“Just, it’s just…I don’t know your name.”
Todd groans, I assume in embarrassment for his dad’s manners—I assume they’re his kids, they have the same grey eyes.
“Sorry ‘bout that. I’m Jack. Nice to meet you. Ready?”
“Nice to meet you, Jack, who works on Frost Mountain.” I try really hard to keep a straight face, but it’s really hard. Jack doesn’t seem to think it’s funny. He shifts the truck into four-wheel-drive and proceeds slowly down the ranch driveway.
“I farted,” Cliff announces. Todd punches him, but they both laugh. I cough to cover up my smile.
It’s going to be a long ride to the top.
Chapter 3
Jack
Even though Anna and her husband Han said they were up here last night, and the cabin was stocked and ready, it’s not. Well, it probably is fantastic on the inside, but only if we can get inside. A giant wall of snow blocks the driveway. The snow really packs a punch up here.
“Can’t you just plow through?” Dr. Holly asks with her cute voice.
“I can’t, as I can’t just push the snow forever—it compacts and makes a wall. We’ll park here.”
“Where’s the cabin?” Her voice is no longer cute, but panicky in pitch.
“It’s right over there. Not a big deal. You can make out the eaves beneath the trees.” I point, and she squints her green eyes, then nods along. “The boys will help.”
Contrasting “Yep!” and “Ugh, do I have to?” chorus from the backseat. I don’t answer. Instead, I get out, grab the shovel from the back of the truck, and start shoveling. Well, speed shoveling. I really want to get an initial path laid for them to walk, and get the fire started inside. Even if Han and Anna spent the entire dayhere yesterday, the weather will have sucked any heat out of it by now.
The inside is tidy. There’s a welcome note on the counter, and a basket with coffee, tea, and cookies. There’s even a garland with red bows hung across the big front windows. Anna was so excited to have this scientist study a comet in our cabin! She shrieked it at me every time I said she was going overboard in preparing. She wanted to redecorate the entire thing for one weekend of use. This cabin was our parents’ first home, before they built the ranch house lower on the mountain. This is where their love was forged; our family was made. But as I tried to tell Anna, this Dr. Holly Doughty doesn’t care about our family legacy and love. She cares only about a giant ball of ice up in the sky. Hans told me to let it go; I was never going to win this fight with my sister. He was right.
There’s a nice big stack of dry wood on the hearth, and the woodstove is pre-loaded. I don’t even take my boots off—I won’t tell Anna—just march right over and start the fire. That way it can warm while we get all the science gear stuff unloaded.
I don’t want to be in a hurry. I want to let Cliff ask all his questions, now that he’s learned women can “do science too.” I want Todd to listen to her explain something that isn’t horses or video games. Truthfully, I just want to sit with a cup of tea and watch her mouth move, forming sounds that make intelligent words.
But this blizzard is building, and if I’m going to get these boys home so we can actually enjoy our Christmas, we need to hurry.
One by one, the boys and Dr. Holly bring bins of gear inside. I help them, and shovel more, trying to make sure we can back out to the road safely. Once the truck is empty except for myemergency bag, and the snow is shaken off of everyone and the door is shut, I can finally feel the warmth of the fire building.
Dr. Holly—I have to keep her honorific in place to maintain composure—takes off her toque and sweater. Oh nelly. The woman is voluptuous, curvy, and smells like gingerbread. I have to clench my hands into fists to keep them from running up and down her arms, her sides, petting all of her, right here and now. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since Becca. I’m all teenage boy hormones gaga over this woman, and I have no way to get away from her.
Thankfully, my sons are clowns, and no one is paying attention to me while I deal with my hard-on at the comet lady before me.
“You were going to show me the generator?” When I realize she’s talking to me, asking me to do my damned job, she’s right next to me. I can feel the heat radiating from her. I want to just soak it up, envelop her in my arms and submerge myself in her heat.
“The generator, yes! It’s outside, but the switches are down the hall in the bedroom. Follow me.” It takes me three steps to realize the error I’m committing, that I can’t get out of. The bedroom, with a very comfortable king-sized bed, away from the raucous of the boys, who are heating up the tamale casserole I brought and playing on their Nintendo Switch they don’t leave home without.
This cabin was originally just one room, with one small bed. My folks upgraded it after they built the big house. It still has only one real bedroom, but now it contains a loft with a couple sets of bunk beds for the grandkids. Becca and I lived here briefly when we first got married. Let’s just say there are a lot of good memories here. It was our first sanctuary.
“Oh, this is so lovely!” Dr. Holly rests her hand on the quilt my mother made that rests at the foot of the bed. I open the closet and step in, then beckon her to follow me. Against the outside wall is the metal panel. The closeness of her is intoxicating, and I have to think about types of rocks in my head to get the fog of her to clear. Opening the metal panel, I show her all the switches, trying not to inhale her scent as I do so. Keep it together, Jack.
“You shouldn’t have to touch any of these. But given the amount of snow we’ve already gotten, you’ll probably lose power. This switch here,” I put my calloused finger on the red switch, “turns the generator on.” Then I tap the hour meter beside it. “You’ll track how long it’s on here. I’ll double-check, but the fuel should be full. Just run it for about four hours at a time. While it’s running, charge your laptop, use the lights, make sure the fridge is on.”
“Oh. Okay. I should be making notes.” She turns around, I presume to get a piece of paper, her hair throwing more gingerbread scent at me. I grab her arm to stop her. Jesus, I’m going to hell. My fingers dig into her bicep, and the sensation of softness, mixed with the rest of all my sensory overload, is too much. It takes every ounce of strength not to pull her into me and kiss her full, red lips.
“Hey, it’s okay. The notes are here.” I tap the metal panel with my free hand. Everything is written in neat script. Her shoulders visibly relax when she scans the text.
“Oh good. That’s a lot of information. I can run technical telescopes and advanced mathematical calculations, but this feels…hard.” It’s a nervous laugh, but it’s cute nonetheless.
“Your cell probably won’t work, especially in the snow. But there’s a landline. The house number is written beside it. You can call me if you need help.”
