Out of the Cold

Chapter Three

T he smoke alarm woke him up.

Leaping out of bed, Gabriel stood stock still in the middle of the room, his head whipsawing around as he looked for smoke.

But it wasn’t his cabin. The sound was coming from the main house.

She could have set the house on fire, or she might only have burned the toast. If it was toast, the alarm would go silent any second now.

He waited, shoulders hunched against the noise, for it to stop.

It didn’t.

Seconds later, there was a knock on his door. Lucy, already ruining another day. Why wasn’t he surprised?

He swung the door open. “What did you do?”

But she didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at his chest, which was bare because the woodstove kept the cabin so warm.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman looked at him like that. Or the last time he cared.

She hunched her shoulders. Against the cold, maybe against him. “The fire went out and I tried to start it, but now the house is filling with smoke.”

She was as pretty as he remembered, but clearly rattled. Her fair coloring contrasted with the high spots of color on her cheekbones, and her hair was coming out of a ponytail. The mountain lion screaming last night probably hadn’t helped matters. He’d seen her lights come on. Part of him had wanted to go over there and reassure her. The other part had hoped it would scare her off the mountain.

“I’ll be over in a minute,” he said.

She looked only slightly relieved before turning away.

He pulled on a pair of canvas work pants, a thermal shirt, and a flannel, then grabbed his work gloves from the bench by the door. The high shriek of the alarm got louder and more unbearable with every step, and a sharp headache began in his left temple.

Lucy was sitting on the side-door steps, petting her dog and watching his approach like she wasn’t sure if he was good news or bad.

Smoke singed his nostrils as soon as he stepped in the door. The big front room was full of smoke, and he began coughing as he made his way to the woodstove. Wood was strewn around the floor, pieces of bark and twigs littering the stone skirt in front of the stove.

He wasn’t going to be able to do anything until he had some air. Without a word he began opening windows, and Lucy followed his lead. Next, he hit the button on the smoke alarm, silencing it. He did the same to the one in the hallway and in her bedroom.

The throbbing in his head lessened, and he breathed a little easier. He headed to the stove, Lucy right behind him.

“I cleaned the chimney myself before you came, so it’s not that,” he said. He knelt down and opened the flue. “Here’s your problem. The flue wasn’t open. It was when I started it yesterday.”

She looked miserable. “The fire was dead this morning, so I watched a YouTube video about lighting one. I thought I was opening it.”

He should never have left yesterday without making sure she knew what to do. That was stupid, and now they were both paying for it.

“I don’t understand,” she went on. “I turned it both ways when it started to get smoky, and it made no difference.”

“If there’s already smoke in the room, it can be hard to tell when you’ve got it open.”

The curtains lifted as cool air blew in. His throat and eyes still stung, but the smoke was starting to clear out.

“So I guess I start all over?” she asked.

Her eyes were bright with tears, but that might have been from the smoke. He hoped to hell it was from the smoke.

“I’ll walk you through it. It’s not so bad.”

Kneeling in front of the woodstove, she opened up the front hatch.

“That’s right. You build it from there, but you stoke it by adding logs through the top.”

Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she laid a bed of paper, then pieces of bark and twigs. She looked at him for approval.

“That’s good. Now go ahead and light it.”

She picked up the long box of matches and struck one against the side, then again and again. Her slender shoulders rose and her back turned rigid as she failed to light it. Everything in him wanted to take over for her, but it was a minor thing, and he didn’t want it to defeat her.

When the match head broke off, she stared at it with a look of betrayal, clearly at the end of her rope.

“Hang on a second,” he said, heading into the laundry room, where a storage closet held all manner of household things. He pushed flashlights and batteries aside and found what he was looking for.

“Use this,” he said, coming back with the long electric lighter Len and Suzy kept for the grill.

She lit the bundle of paper and sticks, holding her breath as the flames surged up, then letting it out again as the bark and twigs caught and began a steady burn.

“That’s good. The wood’s caught. You can add a couple of the smaller logs now.” He held out his gloves. “Put these on. They’ll keep you from getting splinters.”

She slipped them on, though they were enormous on her, and fed some smaller pieces into the stove. “I guess it’s obvious I lied about knowing how to do this.”

“You could have told me the truth. I’d have showed you what to do.”

She stared into the fire, her expression troubled. “I didn’t want to prove you right about me,” she said finally.

He sat down in a chair so he wasn’t looming over her and watched the fire lick at the logs. He’d been up half the night and was still exhausted, despite sleeping later than usual.

He closed his eyes to relieve the sting of smoke and fatigue.

“Gabriel?”

His eyes snapped open. Lucy was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Behind her, the fire had settled into the logs, and she’d brought the dog in from outside. He must have been asleep for a few minutes.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “You can add more wood now. See how the logs are glowing like a piece of coal? That’s when you know it’s hot enough.”

She stood up and grabbed two heavy logs, handling them clumsily in her small hands. It was an effort not to take them from her.

“Throw in as much as you can fit, and that’s it. With a stove this size, as long as you feed it every eight hours or so, you’ll never have to start it from scratch again. Stoke it before you go to bed at night and there will still be a few embers in the morning to get it going again.”

He hadn’t been around anyone in months, and if asked, he’d have said that was how he wanted it. It was how he wanted it. But right this second, it wasn’t so bad being in Lucy’s company. He had the urge to close his eyes and let himself drift off again.

He stood.

“I suppose you were born knowing how to build a fire,” she said.

“I had to learn like anyone else.”

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Thank you for your help.” She held out the gloves, but he waved them away.

“Keep them.”

She hesitated, then withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry for bothering you. It won’t happen again.”

Her mouth was wide and tipped up at the corners, as if to compensate for her sad eyes. He had a sudden vision of her in his bed, waking him with her mouth and hands, her slim body molding to his.

“You should bother me if something’s wrong,” he said. “The last thing I need is for something to happen to you or the property because you were too afraid to tell me.”

He didn’t mean to sound like a dick, but it was too late. Her lips pressed together and her skin flushed. Either she was angry or she was embarrassed. Maybe both. He couldn’t blame her for either.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Let me know if you need anything.” He let himself out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

***

L ucy sat heavily in the chair Gabriel had vacated. It was still warm from his body.

For a few minutes there, he’d actually seemed human. For one thing, he was clearly exhausted. With his eyes closed, the dark circles had been obvious.

But he had to go and ruin it.

Life would be so much easier if she could pretend he didn’t exist, but she needed him. Which meant she had to find a way to make things better. Besides, it would be a lot less painful to live in the middle of nowhere if the one person within shouting distance didn’t despise her.

But she’d worry about how to become friends with him another time. She had to go food shopping before she starved. Maybe she’d explore the town a bit as well. She was bound to meet people who were friendlier than Gabriel.

Heading into the bathroom—which had a spa shower and huge fluffy towels in the linen closet—she washed her face and brushed her teeth, then dressed quickly in jeans, a warm top and jacket, and sneakers. By the time she finished, she was out of breath.

“Go to bed, Hilde,” she said, pointing toward Hilde’s fluffy blue bed.

Hilde obeyed, turning three times before lying down with a sigh. She should be fine for an hour or so. She was a mature five years old, and all the training Lucy did after getting her from the pound had paid off. Still, she’d make it quick in case Hilde got anxious.

Once in her car, she retraced her route from last night until she hit the main road, then turned right. She lost track of the number of inns, lodges, bed and breakfasts, and motels, all of them quiet. But that made sense. It was a ski town and there was no snow yet.

The businesses grew closer together until she was in the town proper. Getting out of the car, she looked around, taking in the full effect of the mountains looming above the town on all sides, protective and threatening all at once.

There weren’t many people out on the streets. Not a lot of cars, either. The post office looked like a chalet, but once inside, it was the same as post offices everywhere. The place was empty but for a woman behind the counter. She looked up from the book she was reading.

“Morning,” she said, her smile distracted.

Lucy smiled in return. “Hi, I’d like to rent a box.”

“Are you here for the season?” the woman asked, sliding a form across the gray Formica. A placard in front of the credit card machine read “Sara.”

“Yes, until March. Maybe longer,” she said, her stomach dropping at the thought. She could only see a few months into the future, and even that was murky at best.

“It should be a good year. They’re predicting lots of snow. The season won’t really get going for another month or so, though.”

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve never skied in my life. I’ve never even seen snow. I’m just hoping to make it through the winter without freezing to death.”

Sara looked at her as if she were a package that had gone wildly astray. “What made you come here, then?”

Lucy managed a wan smile. She’d spare her the long version. “A friend is letting me stay at his place.”

“There’s a lot to do even if you don’t ski. Hang on a second.” Sara disappeared into the back room, returning with the key to her box. “I’ll need a twenty-dollar deposit.”

Lucy fished the money out and passed it to her with the completed form. “Thank you.”

At the bank of boxes, she opened her own to make sure the key worked, then stared into the empty box. Soon she’d be getting bills—car insurance, student loans, one from the dentist from her oral surgery six months ago. Probably that’s all she’d ever get here. It wasn’t like people wrote to each other anymore.

Maybe she’d send letters to all the people she’d been neglecting out of embarrassment at her situation. She was bound to get some letters in return.

Marginally cheered by that idea, she locked the door and attached the key to her key ring, which held the keys to Len’s cabin, her parents’ house, and her own car. The car was the only thing she could rightfully call her own, and it was on its last legs.

Shaking off the thought, she went next to the little gift shop a few blocks down, where she bought a box of fancy stationery. She’d write her correspondence in the armchair by the fire. What could be more satisfying than that?

At the grocery store, she quickly loaded up on everything she’d need over the next week, which included all manner of items for baking. She was going to need a hobby.

Her last stop was the liquor store, where she bought a couple of bottles of wine while trying to look like someone who’d be throwing dinner parties rather than drinking alone for the next few months.

Before getting back in her car, she sent a group text to her family and a few friends. “Hello from 5,000 feet up. Miss you!” She added a picture of the town with the mountains rising behind it and hit send.

Her phone rang as she let herself in the door and greeted Hilde. Setting her grocery bags on the kitchen table, she pulled the phone out of her purse.

“Hi, Len.”

“Lucy. You made it.”

She smiled at the sound of his voice. “Yes, yesterday afternoon.”

“Are you settling in all right?”

“It’s very comfortable here. I won’t want for anything.”

“Have you met Gabe yet?”

“I’ve seen him a couple of times. He had the place warmed up and ready for me.” She wasn’t going to complain about him, not when Len was doing her such a big favor. But maybe she could extract some information about him. “He’s a bit intimidating.”

“He’s a good man, but not much for chitchat. Anything you need taken care of, though, just ask him. He’s been in charge of the property since last spring.”

“He doesn’t have a job?”

“He didn’t give me a lot of details, but he’s got a business he can manage from there. From what I gather, he needed to get away, but I didn’t ask questions. I don’t expect him to be around permanently.”

Maybe he’d had a bad breakup as well.

“How’s Suzy?” she asked.

“She’s scheduled for surgery next month.”

Len was Mark’s colleague, but she’d hit it off with him the first time they met at the history department’s holiday party. When she ran into him again days after Mark broke up with her, he’d told her about his mountain home.

You never knew who’d come through for you. She’d certainly never thought her relationship with Len would outlive the one with Mark.

She put the phone on speaker and started to unpack the groceries. “Give her my best.”

“I’ll do that. Before I forget, there are some trails on the property you should try. They might be a bit grown in, but they’re well-marked. You’ll see the trailhead directly behind Gabe’s cabin.”

“Is it safe? I heard a mountain lion last night. It woke me up, and I was sure it was a woman being murdered.”

“It’s a shame you heard that your first night. That scream is the female’s mating call, so it’s unusual to hear it this time of year. But if they lose their cubs, they’ll start looking for a mate again, whatever time of year it is.”

“Do you worry about hiking with them out there?”

“I don’t necessarily worry about it, but we take precautions. You don’t want to go out after dusk or before the sun is fully up. We usually go out in pairs, and we don’t take the grandkids when they’re little. Mountain lions generally avoid people, but you should be prepared if you go into the woods.”

“Thanks, Len. I’ll give it some thought.”

“There’s plenty to enjoy without heading into the woods. Town’s a little slower this time of year, but that can be nice, too. You should explore a bit before it’s full of tourists.”

“Good idea.”

“Oh, and make sure you enjoy the hot tub.”

“Hot tub?”

He laughed. “Yes, out on the back deck. Best idea Suzy ever had.”

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“It’s great for sore muscles, too. A soak in the tub after a long hike or snowshoe will change your life. Use anything you find in the house. We store boots and other winter things in the back closet.”

“I’ll remember that. Thank you, Len. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“You’re doing us a favor. I hate to have the place sit empty for a whole winter.”

It was a kind thing to say, but with Gabe taking care of the place, she knew he didn’t need her there. “Well, thank you all the same.”

“Give me a call if you need anything.”

She was smiling when she hung up. She’d have to do something to show her appreciation, but she couldn’t think what would be adequate.

She had a bunch of new texts commenting on the photo she’d sent and asking how she was. She replied with pithy messages to everyone but Cara. Call you soon, she typed, then went to get the rest of the groceries.

There were still several logs in the woodstove when she finished unpacking, so she probably had a few more hours before she had to add to it. Better to see how it burned and get a feel for the timing so she could plan her days.

She shut the stove door with a clang, satisfied with how logical that was.

Hilde needed a walk, and so did she, for that matter. In San Francisco, they went for a long walk nearly every day. But despite what Len had said, she couldn’t stop imagining mountain lions lurking in the woods and circling the perimeter of the cabin.

There was a ton of information online about warding off mountain lion attacks. She read several different sites, but they didn’t exactly alleviate her fears. One page suggested using a hiking stick or even a hunting knife as protection and to throw rocks to frighten them off.

There were hiking poles in the mudroom, and rocks were easy enough to find. It was a start. Too bad the trails were behind Gabriel’s cabin. She could only hope she wouldn’t run into him.

“Ready for a walk?” she asked Hilde, who was already dancing around in anticipation.

It was a beautiful day, clear and sunny, maybe fifty degrees. Exactly what she’d imagined when she decided to come here. The crisp, pine-scented air filled her lungs and entered her bloodstream, brightening her pulse.

They crossed the little bridge that spanned a creek, then walked along a well-worn path through a sparse stand of trees. There was the stump Gabriel chopped wood on. She tensed, waiting for Gabriel to open the door and scowl at her, but there was no movement inside or out.

Hilde sniffed like mad, beside herself at all the smells. Lucy tugged her gently away from something in the grass and led her to the back of the cabin. It took a minute, but eventually she spotted the trailhead at the bottom of a tree-covered slope.

She was already breathing heavily, either from nerves or the altitude, as if her body were galloping ahead of her. Then branches cracked as something moved through the forest, too far away for her to identify.

Turning abruptly, she led Hilde back around the house and over the bridge. They followed Len’s driveway to the narrow road, where she turned left and kept to the packed dirt on the side.

Hilde looked longingly into the forest.

“Sorry, girl, we’re sticking to the road.”

The road meant civilization and the ability to escape the wilderness, and it made her feel safe. Safer, anyway. Right now, nowhere felt completely free of danger.

She kept Hilde on the leash so she wouldn’t have to worry about cars, but she let the dog stop as often as she wanted, and sniff to her delight. It took forever to go a mile with so many new scents, but she didn’t have anywhere she had to be. Be present , she reminded herself each time she had the urge to coax the dog along. During one long sniff, she pocketed a few rocks to use as missiles should a mountain lion launch itself at her or Hildegard.

Assuming she didn’t pass out first.

If she did get mauled, she hoped Mark read about it and spent the rest of his days racked with guilt that she’d been driven up here because of him.

She looked around, trying to see through the trees on both sides. Surely Hilde would smell or sense a predator if one were near. Unless, of course, it was upwind.

She stopped, chilled by the thought. Something moved in the trees to her left and she froze, only to watch a squirrel run up a tree.

She was a mess. It didn’t matter that so far she’d only seen squirrels. Possibly that was what she’d heard behind Gabriel’s cabin, too. But what if it wasn’t?

She turned Hilde around and headed home. Her nerves were shot by the time they got to the dirt drive, and once they were in the house, she fell into a chair by the stove.

Fear was exhausting. She knew that better than most people.

Then she remembered the hot tub.

In her room she undressed and put on her robe, then twisted her hair into a bun on top of her head. She stepped out onto the deck and looked around, relieved to see high privacy walls, as well as a partition on the side facing the deck’s glass doors. Straight ahead, she had a view of the trees.

It was a huge deck, with plenty of room to accommodate a big family, but the only furniture out there now was a bench and a couple of chairs near the tub. There was a gate at the top of the stairs, so she let Hilde out, then lay her towel and robe over a chair and lifted the tub’s lid, releasing billows of steam.

This was going to be good. Stepping in carefully, she sank into the water with a moan.

Her eyes closed, and her whole body relaxed for the first time in months.

Sometime later, the slam of a car door brought her out of her reverie. She tensed, wondering if someone was at the house. But no, it was most likely Gabriel, heading out.

Her fingers were pruned, and it was probably time to check the woodstove.

There was only one half-burned log left when she and Hilde went back inside, but she was in plenty of time. Slipping on Gabriel’s gloves, she fed half a dozen logs into the fire. No doubt the task would soon be so mundane as to not even register on her brain, but at present, she was thrilled to have both remembered and performed the task well. Or she thought she had. Time would tell.

She’d been here twenty-four hours, and she was marginally more knowledgeable than yesterday. She could keep herself from freezing to death in the cabin, and that was something.

Now it was time to feed herself.

She’d bought the ingredients for her mom’s chicken soup, the homiest thing she could think of. The one good thing about living at home for so long was learning how to cook. Even when she was too tired and weak to actually do any chopping or stirring, she’d sit at the table and her mother would narrate what she was doing and why. On the nights her dad cooked, she made him do it, too. He liked to ham it up and pretend he was on a cooking show, though he sometimes lost track of where he was in the recipe.

She smiled at the memory, a wave of homesickness washing over her.

She needed to stop thinking about all the things she liked about living at home and remember how stifling her family’s overprotection had been. Moving away had been liberating, and this was another step in that direction.

She wrote some letters while the soup simmered on the stove, then served herself a bowl along with a glass of white wine. It was damn good, and very satisfying, but she couldn’t help wishing she was sharing it with someone.

Too bad Gabriel was such a lost cause. Having a dinner companion from time to time would have been nice. But if she couldn’t share a meal with someone in person, she could at least call her best friend.

Cara answered on the first ring. “Oh my God, finally! How are you?”

It was a simple question, but not so simple to answer. “I’m okay. It’s not what I was expecting, but I haven’t burned down the cabin, so I guess I’m ahead.”

“You don’t sound too happy.”

“I’m a little jittery. It’s hard to breathe up here, which is really unnerving, and then I heard a mountain lion last night. It woke me out of a sound sleep, and I thought someone was being murdered.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t the best first night. I’m in the middle of nowhere, and the caretaker wishes I would disappear.”

“That can’t be right. Everyone loves you.”

“I guess he didn’t get the memo. On the plus side, there’s a hot tub.”

“I could put up with a lot if I had a hot tub.”

“It’s definitely an unexpected perk.” She wandered to the sliding glass doors and looked out at the swaying treetops. “To be honest, I’m pretty homesick. I keep thinking how easy it would be to go back.”

“Your family would be thrilled, but do you think you’d be happy? You wanted to get away for so long.”

“I know. I suppose I shouldn’t go home just because I’m having a bad day.”

“Give it a chance. Maybe the mountains will grow on you. Speaking of which, is the caretaker hot?”

Lucy laughed. “The man can’t stand me!”

“I’m just asking.”

“Yes, he’s extremely hot,” she said, sighing. “But he wants me gone, so it really doesn’t matter.”

“Bummer. A rebound with a hot man and a hot tub would be spectacular.”

“Stop! You’re making it worse!”

“Sorry.”

Cara didn’t sound all that sorry, but it was so good to talk to someone she wasn’t hiding anything from. They’d been best friends since second grade, long before she’d gotten sick, and as silly as Cara could be sometimes, she was also a rock, even as a teenager.

Cara had cried with her when she got the diagnosis and stuck by her through all the scary treatments, even though it must have freaked her out. Her parents had driven Cara to the hospital for regular visits, and once she got her license, she’d driven herself there. None of Lucy’s other friendships had survived her long bout with leukemia and all the missed school, not to mention having to stare at her pale face and bald head.

“How are things with you?” she asked Cara. “I don’t suppose your boss decided to retire yet?”

“I wish. She’s still the worst. I’m finishing a project she’ll be taking credit for. But it’s so good to hear your voice. You hang in there, okay? I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay. Good luck with the dragon lady.”

She was smiling as she hung up, but God, she missed her friend. She hadn’t seen her since she and Mark flew home for Cara’s wedding a little over a year ago.

Among the guests at the wedding had been several of her former high school classmates, many of whom she hadn’t seen since she got sick. They’d all approached her with wide, solemn eyes and told her how glad they were that she was doing well.

Even the ones who’d seen her more recently seemed to only remember her shaking and pale, dealing with the aftereffects of chemo and other treatments. It was no wonder they all asked about her health.

They weren’t doing anything wrong— it was only natural they’d ask—but all she wanted was to celebrate Cara and her new husband, and dance until she could barely stand up. Instead, she had to relive being the sick girl.

But then, she never really forgot.