he added the armload of firewood to the pile. Gideon stood in the doorway, his hair still messy from sleep, a stray curl caressing his forehead. He’d changed out of his pajamas into a long-sleeve T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, and the black joggers he wore outlined his muscular thighs. Thighs Noah would have his hands on soon.

Happy Hanukkah to me .

“What are you doing?” Gideon barked.

“Making sure there’s enough firewood.”

“Noah, look at the pile. There’s enough here for two or three days.” Gideon narrowed his eyes. “You’re one of those people who gets nervous when your gas tank gets below half, aren’t you?”

Noah felt his cheeks grow hot. “Maybe.”

Gideon rolled his eyes and stepped back. “You should come inside and warm up.”

The cabin was toasty. Bright orange flames danced in the window of the woodstove. Noah took off his boots, hung his coat and backpack by the door. He set his hat and gloves on the slate tiles that surrounded the fireplace, crouching down for a moment to warm his hands by the fire.

“I’m going to take a shower, and then I hope you’re going to be ready to work,” he announced when he stood up.

“Whatever,” Gideon said in a huff, sitting in the lounge chair by the window and picking his book up again.

After a quick shower, Noah put Gideon to work. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Gideon’s face was pinched and drawn, showing the discomfort he refused to admit while Noah guided him through the exercises that would heal and strengthen his knee. Some discomfort now was a small price to pay compared to more pain and delay if Gideon didn’t heal properly and had to have surgery.

Gideon was breathing in low, shallow breaths as Noah bent his knee. “A few more reps and we’re done, and then you can spend some time in the sauna.”

Gideon kept his eyes squeezed shut and nodded as he struggled through the last few repeats.

“Good,” Noah said and handed him a towel. “We’re done. I’ll get the sauna going.”

When he returned, Gideon was still on the floor with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths through his nose. With a grunt Gideon sat up, his legs stretched out in front of him. Noah knelt next to him and guided him onto his uninjured knee. Gideon grasped his hand in a tight grip with a groan as he stood up. He swayed slightly, leaning his shoulder against Noah’s. Without thinking, Noah put his arm around Gideon’s waist. “I’ve got you.”

Gideon took a couple of slow steps and then stiffened. “I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Reluctantly, Noah let his hand slip from Gideon’s waist. Gideon may not need the help, but Noah’s heart told him he needed the support. He kept his eye on Gideon until he was in the bathroom with the door closed. While he was in the sauna, Noah dug the pinecones out of his backpack, along with a wide, flat piece of kindling he’d found in the woodshed, and went to work.

By the time Gideon came out of the shower, Noah had a pot of vegetable soup warming up, with a simple green salad to go with it.

Gideon lifted his nose in the air. “Smells good.”

“There’s a bowl of Doritos.” Noah pointed to the cereal bowl he’d left on the table. “You were a good boy during therapy. You earned a reward,” he said with a sly smile.

Noah noticed Gideon’s gait was better as he went over to the table and snatched up the bowl with a glare.

“The soup needs a few more minutes if you want to rest.”

“Okay,” Gideon said with a mouthful of chips. Noah could hear him crunching away as he finished their lunch, but he wasn’t worried about Gideon spoiling his appetite.

“You don’t have to cook for me,” Gideon said when Noah eventually called him to the table.

Noah raised an eyebrow and set a plate of salad next to the bowl of vegetable soup Gideon had attacked as soon as he sat down. “Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have had Doritos for lunch if I wasn’t here?”

“No comment,” Gideon muttered. “This is good. How many soup recipes do you have?”

”Not that many. This one’s really easy.”

“What’s your favorite one to make?”

“I don’t know. It changes depending on what I’m craving, I guess. What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

Gideon continued gulping down the vegetable mixture in a rich tomato broth with orzo. “Right now, this soup. I like the croutons and parmesan cheese you put on the top.”

An actual compliment. Noah bit back a smile.

“Don’t get cocky about it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. You shouldn’t play poker. I can tell everything you’re thinking.”

“Oh, really?” Gideon’s comment gave Noah an idea for another Hanukkah present.

The winter light was already fading, and the snowflakes outside the window seemed to get larger instead of slowing down. Winter in the Pacific Northwest meant darkness fell by late afternoon. There would be only an hour or two of daylight left.

“You made lunch, I’ll clean up,” Gideon announced, picking up Noah’s empty bowl and stacking it with his own.

A belly full of warm soup and watching the falling snow had Noah’s eyes blinking slowly. “Thanks,” he said around a yawn.

He rolled out his sleeping bag and lay down, and his eyes drifted closed. Noah realized that in spite of being trapped with the Beast, he felt warm and safe in Gideon’s cabin.