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considered herself a submissive there was something alluring about having someone hold her accountable. She tried to imagine what life would be like with a man like Mason Carter, but stopped herself.
    “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “There’s no way…”

    Chapter Four

Christmas Day dawned cold and windy. But the snow had let up. Still, Lydia gasped when she looked out the window of the cabin. The drifts were halfway up the glass.
    “Oh my god, we’re literally snowed into the house!” she said.
    But Mason was already working on that. She found him outside shoveling a path through the piles of snow.
    “Wow,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee she’d made. “You look like Moses parting the Red Sea. Or you would if the Red Sea were frozen.”
    He took the coffee, laughing. “Thanks,” he said. “But Moses had a long white beard and I’m something of an agnostic.”
    He lifted his cup to her. “Merry Christmas, Lydia.”
    She lifted hers back. “Merry Christmas, Mason.”
     The stood sipping in silence for a moment. The snow had muffled everything. She’d never heard silence so…..loud.
    “I could make breakfast,” she said. “I’m a pretty good cook, and I don’t want to just stand around doing nothing.”
    “Sounds great,” he said. “After we eat I’m going to work on getting the radio working. It was down yesterday and you need to get word to town that you’re OK. I’d imagine your family is worried.”
    “Me too,” she said. “I tried my cell this morning. I don’t know why I thought today would be any different than yesterday.”
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure we get word out.”
    His assurance was reassuring. Lydia went back inside and got to work in the kitchen. She fried sausage patties, unsure of what they were made of, and - after reading directions - managed to make powdered eggs for sausage and egg omelets. Something in the pantry was marked “hominy.” She thought she’d heard of that before but since she wasn’t sure how to prepare it she left it alone. She served the omelets with stewed apples.
    Mason approved, and wolfed down the breakfast. Lydia cleaned the breakfast dishes as he worked on making contact with town. She was relieved when she heard him make contact and tell the dispatcher that he had Lydia St. Clair at his cabin. She wrote down contact information for her family, which Mason passed on. Lydia heard the dispatcher say her mother had been calling frantically since she’d failed to arrive at the airport.
    She brushed a tear from her eye.
    “Look at it this way,” Mason said. “The news will give her Christmas back, right? Something to celebrate?”
    She nodded. “I just feel so stupid for doing what I did.”
    “Well, I can’t argue with that. It was stupid. But even an experience like that isn’t a waste if you’ve learned from it. Just think how special next year’s holiday will be now that you all know what you could have lost.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “How about we cut that tree.”
    Lydia knew he was trying to cheer her up and managed a smile. Mason was happy to see it. He’d had a feeling that under the defensive, self-centered exterior there was a nice person trying to emerge.
    He found some snowshoes in her size and they trekked as far from the cabin as they could until they reached a patch of small fir trees. Lydia watched as Mason easily felled the smallest one and then trudged along beside him as he brought it back to the cabin. She helped him bang the snow off the branches on the porch. Her hands and feet felt like blocks of ice, and she marveled at how he seemed to take everything in stride.
    Mason nailed two pieces of wood crosswise into the base of the tree and stood it in the empty corner of the main room.
    “How are we going to decorate it?” she asked.

“Wait here.” He left and emerged with a small box of ribbons and a few ornaments. “I picked these up on