Chapter Thirteen
ASPEN
Was it normal for men to be this… nice? Aspen wondered as the snow crunched beneath her boots.
She and Cole had sat at that little table talking well into the afternoon—about snowboarding, his siblings, how he’d landed the job at the lodge.
She’d steered clear of anything too serious.
Aspen wasn’t one for digging up memories, and she’d already let herself be vulnerable twice today in front of a stranger.
The thought unsettled her. It was both freeing and unnerving all at once.
She walked toward her cabin, a container of soup warming her hands.
Granny Em really was as wonderful as Cole had said she was.
Before they left, she had given each of them soup along with a couple of warm cookies—cookies Aspen had nearly drooled over—and wouldn’t take a cent from either of them for the treats.
Cole had needed to go talk to someone about his water heater, so they had parted ways with a promise to meet up tomorrow.
Aspen couldn’t wait to get back to her cabin.
She wasn’t used to this much socializing, and it had drained her faster than she’d expected—too many voices, too many questions.
The kids had been great, but she was grateful Cole had shown up when he did.
Talking about her knee was one thing; talking about Chase was another.
She wasn’t ready to revisit that chapter just yet.
She tucked the soup and cookies carefully under her arm, not wanting to spill the precious goodness, and finagled her keys from her pocket.
After doing her little trick with the lock, she smiled, thinking about the first time she’d met Cole.
Had it really only been last night? It felt like she’d known him for weeks—months, even.
She stomped her boots on the mat outside the door and stepped inside, instantly reminded that if she wanted any warmth, she’d need to light a fire first.
She unlaced her boots and set the soup and cookies in the fridge before hurrying to the fireplace.
She’d have to ask for more wood the next time she was at the lodge—her starter log from last night and a few of the split logs were already gone, leaving her with only one starter log and a couple of pieces in the log stand.
She struck a match and lit the fire, then hurried to the bedroom to change into her PJ’s.
She wasn’t going anywhere for the rest of the day.
Her soup would hold her over, and a cookie waited for dessert.
And if she got hungry again, she had a feeling a certain friendly snowboarding instructor might have a kitchen full of treats.
Smiling to herself, she sank into the couch, pulling the blanket up to her neck as her eyes fluttered closed.
Aspen blinked her eyes open and sat up slowly, the darkness in the cabin disorienting her.
Why was it so dark, and why was it so cold in here?
She reached for her cellphone in the dark and tapped the screen, the light illuminating the space.
The numbers on the screen made her do a double take.
3 a.m.? How in the world had she slept for ten hours?
She swung her feet off the couch, her knee aching as she bent it. She hadn’t done her exercises before falling asleep, and she knew she’d be paying for it today.
She used her flashlight to find the wood, remembering that she had used the last starter log last night.
Maybe she could get the last split log to catch without it?
She got down on her knees and cursed as her knee twinged in pain.
Stupid knee. Would it always be like this?
she wondered, trying again to get the log to light. By the fourth match, she gave up.
If she had some little twigs or kindling, this wouldn’t be a problem. Paper towels or toilet paper could work, but not really—they’d just burn enough to catch a tiny bit of bark before snuffing out.
Should she go ask Cole for some? No—he was probably fast asleep, nice and warm in bed.
She shivered, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself as she thought.
It was still too early to head to the lodge, and the lifts wouldn’t be open for hours.
She picked up her phone. No service. Of course.
She should have remembered from the night before, when her lock hadn’t worked.
Maybe he wouldn’t be too mad if she woke him.
After all, he did work here. She wasn’t intruding—just a guest, cold, and in need of firewood.
She pulled on her boots and jacket, throwing the blanket around herself for extra measure before opening the front door.
The snow was piled up to her knees—no wonder she was freezing.
She’d slept right through a snowstorm, and a big one at that.
She groaned as she stepped into the snow and shut the door behind her, trudging forward as it grew deeper and deeper.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Now she was even colder than before.
And what if she wasn’t even going in the right direction?
She shined her flashlight ahead and could just make out the lights of Cole’s cabin in the distance.
Thank goodness for those stupid Christmas lights, she thought as she pressed on.
Snow had worked its way into her boots, her blanket, her hair—it was probably stuck to every part of her.
The perfect powder. But right now, it wasn’t perfect.
Right now, it was a nuisance she would rather not deal with.
And what was Cole going to do? Shovel her all the way back to her cabin and bring her wood? She continued on, mentally trying to come up with another reason for walking through waist-high snow at three in the morning, when most people should still be asleep.
She heard a scraping noise ahead and pressed on, her teeth beginning to chatter. She should have at least thrown on her snow gear before venturing into the freezing snow. She was a dum-dum.
The sound—a scraping only someone who grew up around snow could recognize as a shovel on packed ground—grew louder. Aspen followed it carefully, mindful of her knee. That was all she needed: to be both injured and stupid.
The shovel stopped as she got closer. “You should really go back to the lodge until we have the snow cleared out,” Cole’s voice rang out in the night, and Aspen could have jumped for joy.
“What if I’m not staying at the lodge and I’m in a very cold cabin with no wood and freezing to death?” Aspen said dramatically, out of breath and winded.
“Oh shoot… Aspen. It’s you.” The shovel clanged to the ground, and his boots crunched in the snow as he stepped closer. A beam of light hit her face, making her blink and raise her hands to shield her eyes.
He lowered the flashlight. “Oops, sorry about that.” Her teeth chattered as they stood there in the darkness, Cole’s light slowly sweeping from her feet up to the top of her head.
“You’re frozen.” He reached out, grabbing the blanket around her and pulling her close, his arm going around her back.
Leaving the shovel behind, he guided her to his cabin and through the door, settling her onto the couch in front of the blazing fire.
He carefully removed the wet blanket and replaced it with a dry one, then bent to take off her boots.
“Thank goodness you’re wearing wool socks, Aspen, or your feet would be frozen too.
” He shook his head, letting out a sigh as he reached up to readjust his beanie.
“I really need to get back out there and help the other workers shovel the walkways. I was just clearing the path from my cabin to yours because… well… I saw how high the snow was piled up on my doorstep and figured yours would be the same. I didn’t want you getting snowed in. ”
He dropped his hand, and all Aspen could do was give him a goofy smile, her eyes wandering from his snow-covered boots to the strands of hair poking out from under his beanie. He really was the most handsome—and thoughtful—guy she had ever met.
“Th-th-that’s r-really nice of you, Cole.” She shivered out the words, her teeth still chattering. Even with the new blanket and the fire, her clothes were soaking wet.
“Y-y-you… g-go… d-do… y-your… j-job.” She pointed her shaky finger at the door.
He turned to leave and opened the door, letting in a gust of wind—and some snow. Apparently, the storm wasn’t done. Good thing she hadn’t been stuck outside in that; she really would have been frozen.
“Welp. Guess we’re both stuck here for a bit until it dies down again.” He picked up his walkie-talkie and pressed the button.
“It’s Cole. Everyone should get back inside until this dies down. We’ll finish later.” A few more voices chimed in before the radio went silent.
Her body was still shaking, and though she tried to stop, she was too cold. Cole watched her, his eyebrows knit together in concern.
“One second.” He disappeared into his room, emerging moments later with a stack of clothes and a towel.
“You’re obviously freezing to death. I don’t want to be weird, and this isn’t some ploy to get you to take off your clothes or anything inappropriate.
I just… I can’t stand here and watch you shiver like that. ”
He held the clothes out, his face turning red as he motioned toward his room. “You can change in there. The door locks. I’ll even go all the way into the kitchen and stay there until you’re done. I swear.” He held up his hand like he was making an oath, and Aspen let out a laugh.
She tried to stand from the couch, hissing as she remembered all too late that her knee had been acting up.
“Are you okay, Aspen?” He hurried over, helping her to her feet as she shook her head.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Just my stupid knee. I forgot to do my exercises last night, so now it’s being all temperamental.” She rolled her eyes and gestured toward it.
He guided her to his room. “You can just hang your wet stuff in the bathroom, and we can… uh… figure something out later.” He quickly finished speaking and left her there, closing the door behind him.
She locked it and hurriedly stripped off her wet clothes, swapping them for his.
It was a first—she had never worn a man’s clothing, and clearly she was drowning in his.
He was large; she… not so much. She cinched the drawstring as tight as it would go and tied it securely, then towel-dried her hair with the towel he had given her.
She probably looked like a complete trainwreck, but at least she was dry.
After hanging everything up in his very clean bathroom, she threw the blanket back around herself, unlocked the door, and hesitated for a moment before stepping back into his cozy living room.
“I’m done, Cole. You don’t have to hide in there anymore,” she called to the kitchen as she sank back onto the couch.
“I’m not hiding. I’m getting you some tea.
You drink tea, right?” His voice warmed her soul—just like the clothes, the blanket, the fire, and how she knew the tea would.
The following thoughts came unbidden, unwanted.
This was why she had trudged through the snow to his cabin: because she wanted the warmth he gave.
Sure, her Papa Bear loved her, but this was different.
Unfamiliar, yet her spirit seemed to crave more.
She shook her head, clearing it of the thoughts that were causing her emotions to rise.
“Yeah. I like tea,” she said softly, her voice small in response to him.
She had never known kindness like his. Was he this nice to everyone he met?
She didn’t know Cole well enough to tell if this was how he treated everyone, but she found herself intrigued to find out.
He settled beside her on the couch and handed her the mug of tea, the scent of apple, cinnamon, and something else warm filling the space around her.
She took a sip, letting the flavors wash over her tongue as they sat in companionable silence, watching the fire crackle and pop while the wind howled outside.
Once their mugs were empty, her eyelids grew heavy.
She closed her eyes, her head lulling to the side until it landed on something soft and warm—and she drifted off to sleep.