short story on interchanability of gender roles

Cathy was still sitting by the fire when her brothers had gone to bed. They offered to stay out with her, but she insisted that they get some sleep and assured them that she would join them in a little while. Besides, she needed some time alone. Since her and her brothers started out on the backpacking trip two days ago she’d been with them non-stop. She figured that this was probably going to be one of, if not the only time she’d get to be alone, and she wanted to take advantage of it. Throughout the trip, she had to juggle conversations with her brothers and the thoughts she was having about Michael and what had gone wrong with their marriage. Her brothers knew about the separation (they invited her on the trip as a way of getting her away from the turmoil back home) and tried to console her by conversing with random small talk, and reminiscing about their childhood/ adolescence. Cathy appreciated their intentions, and was grateful that she had brothers that cared enough about her to take her along with them on their annual camping trip, but what she needed was time recover and reflect. The trip was a distraction from this, not a means of liberation as her brothers had intended. But her brothers were right about one thing, the Alaskan wilderness was sobering. And as she stared at the fired, her thoughts about Michael seemed to assimilate with the rising smoke, rising until it was yielded by the altitude and was no longer smoke anymore, but was transformed into an atmospheric molecule. The fire mesmerized her, and she couldn’t explain why either. It was as if the fire had triggered a prehistoric instinct within her that caused her to sit in simple rapture, unblinkingly absorbing the fire’s slow choreography.
After an indiscernible period of time, Cathy noticed that their wood supply was beginning to run low. Without hesitation, she got up and ventured off into the forest. After her first round, she only managed to scrape up some kindling and mid-sized wood, but each time after that she would progressively come back with better and better wood. She would navigate by moonlight, her eyes on a swivel, rapidly scaling different areas for prospective wood. Once she found the wood, she would gather it, and haul it back to camp, always aware of her position, never for a second doubting her sense of direction. It was as if she was functioning on the same instinct that female salmon rely on when they swim upstream every spring to the spot where they were born, in order to give birth to their young. Once she finished gathering the firewood, she made a fire that lasted until morning.
Her brothers woke up before Cathy and were had already started cooking breakfast by the time she woke up. When they first came out of the tent they were stunned at the size of the fire and also at the size of the firewood pile beside the tent.
"It’s a good thing Cathy collected wood last night" Jack the older brother said, flipping pancakes on a portable skillet with a spatula. "I didn’t realize the wood we collected would burn up so quickly."
"Yeah really. If she didn’t keep it alive, who knows what could have wondered into our camp" responded William the younger brother, washing mud off his pants with a wet rag.
"Man what a good woman she is. I can’t believe Mike did that to her"
"Well Cathy got him back pretty good", chuckled William.
"Yeah" replied Jack returning the chuckle "Is he still in the hospital?"