The Cabin - SAMPLE

Chapter 1 - SAMPLE

"Where is he?"

Sacha paced across the living room.

Breathe, Sacha.

She scratched her head, not able to get her mind off her husband and what he was doing at that very moment. Every time she thought of him, dread surfaced.

She tugged aside the sheer white curtain. Damn. It was already snowing outside. The weatherman said earlier that a snowstorm was coming and would arrive either tonight or early the next morning.

Why wasn't he here yet? Did something go wrong? Was Mark okay?

Or . . . was he with her?

She glanced at her watch-her husband should have arrived an hour ago. The last thing she needed was him being stuck in the storm. Every minute or two, she eyed the telephone on the kitchen wall, considering calling him. She couldn't think straight with all the terrible thoughts wrecking her mind.

"Just one call," she tried to convince herself. Maybe he intended to call, but didn't find the chance. If she called now, it would save him from calling. It made sense, perfect sense.

Dialing his cell number, she placed the white corded phone to her ears. Please pick up . . . Plea-

"Hello?" Mark answered.

"Mark! Thank God you're okay." She released a breath, rubbing her forehead. The sound of his voice alone eased her mind.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Where are you?" she asked, twirling the cord with her fingers. She could hear the anxiety in her own voice. He always had her on edge like that.

Silence.

"Mark?"

Silence. She wondered if the line had gone dead, but then she heard Mark's breath hitch.

"Are you okay?" His background was eerily quiet, and it didn't sound like he was driving or anything. "Are you almost here?" she asked anyway. Utah was a few hours from California, but if he'd left when he was supposed to, he should arrive soon.

"Sweetheart . . ." he began in a low tone.

At that moment, Sacha knew she was in for some gut-wrenching news. Holding her breath, she listened to what her husband had to say.

"I, uh . . . I can't make it today. I missed my flight. Will see if I can get in on Sunday."

Her fingers lost color as she tightened her grip around the phone's handle. She'd known it was coming. The disappointment. But somehow, it always hurt more than she expected.

"Sunday?" she yelled into the mouthpiece. "Mark, I told you this a month in advance. We planned this. You agreed! Saturday is our anniversary, not Sunday . . ."

"Sacha, calm down. It's only two days. You make everything sound like a problem. I promise I'll be there by Sunday."

Promises. That was all he made these days. She had an entire box filled with his promises. "Mark, today is Thursday, which means I would spend tonight, Friday, Saturday, and part of Sunday alone in this cabin. What's the reason for this?" Mark had told her he canceled all his plans for the rest of the week. Did he lie? Did he lie just so he could have her away from the house? That good for noth-

"I'm sorry I have to put you through all of that, but . . ." His voice trailed off as if interrupted by something in front of him.

"But what?" she asked.

After a few long seconds, "But I have some very important business clients I have to deal with first."

Clients? "I thought you postponed all meetings for the rest of the week? Why do you still have clients?" It was her. Deep down, she knew it was her.