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would be Jasper.
    From outside the vehicle came a few clangs, then curses.
    She’d cleaned their breakfast pan as best she could with snow, and was contemplating boiling water for the cocoa packets she’d found when Jasper yanked open the front door to try the engine.
    Fingers crossed, she held her breath while awaiting the results.
    The engine turned three times, but didn’t start.
    He cursed under his breath, then headed back outside.
    What if the fix was too complex to manage in the field? It happened all the time. Usually, operators radioed for help and it proved no big deal. In their case, everything was a big deal.
    She hopped out of the cab to join him. “Anything I can do?”
    “No, thanks. Get back inside, so you’re at least out of the wind.” Though it was nowhere near the speed that had induced yesterday’s whiteout conditions, it was still brisk.
    “Jasper, please. I want to help.”
    “Then get inside, so I don’t have to worry about you and the engine.”
    While his brusque demeanor didn’t exactly fill her with warm fuzzies, she’d been around enough guys at the station to understand that for most, working on engines wasn’t anyone’s favorite chore.
    Trying not to take his anger personally, she climbed back into the vehicle to start the camp stove. Jasper loved cocoa. He’d probably never admit it to the tough-guy former SEALs he worked with, but he especially enjoyed mini-marshmallows on top. Grinning at the naughty memory of what they’d once done with the tasty morsels, her cheeks overheated.
    She lurched in surprise when the driver’s-side door opened and Jasper gave the ignition another try.
    Ruh, ruh, ruh .
    More cursing.
    “I’m making hot chocolate,” she said. “Want some?”
    “No. What I want is for this stupid-ass engine to start. I’ve checked the hydraulic lines and plugs—everything looks good.”
    “I don’t mean to get in your man-business, but I was out with a team a few years back, and we got stuck in a blizzard. The cat crapped out on us, and to make a long, cold story short—I remember this, because while shivering, a friend and I were joking about craving warm carbs like cookies and brownies, when—”
    “I’m freezing. Could you please get to the punchline?”
    “Stop being snippy. I’m trying to help.”
    “I know, babe. Sorry. But the longer we sit here, the more time Leo has to find us. Or, we could just turn into human popsicles. Neither scenario holds much appeal.”
    “Okay, well, my friend and I were joking about carbs, but our driver checked the carburetor and found a ring of frost around some thingamajig. Started with a V. Ventricle? Venus? Sorry—can’t remember.”
    “Venturi?”
    “Maybe? I really don’t know. My friend was on engagement-ring watch, so we’d turned the ring of frost into dreaming of diamond rings.”
    “Right.” He sharply exhaled before heading back outside, slamming the door behind him.
    She’d never seen his cranky side and didn’t especially like it.
    But then this was also their first life-threatening experience.
    How would he take the news that she was essentially a dead woman walking? Oddly enough, she’d made her peace with it. It was easier. There was no sense dwelling on what was to come. And she sure wouldn’t spend whatever time she had left hugging a commode. Her poor mother had been sick to the extreme. A bag of bones, clinging to life for her little girl and husband. By the end, Eden had been glad to see her go, because she could no longer bear witnessing the constant pain in her eyes.
    Eden used the backs of her gloves to blot tears from her eyes before they froze, then swallowed the knot in throat. The here and now was all that mattered, so she returned to the pleasantly mundane task of lighting the propane camp stove, then retrieving snow to thaw and boil.
    By the time she’d made two mugs of hot chocolate, Jasper was once again tugging open the door, then easing behind the wheel.
    She crossed