Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Taylor

The rain has turned into a soft drizzle by the time we wake up the next morning. 

Isabel makes a face, "Great."

I feed another log into the fire, "Let's wait till it stops."

"Are you sure?" She looks relieved as she looks over her shoulder from where she's standing by the barn doors.

"Yeah," I warm my hands. "No point in getting drenched again. I doubt Lowenstein's going anywhere soon."

Isabel doesn't argue, returning to the fire and slipping inside her sleeping bag.

"Have you always had such a problem with the rain?" I ask her, curiously.

Isabel shrugs, "I don't like it. My parents never used to leave my side when it would rain. Even when I was inside the house. Mom would make hot cocoa, and Dad would wrap me in this huge red blanket and read me stories till it stopped raining."

"Well, I don't have a red blanket," I smile at her.

Her face flushes and she looks away, "I wasn't asking for it!"