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key halfway to the lock. “I refuse to look and see, but tell me this much, are all the cabins still standing behind me?”
    He glanced over her shoulder again. This time his eyes narrowed. “Define standing.”
    “That’s what I thought.” She bit back the groan rumbling up her throat and fighting to get out. “Then my only other choice is to fix up the place and try to catch part of ski season and be at full speed in time for the hikers and climbers to arrive in the spring.”
    “Are you handy?”
    She was lucky if she got through the day without dropping anything. Some might use the word clumsy . She preferred distracted . “I can recognize a hammer in a tool line-up.”
    “That doesn’t really inspire confidence.”
    She’d forgotten how laughter danced in his eyes, about how much she wanted to trace her finger over that strong jawline when they stood this close. She cleared her throat. “My life is currently spinning out of control, and you are part of that, in case you’re wondering, so my only goal is to hang on and not throw up.”
    “I say we do everything to make sure you keep that goal.” He took the cabin key from her.
    At the touch of his hand against hers, heat flushed through her skin and made her head spin. Whatever energy arced between them at the hotel still had some life left in it. She vowed right then to keep her clothes on and her hands to herself whenever he was around.
    The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. They both stood at the threshold and peeked inside. The silence ticked on as she shut her eyes and opened them again. Nope, still a dump. Actually, that was disrespectful to dumps. This place hoped to one day be nice enough to be considered a dump.
    A steady plopping sound vibrated through her. “What is that noise?”
    “Probably a leaky sink.”
    “At least it has running water. Score one for me.”
    “Stopping the leak is an easy fix.” He put his shoe against the doorjamb and it splintered under his foot.
    She thought about ducking just in case the roof caved in. “Uh, let’s not do—”
    “As opposed to the rest of the place, and keep in mind this is the cabin that’s in good condition.”
    He wasn’t wrong. The threadbare red and blue rug in the middle of the floor looked older than her. She hoped the dark stains on the couch pressed up against the right wall were something other than blood. Since Uncle Ned always had a mug with him, she decided to pretend all dark puddles were spilled coffee.
    The kitchenette at the far end consisted of a dorm-size mini-fridge, a sink with cabinets underneath and a hot plate. Good thing her idea of cooking was limited to warming things up.
    Panic snuck up and slapped her. “Wait, where is the microwave?”
    He slowly turned his head and stared at her. “That’s really your only question here?”
    “I heat things. Without a microwave I’ll have to eat cereal for every meal.”
    “Then there’s the part where you’ll be out here, on your own, as buildings fall down around you.”
    “Aren’t you just Mr. Sunshine?”
    He pressed his hand against the wall and it seemed to cave under his palm. “Maybe you should tackle the foundation problem before you do an appliance checklist.”
    The man had a point but she chose to ignore it. Running was not her style. It was also useless when you didn’t have anywhere else to go, and she sure didn’t.
    Following his lead, she moved carefully, toe first before putting down her full weight and ignoring the way the wood crunched underneath her. A few steps more and she stood in the middle of the family room, which also happened to be part of the bedroom and only few steps away from the door to the left of the kitchen. Part of her hoped that was the bathroom. A bigger part of her hoped it wasn’t. She dreaded peeking inside.
    She mentally revisited the idea of sleeping in the car. It couldn’t be that much colder than being inside this place.
    He suddenly stood next to her with his