In The Arms of a Stranger by Kristen Robinette

seen him fully in the light. He was handsome. Not the pretty-boy handsome of her maleco-workers at the news station but an honest, rugged handsome that matched his imposing size. His face was reddened from the cold, and his dark hair was sprinkled with snow.
    Dana blinked, realizing she’d been staring. “It’s incredible.” She turned back toward the window, embarrassed at her abstract reaction to his announcement.
    â€œAre you okay?” Luke asked.
    She glanced at the baby, still sleeping soundly on the mattress. She’d awoken this morning to the chirping of birds, an odd, cheerful sound against the backdrop of all they’d experienced last night. She’d gently risen from the bed and followed the sound to the window. There she realized that the birds weren’t cheerful at all, but squawking and flittering over the frozen ground in frustration.
    Even they knew the situation was dire. So why wasn’t she panicking? Why didn’t she have sense enough to be afraid instead of noticing that Luke’s eyes were an incredible shade of blue in the morning light?
    It had to be a reaction to the overdose of stress she’d received in the past twenty-four hours. A sort of final surrender to a situation that was out of control. An image of Gonzalez flashed in her head. The situation had been out of control for some time.
    She’d just faced it alone until now.
    Dana forced a smile. “I’m okay.” Her gaze went to the baby, and Luke’s eyes followed.
    As if on cue, the baby turned his head against the mattress and sighed, his tiny fingers caressing the sheet. There was an almost tangible relief in the room, and Dana realized that both she and Luke had been watching the baby in anticipation, looking for some reassurance that he was okay.
    â€œI’m going to stack this next to the fireplace.” Luke shifted the firewood against his chest.
    Dana looked at the firewood, then at the space heater that faithfully hummed a steady stream of warmth into the room.
    Luke read her thoughts. “I’m afraid the power won’t last much longer.” He nodded toward the window. “The trees are coming down like crazy. But there’s at least a cord of dry wood outside.”
    â€œYou left the cabin?” Her words conveyed the wave of panic she felt.
    â€œThe wood is stored under the porch. I didn’t go far.” He watched her intently for a moment. “The snow has blanketed everything, and there’s no shelter other than this cabin for miles. If anyone were out there, it would be obvious. I want you to stay inside, keep away from the windows. But that’s just a precaution. We’re safe here.”
    Dana nodded. “I guess I’m still a little shaken.”
    â€œAre you hungry?”
    She was. In fact, she was starving, which surprised her. Her appetite had been a casualty of the roller-coaster ride that was her life as of late. “Actually, yes.”
    â€œI found some canned goods in the kitchen.” Luke took a few steps toward the other room, then stopped, looking over his shoulder. “If your tastes aren’t too elaborate.”
    She wanted to laugh. She’d eaten at every upscale Atlanta restaurant by the time she was eight. And had been thoroughly sick of it by the time she was eighteen. Her aunt, who had never planned on raising a child and certainly never planned on cooking a well-balanced meal based on the food pyramid, had nonetheless taught her the finer points of dining out. Not the most maternal of lessons, but her aunt had never tried to be anyone other than who she was. Dana may have craved more, but she appreciated her aunt’s honesty.
    Still, the first thing she’d bought after moving into her own apartment was a cookbook and a set of cookware. Tenyears had passed and she could now make corn bread and pot roast with the best of them.
    â€œThanks.” Dana ran her hand through her hair, and