Chapter 7 Tristan
TRISTAN
Tristan’s glasses frosted up the moment he stepped outside, turning the world into a blurry fog. He took the glasses off and rubbed off the ice with his fingertip, only to have them ice immediately up again when he put them back on.
Tristan wished he’d been bold enough to come out as a bear when he saw how much fun Darla and Breck were having in the snow.
His overall snow pants pinched at the shoulders, and he hadn’t fully tucked them into his boots, so snow immediately fell in and melted down to make his socks damp and his feet uncomfortable.
He tried to enjoy the experience anyway, and he eventually figured out how to keep his glasses from frosting with each breath.
Snow really was as wonderful as he’d hoped.
It was gorgeous and it didn’t feel anything like rain when it fell on him, so light and fluffy and silent that everything seemed a little unreal.
The experience soured slightly when his snowball hit Gizelle in the face because she darted in front of his real target, and for one godawful moment, he was sure that Conall was actually going to kill him.
It would be easy enough to bury his body in snow, and they wouldn’t find him until spring, probably. But Gizelle popped happily back up to her feet with Conall’s help, and her laughter was Tristan’s death row pardon.
Saina and Bastian put on skis, but Tristan didn’t want to be a third wheel with them, so he just watched the slow, subtle sunset and drank in the beauty of the view before turning to look at the chalet behind them.
It was a gorgeous building, all wood and windows and private porches, with deep roof overhangs that made a great deal of sense given the quantity of snow.
It pleased his sense of beauty as well as practical appreciation for its sturdiness and attention to detail.
Pretty, his bear said gratefully. His own vision when shifted was quite poor, and he always appreciated being able to see through Tristan’s glasses. Good place to den.
Starving for something useful to do, Tristan joined Alice and Graham in shoveling, even though the snow was still falling.
They cleared all the major paths and part of the driveway around the van before Alice declared, “This is useless! It’s snowing too fast to keep up with!
” The place they had started was already several inches thick again.
Tristan did a little more around the side of the house, and thought he saw a blind twitch in the room that must be behind the locked door.
He told himself that there could be any number of reasons for that.
Maybe the blinds were right above a furnace vent.
It didn’t mean someone was lurking around watching them.
Conall had been very specific about having complete privacy when he rented the chalet.
The clouds thinned at the horizon just as the sun went down, turning everything shades of orange and gold, filtering through the falling snow with a deceptive look of warmth.
“The sunsets are longer here because of the tilt of the world,” Gizelle said dreamily, snuggled up next to Conall. “So time has less meaning.”
No one corrected her, and Tristan thought it was a rather poetic interpretation anyway.
As it finally got dark, they all went back inside, stomping off their boots and shaking snow from their hats and shoulders. The fire was crackling merrily, and there was cheerful Christmas music playing on invisible speakers.
“What smells so amazing?” Alice wanted to know, shrugging out of a big coat.
“Chef has outdone himself, I’m sure,” Magnolia said. She sounded as pleased and proud as if she was making the meal herself.
Breck and Darla shook snow off of their fur and shifted.
Darla dressed swiftly, without undue concern for her brief nudity.
Breck, however, made a show of finding and putting on each article of clothing.
“Such a shame to cover all this up,” he teased, one leg in the air as he pulled on a sock.
“That’s the real downside of living in cold climates. ”
Tristan went out to get some more wood to stack beside the fire before he took off his own coat. The sky changed colors and got darker with each trip, and the snow seemed to fall thicker and faster. He could barely see where they’d shoveled and walked already.
It was a jolt, going in and out.
Outside was still, mysterious, and cold. Inside was joyful, noisy, and warm, everything bright and jovial. His glasses fogged up in both directions, but Tristan was used to compensating for his vision.
“Gizelle, he’s kicking! Come feel!”
Gizelle threw herself over the back of the couch to lay a hand on Lydia’s stomach. “Oh, he’s fluttery!” she said. “Are you ready to come out and fly, little kitten?”
“Not yet,” Lydia said with a chuckle. “I’ve got a whole month to go, don’t go giving him ideas.”
Chef came out with a pitcher and some mugs to warn that dinner would be served in twenty minutes, and he passed out cider. “This one is spiked. If you need a top off, I’ll come back with the unadulterated apple, Lydia.”
“Can I help with anything?” Tristan asked quietly as he accepted a cup and Chef splashed fragrant golden liquid into it.
“I’ll handle drinks,” Breck interrupted. “They’re fully stocked, so the sky’s the limit.”
“I believe that a merlot would pair well,” Chef offered, ignoring Tristan. “There were a few bottles of a good looking Sonoma County brand we should pop open.”
“Just water for me,” Lydia said, waving her cup.
“And me,” Wrench growled.
“You don’t have to join me in abstinence,” Lydia said warmly. “This is a special occasion.”
“It ain’t a hardship,” Wrench insisted. “I’m doing this whole journey thing with you.”
“Would you join me in virtuous abstinence, my darling?” Breck asked Darla, fluttering his eyelashes at her.
“If it’s shorter than five minutes, it doesn’t count as abstinence or virtuous,” Darla pointed out.
“Why is purity so hard?” Breck complained theatrically.
“Don’t bring hard into it,” Darla teased him.
Breck gave a shout of laughter and kissed her soundly as everyone chuckled.
“Get a room,” Graham said, throwing a pillow at them.
“I’m holding hot liquid!” Breck protested, pulling his mug out of range of the feather-stuffed missile.
“No one wants to know about your hot liquids, Breck!” Alice laughed.
Tristan followed Chef into the kitchen, still hoping he could find a way to be useful.