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He had just finished the chorus when there was a knock at his door. Startled, he jumped and his pencil went flying, pinging off the wall and skidding to a stop under his desk. “Fuck,” he muttered.Who the hell was at the door?
He opened the door and was immediately hit with a blast of cold wind, which snapped at the curtains just inside the front doorway. His neighbor stood there, a cheerful smile on his face despite the wind buffeting him. Ambrose frowned but said, “Hello again.”
“Hi. Hey so uh…” Barrett held up a cooler. “Caught a bunch, and I used to share my catch with Per - the guy who lived here before. Wanted to see if you were interested.”
There was an earnestness on that heavily bearded face and Ambrose found himself relenting. Hard not to when Barrett was staring at him so openly, dark brown eyes looking right at him and not past to see the house. “Yeah, sure.” Ambrose stepped aside and then scrambled to close the door against that blistering, damnable wind.
The door caught in his grip and would have whipped outwards had it not been for the extra hand suddenly wrapped around the edge. “Wild out there now,” Barrett rumbled at him. Entirely too close. Close enough that Ambrose couldsmellhim, for fucks sake. Fish, yes, but Ambrose enjoyed fishing and didn’t mind it. It was the whiff of clean laundry and rosemary that somehow fit the man and lingered in his nostrils.
Together, they got the door shut against the wind. When Ambrose turned, Barrett was standing behind him, tugging his boots off while the cooler sat on the floor. “Oh, no you don’t have to do that.”
Barrett smiled at him. “No, I do. The floors are nice in here and besides, I’m not one to go walking through someone else’s house and track what-have-you everywhere.”
Discomfited by the casual familiarity of Barrett’s boots by his, Ambrose took his coat and then led him to the kitchen. “I’ve got coffee or tea or beer,” he said flatly, really not wanting Barrett to stick around longer than to drop off the fish.
“Oh, nah, I gotta get back and finish up some maps. But here.” One big hand flipped open the cooler and soon Ambrose’s kitchen island was piled with vacuum sealed fish filets. “Most of them are plain but I’ve got a few with some spices, rosemary sprigs, that kind of thing. I grew all the herbs myself.”
That explained the rosemary. “Really, just a couple of plain ones are fine. It’s unexpected but appreciated.”
There was that smile again and then Barrett huffed a laugh. “Yeah well, it’s just me over there and I know how hard it is to cook for one. Thought I’d share the wealth.”
He handed Ambrose a few packets of fish, then paused and picked up one more. “Do me a favor? It’s a new spice rub I put together. Let me know how it is, and don’t be shy.”
Their fingers brushed as Ambrose took the packet with a nod. He felt foolish, finding this all a little too familiar, tooclose. He wasn’t adverse to people or company in general. He simply needed more time than most to recharge the social batteries after interacting with others. He’d been in relationships (most of which had fizzled when the other party got tired of Ambrose needing time alone). He had friends.
Something about this big man with the soft eyes and kind smile was making him twitch. And that wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to stay in the hills and write and record and work and enjoy the quiet. It didn’t have room for anyone, not even a nice neighbor.
Barrett seemed happy with his nod, saying, “All right. Appreciate it.” And then he was snapping the cooler shut and tugging on his boots, carefully holding them over the rug so as not to drip on the hardwood floors. “Be careful if you head out past Route 3, icy as hell when I was out there this morning.”
That caught his interest. The weather had been horrible all day, and from the number of times he’d seen Barrett out chopping wood, smoking meat, or tending to his property, he’d figured the man had stocked up well. He also didn’t seem the type to head out into shit weather for no reason. “Wasn’t planning on going out, but thank you. Did you go to town or…?”
One arm in his coat, Barrett twisted around to say, “Nah. I had to get up into the foothills to check the trails. There’s always at least one person who thinks days like this are great for starting to learn to hike or cross-country ski. We usually pull two or three out during the winter, so I decided to be proactive and check the places I know people usually get stuck.” He laughed, and then said, “I’m a forest ranger.”
Pieces clicked in place. Hells, Barrett was aprofessional loner. Any kind of major outdoor career usually dealt with long hours in all kinds of weather, and usually alone. “Oh, I had no idea. I’m assuming no one was out.”
“No, but I was ready for it.” And now, coat, gloves, and hat back on, Barrett looked all the more rough and tough woodsman. Later, he might marvel at the disparity between Barrett’s appearance and his calm, casual demeanor. Appearances were deceiving and all that. “Anyways, appreciate the let-in. Enjoy the fish, Ambrose.”
And then he was gone with a wave, the blistering cold wind and beginning snowfall making Barrett disappear like so much smoke between their houses.
That night, Ambrose made that specially spiced fish and enjoyed the way the smoked paprika and garam masala rolled around on his tongue. The green tea wouldn’t pair well with it, but his homemade beer did. He’d have to tell Barrett the next time he saw him.
Chapter three
WhenBarrettawoketosnow covering his windows, he sighed. The best season, and the hardest, had begun. Lake Honor was a winter wonderland, Hallmark dream covered in snow and frost, but the natural beauty of the weather also brought out some rather frightening stupidity. He couldn’t blame folks for wanting to learn outdoor activities, even in the cold temperatures, and everyone had to start somewhere. But no matter how many bulletins they posted or paths they closed off, there was always someone who pooh-poohed at the rules, as if they existed only to annoy and not for the safety of all.
As he was leaving the house in the pre-dawn hours, the kitchen light flickered. Hmmm. He’d best check the generator again when he got back from work; if it was snowing this hard in early November, chances were good the winter would be a long, cold one. Barrett made a mental note to double check his firewood and ask Ambrose if he needed any.
As he climbed into his truck, he spared a glance over at Ambrose’s dark windows. He’d noticed Ambrose wasn’t a morning person and he had to admit it was funny to see anyone around here sleep past sunrise. Those who lived around the lake tended to keep time with the sun, or what little there was along the coast in the winter.
He didn’t know much about his new neighbor at all, and it rankled some part of him. He knew that was him grieving his friendship with Perry, like the cold making one’s joints ache. But aside from knowing the man could play guitar and he was a writer or something like it, Ambrose was a mystery. And that was strange. They might all keep to themselves out here, but they all were there when someone needed help or had a cookout. If he was a suspicious person, he might think Ambrose had moved in at the start of winter to avoid getting chummy with folks.
If he was a suspicious person, and he wasn’t.
He couldn’t begrudge the man his privacy or solitude. Hell, he picked being a forest ranger largely for the chance atmorepeace and quiet. Perry’s absence was just something he’d need to deal with on his own time, and not make presumptions on the man who now lived in his dead friend’s house.
All thoughts of Ambrose and Perry and the lingering, raw wound on his heart were vanquished when Barrett pulled up to the ranger station to discover chaos unfolding. “Need you, B!” Meredith shouted as she darted by, med kit in hand. “Bridge collapse trapped a couple of trail runners and a few people tried to help, but it’s worse.”
Adrenaline shot through his system but he didn’t waver. He’d been a paramedic before a forest ranger and he kept up on his various trainings and skills in order to be of greater use to the team. He and Meredith were the only certified paramedics on staff but they needed more. They always needed more - funding, supplies, vehicles, maps. On and on and on.
