Page 41 of Torin

I follow, taking another look at the lodge as we cross the clearing. Up close, it feels even less like the headquarters of a bear clan. There are muddy boots lined up beside the porch, a faded outdoor cushion on one of the chairs and a watering can abandoned beside a pot of flowers.

Torin opens the front door and stands aside for me.

Inside, the lodge is cool and dim after the sun. A huge stone fireplace takes up most of one wall, with deep couches arranged around it and a long wooden table beyond. The kitchen at the back is big enough to feed a crowd.

It looks like a home.

A slightly oversized home, admittedly.

Torin heads toward the back of the lodge. “Alexandria’s stuff is this way. She and Gunnar are away for a few days.”

“Where?”

“Honeymoon.”

I glance at him. “They got married too?”

“Yeah. Alexandria wanted a wedding.”

“And Gunnar?”

“Gunnar wanted Alexandria.”

There’s something very simple about the way he says it.

He leads me down the hall and stops at a door near the end.

“This is their room.” He pushes open the door and immediately stops. “Just occurred to me I’ve never been in here when they weren’t here.”

“You’re allowed, right?”

“Alexandria won’t care.” He thinks about it. “Gunnar might.”

“Excellent.”

He goes in anyway.

The room is large but cozy, with a huge bed beneath the windows and clothes scattered over an armchair. On the dresser is a photograph of Gunnar and Alexandria standing beside a lake, his arm around her waist.

I drift closer.

Gunnar is enormous, even bigger than Torin, with a thick dark beard and an expression that suggests smiling for photographs isn’t high on his list of interests. Alexandria is tucked against his side, grinning at the camera.

Gunnar isn’t looking at the camera at all. He’s looking at her.

Something about that makes me smile.

“Think I found them,” Torin says behind me.

I turn.

He’s opened a drawer and is staring down into it.

“Wrong drawer?”

“Yep.”

I walk over and glance inside.