Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
AXL
M y phone alarm did not go off. I awoke to Billie standing over me, already dressed.
“Axl,” she said, nudging me. “Axl, wake up. It’s me. It’s Billie.”
“Shit,” I mumbled. “You’re awake?” Was there really a woman in the cabin with me? It was all jumbled in my mind.
I looked at her through half-open eyes, taking in her messy dark hair, sweet mouth, and pink cheeks. Then it all came back to me. I made her wet. She made me hard. This was a real problem.
This woman was Louise’s granddaughter, and I needed to get her out of this cabin and back to Denver.
My eyes snapped open. “Hey, I know you, yeah,” I said.
I scooted up on the couch, and my blanket fell to my waist. I reached my arms overhead as Billie glanced at my bare chest. Cam jumped off the couch and stretched in unison with me.
“You love being naked, don’t you,” she said, arms crossed. It wasn’t a question.
“Sorry. I just figured you’ve seen more than this already. And I’m not naked, just shirt off. I told you. I run hot. Can you let Cam out? ”
Cam was on her back legs, both paws pressed against the kitchen door. She was overdue for a morning pee.
Billie sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Get dressed. And I can’t open the back door. There is too much snow.”
“Too much snow?” My back stiffened. That wasn’t possible. I squinted and looked outside at the south field, seeing only white through the shutters. I stood up and pulled on my shirt, then wrapped the blanket around my shoulders like a cape. I needed to find my pants. It was chilly in the living room, even with the fire blazing.
Billie noticed me check the hearth. “When I woke up, the fire was almost out,” she said. “I added kindling and put another log on. See, I do know how to make a fire.”
“Nice,” I said, grateful she’d kept it burning. “Thanks for doing that. Did you try the lights this morning? Any power?” A quick glance in the kitchen, and I was concerned. The blue clock on the microwave was nowhere to be seen.
“No.” Billie gasped. She dashed across the great room and hit the light switch for the main pendant. Nothing happened. “No power? There is no power. How can there be no power?”
“Thought so,” I muttered. Cam paced back and forth by the door. “Hold on, girl. I’ll get you out.”
“Shit,” Billie said, repeatedly flipping the switch on and off. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“I know you think you’re helping the power turn on with all that switch-flipping, but you are not.”
“We have no power,” Billie said, her brown eyes wide and bewildered. “This is a disaster.”
“We have heat. We have fire. I have a ton of wood out back, and we’ve got a gas stove. We’ll be fine for a while.”
“What do you mean ‘a while’?” she said, biting her lip. She pointed to the back door. “I have to get out of here. Cam has to pee.”
“Both things are true,” I said. I found my pants on the floor under a pillow that Cam or I must have kicked off the couch. Billie stood right in front of me, staring. “I’m going to get dressed now. Do you want to … ” I twirled my finger in the air, making a circle.
“Sorry,” she blurted and then spun around in a huff. “I mean, I did see all of you yesterday.”
“Turn back around then,” I said. “I do not care.”
“I saw enough.”
I laughed as I pulled on my pants. They felt a little chilled, so I walked over to the fire and let the flame warm my ass as I buckled my jeans. Billie pivoted again to avoid watching me.
“I will give you privacy,” she said. “You’ve already done enough for me, what with giving me your bed.”
“You slept well, I take it?” I said, buttoning up my flannel. I picked up my black vest from the hook by the door. “I’m good now, all dressed. It’s safe to look.”
“Okay,” she said, turning to face me. “Well, don’t you look cozy.” She looked a little flushed as she smoothed down her wavy hair. “I’m out of the bedroom, all packed up, if you want a fresh change of clothes. I know you wore those yesterday.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m just going to sweat while I dig us out of here. It’ll be fine.” I nodded and walked to the window for a closer look at the snow. My stomach dropped. Holy fuck. It was not fine. “I thought you said the snow stopped.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I told you I couldn’t get out the kitchen door.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered. The snowdrift in the south field reached the lower portion of the window in the shape of a wave. It was hard to see the wind blowing since white clouds still covered the sky and the flurries continued. It was so bright out it hurt my eyes. There was very little definition, just layers and shades of white. “How cold is it out there?”
“It’s bad,” she said, standing beside me. “I got up and saw the snow. I did the fire first because I could tell it was really cold, but I can’t get the back door open. It’s frozen shut. I have never seen that door frozen shut.”
“You try this door?” I said, nodding at the one that faced the back field .
“No, just the kitchen,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you and Cam up, and I was focused on the back since my truck’s out there.”
I walked to the kitchen door and tugged on the knob. She was right; it was stiff and cold. I took a breath and braced my legs. Using all my weight, I grunted and pulled. The door snapped open, nearly knocking me to the ground. Cam got surprised and barked, jumping in circles.
“I’m okay, buddy. All good,” I said, hands on my knees. The drift out front was high, and the snow wasn’t stopping. A gust of wind rattled the open door, blowing in a pile of snow.
“Holy crap,” Billie said, jumping backward. Cam got excited and tried to bite snowflakes. I shut the door with a bang.
“That’s bad,” I said.
“Well, at least you could open the door.” Billie paced and rubbed her forehead. “If you weren’t here, I would be trapped. This isn’t happening. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” I said, rubbing my elbow. I’d banged it on the corner of the cabinet. “That felt like I was trying to open a sealed vault.”
“I’ve got to call my mom. I should never have left.”
“Your mom is going to be fine, because we will figure out how to get you out of here, okay?”
I opened the kitchen door again, this time prepared for what I’d see outside. On another day, I might have thought the snow was beautiful, but this wasn’t ordinary snow. This was a snow that stopped time.
Deep, dry powder covered the yard. Snow piled on top of the ledges, the car, the fence posts. The trees sparkled with snow and ice as the wind howled. I leaned out to check the porch thermometer. It was minus ten degrees. This wasn’t just a winter wonderland; this was dangerously cold. Hypothermia would set in fast in weather like this. I had no doubt that schools were closed, roads were closed, and winter advisories were telling people to stay indoors.
“Well,” I said, closing the kitchen door behind me. “That’s some snow. ”
“I know, right?” Billie faced me, eyes wide, her arms crossed. “Too much snow.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “You could say that.”
“Okay, so I think we need a plan.” She clapped her hands, eyes locked on me like a player on the sidelines waiting to be put back in. “I have my purple coat and my boots aren’t great, but I thought maybe I could wear some of your wool socks? And thank goodness we emptied the truck last night. Thank you for that, by the way. I am pretty sure we have two shovels.”
I shook my head. “We’re not shoveling.”
“We’re not?” she asked, her voice weak.
“Well, it’s sub-zero right now, which means that even if we could get ahead of the falling snow, it’s dangerous to be out there.”
“And it’s still snowing.”
“Yes, it is still snowing. We need to wait out the snow and the temperature.”
“I’m not getting out today, am I?” she whispered.
“You are not getting out until the snow stops and it warms up a bit.”
“Cool, cool, cool,” she said.
I knew without asking that there was nothing cool about any of this.
“Well, I know it’s not what you planned.”
She burst out laughing and paced back and forth in front of the window. “No.” She laughed, sounding a little unhinged. “It’s not. I mean I drove from Seattle to Denver and then decided to come here. What a great idea, am I right?”
“You couldn’t have known about the weather.”
“Yeah, well, if my mother hadn’t pissed me off by hiring my ex-best friend as her real estate agent, I might not be in this situation.”
“Excuse me, what?” I asked, totally not following.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a high school thing. My best friend made out with my boyfriend. I thought I loved him. She is a cheating boyfriend-stealer, and ever since then, I’ve done nothing but make terrible relationship decisions. Now I guess I just make bad decisions period. This is my life now.” She stopped pacing and placed both hands on the mantle of the river-rock fireplace. “I’m not nuts,” she said, glancing back at me. She was acting totally nuts.
“Nope, you are not,” I agreed.
“I had to get away, and I just couldn’t be in that house.” Her voice caught, and she coughed, still looking at the fire. Her chest quivered as she breathed.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
She turned away from the fireplace and sank on her feet, leaning against one side of the mantle. Tears glinted in her eyes. She stared at the ceiling and inhaled slowly. “I’m not okay,” she whispered. “It feels good to admit it.”
“So a real estate agent stole your boyfriend?”
“He cheated on me,” she said, “in high school, with her.”
“You mean in high school, high school? Aren’t you, like, not in high school?”
“Ugh,” she said. “Of course I’m not in high school. It was a long time ago, but I can’t stand cheaters. People don’t change. When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”
“I see.”
“It’s unforgivable to betray someone, to break vows like that. My dad did it to my mom. My first boyfriend cheated on me, and so did my last. Men who cheat and the women who cheat with them are just terrible people. They are terrible, and I don’t want a terrible person selling my mom’s house. I just don’t.”
“You want some breakfast?” I said, getting up from the table. This felt a lot bigger than a high school grudge. It was also none of my business. I needed Billie to calm down and stay happy. She’d go home, leave my lease alone, and I could enjoy the rest of the year in Smoke River. It wasn’t that complicated.
“No,” she said, finally sitting down. “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away. It’s just been hard lately. And I think I’m still tired.”
“You’ve been distracted, and I do not judge you for showing up here without chains, without a hat … ” I smiled, hoping she saw the humor in the situation .
“I was a mess.” She smiled, her lower lip extended. “I want you to know that normally I don’t need help. It’s kind of my thing. I like to do things myself. I’m not used to that not working.”
“Well, I’m not used to being trapped. Neither of us can fix this. There is nowhere to go.”
“Nowhere to go,” she repeated, looking around the room until her eyes landed on me across the table.
“This is the kind of weather that ruins everybody’s plans. You want coffee?” I asked, nodding toward the kitchen. “I’ve got a stovetop maker and fresh ground espresso.”
She snorted a laugh. “No, I want to get out of here.”
“I get that, but I can tell you right now, before I do anything, I need good coffee.”
“Fine,” she said, turning around on her chair to watch me while I filled up my Italian moka pot with water.
“Fancy,” she said. “You like nice things.”
“Maybe I do,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my tough-guy image.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” She sat down, elbows on the kitchen table. “So do you think you can dig me out later, even with this cold?”
I breathed in through gritted teeth as I turned up the gas under the moka pot. “You want me to lie to you?”
“No, I don’t want you to lie to me.”
“Okay then. There is no way you are getting out of this drive today. I don’t think we’re leaving this cabin.”
“Earlier, you said it wasn’t that bad and we just needed to wait for the snow to stop and the temperature to go up.”
“Both those things are true, and maybe they happen today.”
“Or maybe tomorrow?”
“I can’t predict the weather, not in these mountains.”
“Well, if the snow stops, we will just have to start digging.” She walked to the kitchen window and pushed the curtains aside. The window was slick with condensation. She rubbed it off. “You know, I remember one winter, Gran, Mom, and I were here, and we got stuck for a day, but then the snow melted. Mason came over with the boys for dinner. They were in grade school then. It was a long time ago.” She stood on her toes and seemed to be eyeing the outdoor thermometer.
“I can tell you right now,” I said, turning off the gas as the moka pot bubbled. I took down two mugs and filled them each with dark espresso. “Those clouds out there are not done, and even if I could get you out of the drive, there is no way you are getting down the mountain. You need the temperature to go up about fifteen degrees.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “I am sure the snowplows are up and running.”
“They are,” I said, leaning back on the counter, holding my mug, “on the highway, but the logging road won’t be clear today. There is no way.”
She exhaled, sending the hair on her forehead billowing. “I forgot about the logging road.”
I walked to the fridge and took out half-and-half, placing it on the kitchen table.
“So, I’m stuck for today. We are both stuck,” she said, pouring creamy clouds into her coffee.
“Stuck for today,” I said, taking the cream and topping off my coffee, as well. I took a sip. It was delicious. “And my phone has no signal.”
A gust of wind shook the windows as snow pelted the glass.
“I’m stuck here,” she said, sinking back into her seat. “I’m stuck here, and we can’t call anyone.”
“I’m afraid not.” I sat down across from her and trilled my fingertips on the wood, knowing that I didn’t have any good answers.
“So, what do we do?” she said. “I’m not used to asking that question. Normally, I know what to do.”
“How about we eat breakfast?”
“Eat.” She looked pained. “I don’t know if I can eat, and I feel bad eating your food. I didn’t know you were here, and you weren’t expecting me.”
“All true, but you should eat. Good to keep your energy up. ”
“Why? Do you think we’re going to be stuck here for days?” Her eyes widened with panic.
“No,” I said, laughing. “You should eat because I’m a great cook.”
“You want me to eat a good breakfast,” she said. “That is your top priority.”
“Yeah.” I stood up and opened the fridge, pulling out sausages, eggs, peppers, and cheese. The light was off, but the food was still cold. If I needed to, I could put items on the porch. “I happen to make an amazing Denver omelet.”
“Oh, my God. Of course you do,” she said, grinning.
“Also, let’s add a little splash of something to our coffee.” I reached above the stove, opened the liquor cabinet, and took out the big bottle of Baileys. “How about a little Irish sweetness?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Billie poured herself a shot. She took a sip and closed her eyes, a smile crossing her face. “Delicious.”
“Now aren’t you glad you didn’t throw that bottle at me, too?”
She gave me a sly smile as Cam began to whine.
“Your dog has to pee.”
“I’ll let her out, she can leap over the snow” I opened the door, Cam took about two steps, squatted, peed, and bounded back into the house, shaking snow from her paws.
“Here’s to the world’s smartest dog,” Billie said, toasting me with her sweetened coffee.
There was nothing else to do, so I took my time making breakfast. I fried up sausages, onions, peppers, and sautéed everything in butter. I added half-and-half to the eggs and poured them into a buttery pan.
“It smells delicious,” Billie said. She picked up one of my flying magazines and started to work on a crossword puzzle. “Four letter word for first airline in Alaska.”
“W-E-I-N,” I said, pouring the vegetables over the eggs and adding cheese.
“Weird word.” She shook her head, writing it down.
“Not weird. Wein.”
She didn’t ask me for any other hints, though I could see she wasn’t even halfway done with the puzzle. She kept pausing to peer out the window to check the snow.
“How did you sleep?” I asked her, treading lightly. I wanted to know if she remembered anything. Did she know what she’d said to me as I tucked her into bed?
“Why?” She looked up from her magazine, eyes narrowing. “Did I wake up last night? I’m remembering something.”
“You did wake up,” I said slowly.
“Did I say something weird?”
“No,” I said, lying. If she didn’t remember, I wasn’t going to tell her. What good would that do? We were just starting to get along. “The outside shutter at the end of the hall broke loose and was banging against the house. It was really loud, so I closed it, and you woke up.”
“I kind of remember that,” she said quietly, her eyes narrowing. “I thought I dreamed it.”
“You did not.”
“Wait, did I crash into you?” She pointed to me, her eyes still narrow as if she were trying to mentally reconstruct a crime scene.
“Just for a second. I am a pretty tough guy. You didn’t injure me. You said something about the window opening at home.”
“Yeah, it did. Same thing happened before I came up here. I was in Gran’s room … ” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. “Anyway, never mind. Sorry I bumped into you, and thanks for fixing it.”
Billie didn’t seem to remember anything beyond the shutter breaking loose. I supposed that was a good thing, but my mind could not un-hear her confession.
You make me wet.
I flipped the enormous omelet for a second time to make sure it was evenly cooked. I sliced it in half and plated them both, setting one half in front of Billie.
“Your breakfast is served,” I said, changing the subject.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, sitting down. “Let’s eat and give the snow some time to stop, then we’ll head out there and see how bad it is. If the wind chill goes away, it won’t be nearly as dangerous.”
“Okay,” she said, sighing.
We ate in silence, both of us watching the snow fall. I knew there was an ice cube’s chance in hell this snow was going to stop today, but I wasn’t going to share. I figured if I stayed calm, we could wait it out and then hoof it into town. If we walked along the river, it would take about thirty minutes. That was about the max amount of time we could be in the cold.
“I know you want to call your mom,” I said.
“Which you probably think is stupid,” she said.
“I don’t.”
“Do you talk to your mom or your family?” she asked, taking another sip of her coffee.
My chest constricted at the question. A pang of unsaid words pulsed inside me. I hadn’t been asked about my family in a long while.
“That’s a long pause,” she said, smiling. “Sorry if I am prying.”
“Nope. It’s a fair question. And no, we don’t talk.” I clamped my mouth shut. There was an ease to conversation with Billie that made me lower my defenses, so I needed to find something else for us to do besides sit around and talk.
“Hey, how about Scrabble?” I asked.
“What?” Billie looked confused. “You want to play Scrabble?”
“Of course I want to play Scrabble?” I stood up and cleared the table. “Look, there is literally nothing for us to do here. We can’t go outside. It’s dangerously cold, and that snow isn’t stopping. I don’t have a signal. You don’t have a battery.”
“What about your computer?” she said, standing up and following me while I cleared dishes. “You said you go online.”
“I use Mason’s computer or take my laptop to town.” I nodded out the window. “I spend a lot of time at the airport, which means I can pop on over and use the computer at the Buzz On In Bakery Cafe.”
“You don’t even have a computer here,” she said, deadpanning. “How do you function? ”
“I function just fine,” I said.
“And you don’t go online or check email.”
“Not that I need to explain myself, but I make it a point to decompress out here, which means I check email when I want to, which is rarely. I’m actually overdue to give your Gran an update on the place.”
Something flashed across her face, a look I couldn’t read. “It’s fine,” she whispered.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she fired back. “I can’t believe I’m stuck here, and nobody knows but you.”
“Well, I’m guessing your mom knows you are here,” I said. “You told her where you were going, right? Didn’t you say you texted her?”
“I did,” she said. “I told her I’d call her tomorrow, which is today, right now.”
“Listen.” I looked outside. “We have, what, over three feet of snow out there? I guarantee you this storm hit Denver, too. Probably not as hard, but I am sure your mom knows that you ran into weather on your way to Smoke River.”
“She will be worried,” she whispered.
“Yes, and we will figure out how to get into town tonight so you can call her.”
“Tonight?” She looked at the ceiling.
“I’m just guessing.”
“Okay,” she said, her big brown eyes locking on mine. “You promise we’ll go into town so I can call?”
“I mean, yeah. I promise I will try.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I suppose that’s enough.”
I got up and walked across the room, taking a faded Scrabble box out of the cupboard. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”