Chapter 3 #2
“Mm.” Her serious expression gives way to mischief. “Well. I’m sure you could make him come around.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“One of us should be getting some action.”
“You could get plenty if you stopped swiping left all the time.”
She rolls her eyes. “The last guy on that app who looked promising said in his bio that his anthem was a G-Eazy song. Didn’t exactly spark confidence. I think I’m going to delete it altogether. It’s not like I use it for anything more than entertainment purposes.”
“One of these days you’re going to have to give someone a chance.”
“I’ve done just fine without penis so far, thank you very much. Artificial works as well as the real thing.” Her expression falls then. “Besides, you know why I don’t date.”
That gives me pause, and I feel a surge of guilt course through me. I do know why she doesn’t date—and even if she’s never really gone into the full details, given that it happened before we met, I know enough to understand why she continues to swipe left.
“Yeah, I know.” I check the time. “I guess I should get downstairs and see if Jeannie ever made it in. It would be nice to discuss the project with someone who actually wants it to get done.”
“Mr. Hunter is probably looking for a place to lay his log.”
I push up from the bed, reaching for my phone on the dresser. “Okay, back to work for me. You can go back to mocking people’s Tinder bios.”
“It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.”
“Whatever. Tell Catherine I said hi.”
“Tess says hi!” Ada shouts behind her.
I hear a faint Hi, Tess from somewhere out of sight, and I wince. “Has your mom been around for this entire conversation?”
“I think she left around the time I suggested you should make him come.”
“Good talk. Bye-bye, now.”
Ada makes a kissing face right before I hang up the FaceTime call, and I shake my head as I stow my phone in my pocket.
I try to situate my bangs into a less nightmarish situation, but given the way I’m still sweating slightly even with the frigid temperature, I reason that this is as good as it’s going to get.
It’s not as if I have anyone to impress anyway.
I’m going to get a lot sweatier than this when we start getting into the real work.
And I don’t care in the slightest what anyone in this lodge thinks of my appearance.
Not at all.
The lodge looks different in the morning sun—no less dusty or aged, but there’s something about the sunlight gleaming on the soft mounds of powdery white outside that makes the walls seem to shine a little brighter. Honestly, it makes the entire place feel more charming.
The heat isn’t quite as strong as I might like, a fact that became entirely apparent about eighteen minutes after I settled into bed last night in my usual bedtime attire of a T-shirt and panties.
I was jumping back out of bed in no time at all to pull on pajama pants and the thickest pair of socks I own.
Socks that I am currently still wearing inside the fuzzy snow boots I’ve shoved the ends of my sweatpants into.
Socks that I’d wager I won’t be taking off for the entirety of my stay.
I’m not looking where I’m going as well as I should when I step off the last stair, nearly tripping over a black mass of…
something that gives a yowl when my foot collides with it.
It bounds off in a fluffy blur toward the other room, leaving me blinking at the spot where it just was and wondering what in the hell I nearly stepped on.
One day here, and not only does my host hate me and think I’m some sort of biological ticking time bomb, but I’m already upsetting the local wildlife. Great.
I follow my nose, tracking the smell of cooked meat and, beneath that, something sweet that I very much hope comes with syrup, stalking it like a hungry predator as it leads me down an adjoining hall attached to the room where the front desk resides.
It spills out into a long dining room that houses a wide (surprise!) wooden dining room table, each leg made of an untreated log and the benches on either side of a similar material.
An older woman who looks to be in her sixties with thick graying hair piled on top of her head works at the other end, setting out plates and trays of bacon, eggs, and—most importantly—pancakes.
She looks up when she notices me entering, giving me a kind smile that makes her eyes crinkle. Almost like we’re old friends.
“Oh, hey,” she greets me. “You must be Esther.”
“Tess,” I correct gently. “Everyone calls me Tess.”
“Of course,” she says, still smiling. “It’s good to have you here. Why, you’re the first guest we’ve had since May. No one to look at most of the time but Hunter and Reginald, and they’re not great company even on their best days.”
I wrinkle my nose. I’d been under the impression that I was the only guest. “Reginald?”
“Sorry.” She nods her head down toward the floor, and I notice now that the same massive black something from the stairs is skulking in from the opposite door, which I assume leads to the kitchen.
“He only acts like an asshole,” she assures me as the very fluffy, very large cat takes a seat near her feet.
“He’s really kind of sweet once you get to know him. ”
“His name is Reginald?”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Named him after my late husband. Believe it or not, he sort of favors him a little.”
I look into the slightly squashed face of the massive feline, trying to picture it. “Well. It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” I tell her. “Once my teeth stopped chattering.”
“Well, shit. I’ll put some extra blankets in your room after breakfast. These old ducts aren’t what they used to be.
I’ll talk to Hunter and see if we have enough in the budget to do something about the furnace.
” She nods her head toward a wide window that overlooks the snow.
There are so many windows in this place.
“Hunter actually mentioned chopping some more wood later for the big fireplace. Haven’t started it up in a few months—but it’s right toasty to sit around when it gets going.
” She nods to herself as she gazes out the window, finally giving her head a little shake as if remembering herself.
“Sorry, you’d think I’d never met anyone before.
” She wipes her hands on her apron, then steps closer, extending one for me to shake.
“Jeannie. It’s good to finally meet you in person. ”
“You too,” I reply warmly. There’s a whiff of something sweet coming from her, something not too unlike the pancakes she’s just set down—and I have no way of knowing if it’s batter on her clothes or one of those scent things the doctor warned me about.
I can’t decide if it’s rude to ask. “I’m really excited to get started. ”
“I follow you on the TikTok,” she says. “You do some good work.”
I beam. “I appreciate that. It’s really cool doing what I love with my family.”
“Right. You have those brothers. They around?”
I shake my head. “They’re driving. Bringing all the tools. I wanted to come ahead and get a feel for the place.”
“Ah. Of course. Well, I’m thrilled you guys took the job. Took some convincing with that grumpy nephew of mine, but I know you’re gonna do wonders here.”
“Nephew?” I raise an eyebrow as I shake her hand. “Are you related to Hunter?”
“Aunt,” she clarifies. “By marriage. My Reg was Hunter’s uncle.”
I guess it would be a bad idea to tell her that her nephew is kind of an asshole.
“Oh. Yeah. I met him last night. He seems great.”
Jeannie laughs at that. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it with me, hon. I’m sure he was a big ol’ sourpuss. He isn’t as keen on renovating as I am.”
“I…gathered he has some reservations.”
“Just ignore him. He isn’t big on change when it comes to this old place.”
I’m not sure what else to say about that, seeing as her remark feels like a major understatement, if Hunter’s attitude last night was any indication. I give an appreciative look around the room in lieu of responding. “Well, it’s really a lovely place you’ve got here.”
“Oh, I know it’s not what it used to be, but if you keep an open mind, this place really can be quite…” She smiles a little to herself, looking at the snow outside the window again. “Magical, really.” She snorts out a laugh. “Listen to me, acting a fool.”
“No, no,” I tell her. “I get it. If Hunter is agreeable, we should probably all sit down to go over the budget and talk about the different projects I have planned for this place. A lot of the work my brothers and I can do by ourselves, but some of the larger jobs we’ll have to get people to drive in from Denver for. ”
“I’ll make sure he gets his panties out of a bunch long enough to do that,” she assures me. “He can be reasonable when he wants to be.” She nods to herself. “Anyway, I imagine you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” I admit with slight surprise. The nausea is pretty much under control at the moment, and I’m realizing how long it’s been since I’ve eaten properly.
“Well, sit down, sit down. Better dig in before the food gets cold.”
I waste no time in obliging, lowering myself onto the carved bench at one side of the table, then grabbing one of the empty plates waiting there.
I load up on eggs and two pancakes (my hips won’t thank me for it, but honestly, I sort of love my curves), then tear into a crispy strip of bacon with an actual moan as I close my eyes.
“That’s fantastic.”
Jeannie chuckles to herself as she settles into the only actual chair, which sits at the head of the table near where I’m perched. “Glad you like it. I don’t get to cook for many people anymore. Business has been so slow, you see.”
“Oh?” I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth. “Why is that?”
Jeannie sighs. “Used to be full up all winter long,” she tells me. “Then a few years back, they built that new highway that bypasses the town…took all our travelers right around us and straight on to Denver. Business hasn’t been the same since.”