Starry Night

her, his tone cold. The air seemed to vibrate with tension.
    “Actually, no … I tried to pretend it was a natural parting of the ways. I was in Chicago, working for the newspaper, and he was back in Seattle. But it hurt,” she whispered. “He married a friend of mine six months later, and I was a bridesmaid in their wedding, and I had to pretend it didn’t matter.”
    Finn turned around and looked at her for an extra-long moment, frowning as if to gauge whether she was telling the truth. Carrie held his gaze and didn’t flinch before moving into the kitchen, feeling the need to sit down. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and she bit into it, wanting to disguise how upset she was.
    Hennessey sat down by Finn’s side, and then after a few minutes walked over to where Carrie sat at the table. She petted his thick fur, trying to think of what to say to ease the tension. They were trapped here together, and she had to do something to make it tolerable.
    “We’ve both been hurt, but it isn’t the end of the world.”
    He snorted.
    “Can we put this conversation behind us?”
    His back was to her again, and he shrugged.
    “Do you play chess?” she asked.
    “No.”
    “Scrabble?”
    “No.”
    What do you play?”
    “Solitaire.”
    “Oh.” The hand of truce that Carrie had extended had been solidly slapped.
    Several tense moments passed before he exhaled harshly and said, “Do you play cribbage?”
    “My grandfather taught me,” she responded. If they could find common ground, it would help pass the long hours of being cooped up together until Sawyer arrived. “I’m not much good, but I’d be willing to give it a try if you’d like.”
    He hesitated and then went into his bedroom and returned with a cribbage board and a deck of cards. Sitting down at the kitchen table across from her, he removed the cards from the box and shuffled.
    Carrie was grateful they weren’t destined to spend the entire storm at each other’s throats. “Go ahead and deal. How about coffee?”
    He nodded.
    Finn had dealt the first hand by the time she returned. Carrie looked at her cards, discarded two, and so they started. Luck was with her and she narrowly won the first game. Finn regarded her skeptically. “I thought you said you weren’t much good at this?”
    “Did I?”
    Sipping his coffee, Finn tried to hide his smile, but Carrie saw it and smiled back. “I believe it’s my turn to deal.”
    Keeping his eyes on her, he slid the deck of cards across the table.
    Shuffling the cards, Carrie glanced up and smiled ever so sweetly. “Women aren’t stupid, you know.”
    “I never said they were. Heartless, yes, but a few I’ve happened upon showed meager signs of intelligence.”
    Carrie suspected he was purposely attempting to bait her. “I’ll add chauvinist to the long list of words that best describe you, Finn Dalton.”
    “Better word would be realist .”
    “Oh, puh-leese.” She drawled out the word and laughed despite herself.
    Finn did, too, and the surprise of hearing his amusement caused her to fumble and lose control of the cards, which scattered across the tabletop.
    “You should laugh more often,” she said, gathering together the deck.
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really.”
    His eyes shone, and despite his grizzled appearance, she found him strongly appealing. If he were clean shaven and his hair groomed, he might even be considered handsome. She must have been staring at him because he frowned and barked, “What?”
    “Oh, sorry.” Carrie quickly looked away and dealt the cards.
    “You’re staring at me.”
    “I know.”
    “Why?”
    This question was harder to answer. She couldn’t very well admit she found him intriguing, and so she said the first thing that came to mind. “I want to remember what you look like, and I doubt you’d let me take your photo.”
    He immediately frowned. “For that article you intend to write?”
    Instead of answering, she kept dealing the cards and then waited while he cut the deck.
    The second game proved they were well matched. Finn won, but not by much.
    “Tie-breaker?” he asked.
    “Of course,” she responded. It surprised her how much she enjoyed this mini–battle of the sexes with him.
    After shuffling the cards, he dealt.
    “Do you do anything special around the cabin for Christmas?” she asked.
    Frowning, he glanced at her above his hand. “It isn’t even Thanksgiving yet. Why are you asking about Christmas?”
    “I guess it’s on my