Chapter Three
ASPEN
“What a weirdo,” Aspen whispered to herself as she shuffled over to the fireplace to start the fire. “I cannot believe he stuck his foot in the door like that.”
She grabbed the complimentary basket provided by the lodge and pulled out the note.
“Dear Guest, please enjoy your cozy cabin experience offered here at Mynt Peak Resort by building a fire with our Cozy Fire Starting Package. Please follow the instructions provided to ensure the best fire is lit so you can enjoy your Cozy stay.”
Aspen scoffed and grabbed the kindling bundle tucked neatly inside with the starter bricks, ignoring the piece of paper.
She lit a match, held it to the kindling, and watched it catch fire before coaxing it onto the starter brick.
As it slowly burned and the embers glowed, she bent over and gently blew on it until it was blazing.
She would add more of the split logs provided in the woodpile next to the fireplace once the starter brick was fully lit.
But just for good measure, she threw the note on the fire and watched it turn to ash.
It was utterly ridiculous that instructions were provided on how to start a fire when a starter brick was included.
I mean, you could just light the paper, and that would be enough.
But some people didn’t know the very basics, she supposed.
She had met a few of them over the years, especially on the pro athlete circuit.
Some of these guys probably didn’t even know how to change a tire, let alone start a basic fire.
But not Aspen. She had been taught how to take care of herself. When her parents found out her mom was dying, both of them took every opportunity to teach her everything they could to ensure she could make it on her own.
Not that she was completely on her own; she still had her Papa Bear. Though she had learned that people in her life didn’t stick around forever, so it was better not to rely on anyone for anything. Even if they wore nicely fitted flannel shirts, had friendly smiles, and smelled like the forest.
No, Aspen wasn’t one of those creepers who went around sniffing people. It just so happened that he had been standing close earlier, and she could smell the piney scent on him, probably from splitting wood earlier in the day.
A knock sounded at her door, and she pushed off the floor, her knee twinging in pain from sitting in that position for too long.
She would need to let her trainer know about it.
The pain was normal, especially after being in the cold without proper clothing, but there were always exercises she could do to prevent it.
She went to the door, her hand resting at her side where her knife was, as she cracked it open to reveal the person she had expected.
“Hey, Cole. Did you forget something? Or did you come all the way back over here to murder me for real this time?” Aspen liked teasing him, but she wouldn’t let him know, keeping her face neutral.
“I… uh… nope. Definitely not the second one. Or the first.” He lifted a mug toward her, and she took it, her eyebrows pulled down as the smell of chocolate and peppermint wafted toward her nose.
“I made too much, and your fingers felt like icicles earlier, so I figured, why not share some with my new neighbor and be all neighborly and… stuff.” He shrugged, and Aspen had to fight to keep a smile off her face. He was adorable in a strange kind of way.
“It smells good. Thanks, neighborly neighbor.” She held the mug close to her body, and he closed his eyes, sucking in his lips as though trying not to laugh.
“Yeah. That was bad. I’m sorry. I do this all the time. You can ask around—my dad jokes are top notch.” He shot two guns and clicked his tongue before tucking his hands in his coat pockets. “See?”
Aspen was pretty sure a partial smile was shining through, so she took a sip of the minty hot chocolate to hide her face.
“Hey, this is pretty good. If you don’t make it in your line of work, you could always open a hot cocoa shop—call it Kris Kringle’s Cocoa.”
He let out a chuckle, and she took another sip, the warm chocolate sliding down her throat, bringing comfort and memories she didn’t want to think about.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your cocoa then. Night, Aspen. I… uh… never mind.” He spun on his heel and made his way down the porch steps. But Aspen’s curiosity always got the better of her, and it was what often got her into trouble. She had to know what he was about to say.
“Hey, Cole. What were you going to say?”
He turned back around and gripped the railing, brushing the snow off, as though debating what to say.
“I was going to say I’m a big fan of yours. But I didn’t want you to think I was going to be weird about it, so I was going to wait for another time.” He looked up, gave Aspen a small smile, and then turned back around to continue on his way.
“You’re weird, but it’s nice to know I still have fans. Thanks for the chocolate, Cole. Goodnight.” Before she could wait to see if he would say anything else, she closed the door and made her way to the couch with her cocoa.
Aspen was used to being cold, but with the mug of hot cocoa thawing her fingers, she realized she was colder than usual.
Being careful not to spill, she kicked off her soggy shoes and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders without sloshing the cocoa.
Once it was snug, she lowered herself to the floor in front of the fire, using the couch as a backrest and cradling the warm mug in her hands, inhaling the nostalgic scent of Christmases long ago as her memories came flooding back.
She pushed back the tears that threatened to escape as she sipped from the gifted mug of Christmas spirit, staring into the fire and thinking about all the things she used to do with her parents—until the last sip was gone and the log looked like it needed more fuel to keep burning through the night.
She retreated to the kitchen, the cold floor making her wish she had worn warm socks, and hurriedly washed the mug with the Mynt soap the hotel had provided for her cabin, setting it on the counter to dry.
Aspen had been so focused on getting warm that she hadn’t even taken the time to look around the place.
The cabin had an antiquated charm but looked modern in places.
The kitchen stove resembled one of those old gas stoves from an 1850s magazine, yet it looked brand new and had all kinds of buttons.
A light blue tea kettle with a wooden handle rested on top, and a wooden box on the counter held a large assortment of teas—something Aspen would definitely be using.
Coffee was a hard pass. It made her jittery in a way that wasn’t conducive to normal function, so she stuck to teas loaded with honey.
After looking around for a bit, her toes reminded her that she was still cold.
She hurriedly grabbed her flannel pajamas from her suitcase, threw them on, and quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face.
Entering the bedroom, she felt the small draft from the nearby window, took one look at the bed, grabbed the comforter, and headed back to the couch.
Why on earth would she go to the bedroom, where the sheets would be cold and her feet chilled for the entire night, when she could sleep on the comfortable couch in front of the blessedly warm fireplace?
Aspen knew she was weird. A snowboarder who hated being cold sounded absurd. But when she was snowboarding and in the moment, she didn’t even feel the cold.
She curled up in front of the fire like a lazy cat who always found the warmest spot in the house. As her body soaked up the heat from the blazing inferno, she slowly closed her eyes to the crackle of the fire, the lingering smell of cocoa still in her senses, and drifted off to sleep.