He got out of bed and pulled on his pants. He grabbed a clean shirt and slipped it over his arms. He opened the bedroom door and peered out. Natalie was sitting at the table typing. Ticketa, ticketa... She didn't see him.

Howie moved quickly to the bathroom. Should he have a shower or go out and face her? Get it over with? No, he decided. He had a shower every day and this would be no different. He would act like he owned the place. He grimaced at the mirror...or had at least rented it for the next two weeks. He had a shower and did his morning routine. Satisfied that he was ready to face the day...and the girl...he opened the bathroom door and stepped out. "Good morning," he said.

Natalie was no longer at the computer. She had shut it down when she heard him in the shower. She had moved about the room, sitting in this chair and then that one, standing at the counter, first on one side and then the other, trying to find the spot that would give her the advantage. She finally settled on the kitchen side of the counter. Yes, that was it. It made her seem to be in charge. That's what she would do, she decided. Act like she owned the place and treat him like a guest. A guest who would be leaving shortly.

"Good morning," she responded. "I'm sorry I can't offer you coffee, but I don't drink it."

"I prefer tea, anyway," said Howie, walking past her to plug in the kettle.

"Me too," she said. "I have some here."

"I have my own," said Howie. "In the car." He walked out the front door and returned with a box of groceries. He dropped it on the counter and left again before Natalie had a chance to stop him. He returned with a guitar case and a briefcase. "There!" he said with satisfaction. "All moved in."

"Well, you can just 'all move out'", said Natalie, indignantly. "This is my place for the next month."

"Well, I'm staying here for the next two weeks. You can leave and come back for the last two."

"No, you leave," said Natalie.

Another staring contest let them both know that the other was not going to back down.

"Get your contract," said Natalie, finally.

"Fine," said Howie, moving to his briefcase. Okay, then, that was the way it would be. "Whoever signed the contract first gets the cabin. Deal?"

"Deal!" said Natalie.

Each of them flung the contract down on the counter and they said together, "June 7."

What? No, this wasn't possible. They picked up each other's contract in disbelief.

"Looks like we'll have to get lawyers involved," said Howie, hoping that would intimidate her into giving up. He should have known better.

"Typical man," she retorted. "Threatening to bring a lawyer into it."

Howie felt ashamed and angry at the same time. Typical man? What did that mean?

"Why don't you do that?" Natalie continued. "Why don't you go into town and find a lawyer and sue me? Come back when it's all settled and let me know how it turned out."

They stood toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. The whistling of the tea kettle brought this latest battle of wills to an end. Howie moved to the kettle and Natalie walked into the living room. She stood with her back to him looking out the window.

"Do we have any milk?" he asked, opening the fridge.

"No, we have to get some," said Natalie absently.

They stood for a long moment, not looking at each other, turning the pronouns over in their head. Finally, they each gave a long sigh and turned to each other.

"Look, Howie..." Natalie began.

"Natalie, I think..." Howie started.

"No, I want you to listen to me," she said, holding up her index finger to silence him. She paused and then began again. "I believe that I am in the right here and..." She raised the finger again to stop his protest. "...and I believe that eventually, that would be proven. But I don't have time for that. I have a deadline to meet. You obviously have work to do too, so is there some kind of compromise that we can reach...some way to resolve this situation?"

Finally, thought Howie, finally she was being reasonable. He had enough sense not to say that out loud. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I think we can do that. We are both here to work, as you say. We should be able to come up with some sort of schedule that will suit us both."

Natalie didn't really care about suiting him. She just wanted to get the whole thing over with so she could get to work. She'd gotten a lot done this morning while he had been sleeping. If he slept in every day...

"I've started a list of things we need," she said. "Why don't you drive into town and get them and I can..."

She didn't get any further. Howie's slow shake of his head let her know that he was onto her.

"I don't think so," he said. He smiled at her. "I might just find myself locked out when I get back."

"I wouldn't," she said, but she blushed. "Okay, then...we'll go to town together. What do you have in the box?"

They passed a reasonable half hour discussing groceries, going over the contents of his box and her supplies. They made up menus for the next three days and agreed to split the cost of the food down the middle.

"I need to buy a power bar to set up my printer," said Natalie when they were done. "I'll pay for that myself, of course." Howie nodded. Okay. He held up his car keys. I'll drive? He wondered if they were now going to have a battle over whose car to take, but Natalie just nodded. Fine with her. She picked up her purse and they walked to the door. She locked it carefully and dropped the key into her purse, wondering if he would take issue with her keeping it. He didn't.

"Well, do you think we can do this without having to put a line of duct tape down the middle of the cabin to separate our two halves?" Howie asked, with a grin, opening the car door for her.

"I hope so," said Natalie, "because I...uh...need...um...I don't have a shower in my bathroom. I'll need to use yours." She had settled for a sponge bath this morning because she didn't want to wake him, but she liked to start her day off with a shower. And a long day of typing usually ended in a long soak in the tub.

"What do you have on your side to trade for the privilege?" Howie gave a smile that he hoped was charming. Natalie thought he looked smug.

She thought for a moment. "Closet space," she said, finally.

Howie thought that over. "Okay," he said slowly. "Closet space for shower privileges. Deal." He held out his hand. She shook it and got into the car.

They drove down the hill and turned out onto the road. They both looked back at the entrance, hoping they'd be able to find it again when they came back. Natalie suggested that maybe Howie should take his shirt off and tie it around a tree to mark their path. He laughed and they took an infinitesimal step toward harmony.

"How did you find it?" he asked.

"I didn't. I was hopelessly frustrated and all set to turn back to town, when a Good Samaritan happened by." She smiled at the memory of Ty in his jeans. "A local farmer. Sheep."

"You're lucky. I did have to go back to town...where I got treated like the village idiot. Or should I say, the Big City Idiot. 'What's your problem, boy? Too many trees?'" Howie shook his head ruefully. "They didn't actually say that, but you could tell that's what they were thinking."

Natalie laughed. "And what big city are you from?"

"Orlando. But I have a place in L.A. too. I spend a lot of time there. How about you?"

"The Big Apple," she answered. "New York City."

"Oh, got a loft in SoHo?" he asked. He didn't mean it to sound as sarcastic as it did.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," she said primly. And that was the end of that conversation.

To fill the gap of silence that got more and more oppressive and threatened to crush them both, Howie turned on the radio. He fiddled with the buttons, trying to find a station. There weren't many and they were all country and western.

"Keep your eyes on the road," said Natalie. "I'll do it."

"I don't know where everything is yet," said Howie, apologetically. "It's a rental car. I got it at the airport."

"Well, I didn't think you drove all the way from Florida," responded Natalie. She didn't mean it to sound as sarcastic as it did.

"Of course not," he said primly. And that was the end of that conversation.

Both were relieved when they passed the sign that said "Welcome to Big Timber. Population 1804." They drove past a couple of streets, each looking down them to see what was there. Not much. Finally, at the third street, Howie turned right. "McLeod St. I think this is the main area," he said. He pulled the car into a parking spot.

They got out of the car and looked around. It was Tuesday, mid-morning, and there wasn't a lot happening. Natalie figured that most of the population resided on the surrounding farms and that's where they would be right now. "Pretty town," remarked Natalie. Howie smiled. Yes, it was.

They walked along the street, surveying the shops. The buildings were all neatly-kept and many looked freshly painted. Spruced up for the tourist trade, Natalie guessed. She and Howie kept their distance from each other as they walked. Howie had his hands shoved in his pockets. Natalie had her purse over her shoulder and was gripping it with both hands. They ambled past Rue's TV and Appliances and Little Timber Quilts. They looked in the windows of Ace Hardware and Pioneer Antiques. They saw a pizza parlor, Prospectors Pizza, and a fancier restaurant all done up like a saloon. The Grand. But no grocery store.

"Where did you get your groceries?" asked Howie. "I bought mine in Butte. There was a mall just past the airport.

"Same here," said Natalie. "I had to pick up the printer. I didn't want to bring one on the plane, so I arranged to get one here. There was a grocery store beside the Staples."

"Well, there must be one here someplace," he said. "They must eat something besides sheep."

"I don't think they eat the sheep," said Natalie. She didn't mean for it to sound sarcastic.

"Excuse me," said Howie, stopping an old man on the street. "Can you tell me, is there a grocery store in town?"

The old man looked him up and down. City Slicker. The thought was written all over his face. "'Course there is, young fella, what do you think we eat? You want the Big Tiga, over on 3rd St. It's just round the corner, next to Crazy Jane's."

Howie thanked him politely and they walked back to the car. Just round the corner might mean a lot of miles in Montana. And there would be groceries to be carried.

"Did he say Big Tiger?" asked Natalie.

"That's what it sounded like," said Howie. "Nope...it was Tiga...there it is. And there's a parking spot out in front." They both felt that city folks feeling of joy that went with a parking spot within sight of the final destination. They also both felt a little foolish at how close the grocery store was to where they had originally parked.

Natalie looked around. There was a small park across the street. Two old men sat on a bench under a tree playing checkers. Crazy Jane's turned out to be a restaurant, one for the locals, she guessed. There didn't seem to be a theme to it, just a small café with gingham curtains. Through the window, she could see several people nursing coffee cups.

They went into the grocery store and shopped, buying all of the items on the list. They even found the power bar. Howie pushed the cart and Natalie filled it. They set the items on the conveyor belt at one of the two checkouts. There was no express line here. There were also no other customers. There was just one teenaged boy in a green apron stocking shelves and there was one cashier. The cashier, her name tag said Jackie, was a short, middle-aged woman with gunmetal grey hair that was so tightly curled to her head that it looked like steel wool. She ran the groceries through at lightning speed, not looking at one price tag or the keys on the cash register.

Howie reached for his wallet. "I'll get this and we can settle up later," he said. Natalie didn't want to do that. It meant she owed him something right from the start. "I only have large bills," he continued. "I need to get change." She nodded in reluctant acquiescence.

The door opened as a young mother with two small children came in. A delicious smell wafted in after them. Cinnamon! It reminded Howie and Natalie that they hadn't had anything to eat so far but a cup of tea and a shared helping of crow!

"That smells good," said Howie.

Jackie laughed. "Crazy Jane's cinnamon buns. They're delicious. There's probably eight or nine guys sitting over there now waiting for them to come out of the oven."

Natalie and Howie looked at each other. Shall we?

"Go try 'em," said Jackie. "I'll bet you a buck you take some home with you."

If Jackie hadn't convinced them, the smell from the restaurant would have. When they stepped into the street, they both inhaled deeply. "Heaven smells like that, I think," said Natalie. Howie nodded. They loaded the groceries into the trunk and went into the restaurant. The men who had been lingering over coffee were now munching away on warm cinnamon buns. Howie and Natalie ordered tea and buns and agreed that it was the best thing they had ever eaten. They bought half a dozen to take back with them.

The drive home was more comfortable than the drive in. It was settled. They were doing this together. They had the cinnamon buns to prove it. In their minds, they both made a conscious decision to try and get along. They didn't have to fight each other any more. They could do this. They talked about the town and the cinnamon buns and when that conversational well ran dry, they sat in comfortable silence.

Howie slowed the car to a crawl when they got to the bend and Natalie peered carefully out the window. Still, they almost missed it. "There it is," said Natalie suddenly and Howie hit the brakes. He swung the wheel hard right and found the road.

At the top of the hill, they came into the clearing. Leaning against his white pickup, with a frown on his face, was Ty Harper.