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"We saw elk yesterday," Evan reminded him.
"I'd rather see the Grinch," Eric grumbled.
"Or Sesame Street. I miss Bert and Ernie, don't you?" Evan tumbled on top of his brother and brought him down with a thud.
"Elmo. And Oscar." Eric sat on his brother's chest. "And Beavis…"
"And Butthead."
"How do you guys know about Beavis and Butthead?" Cale asked over his shoulder.
"Cathy let us watch it with her when you were in habili… that place. After you got hurt," Evan told his father.
"You mean rehabilitation." Cale frowned and made a mental note to speak with Mrs. Mason, the nanny, about what her eleven-year-old daughter was watching on television these days.
"Yeah. That." Eric nodded as he struggled to slip out of his shirt and escape from his brother, rolling over the back of the sofa their Aunt Valerie had had delivered a month before.
Evan dove for his twin, who, being a master of evasive action, turned in time to send Evan crashing into the table and pitching the lamp onto the floor.
Cale considered his roughhousing offspring, and figured it would take them another twenty minutes more to pretty much destroy all the work it had taken his sister several months to accomplish. There would be hell to pay when Val arrived. Oh, he could explain a broken lamp—make that two broken lamps, he thought as he flinched at the sound coming from their bedroom—but as proud as she had been of the fact that she had transformed the old cabin into a cozy retreat, she was not likely to have more than two lamps' worth of forgiveness to spare.
A crash from the small dining area raised the ante to two lamps and one vase.
"Boys, get your gear, we're taking a walk." He caught the little hellions as they tried to flee back down the hallway that led to two small bedrooms.
"We took a walk yesterday," Evan protested loudly.
"Well, we're taking another one today." Cale dumped the squirming bodies onto the sofa. "Get your boots and your jackets and your gloves. Let's move it."
"We don't want to go for a walk. We want to watch cartoons." Eric folded his arms across his chest and did his best to scowl.
"Yeah." Evan mimicked his twin brother's stance and his facial expression.
"Tough. We're walking. Get ready." Cale, not to be out-scowled, pointed firmly to the pile of boots inside the back door.
Still grumbling, the boys reluctantly did as they were told.
"Maybe we'll see a bald eagle," Cale said to encourage them.
"I'd rather see a bear," Eric sulked.
"Yeah. Or a wolf." His brother moped along behind him.
"Trust me, fellas," their father told them as he held the back door open, "you don't want to see a bear or a wolf from the wrong side of the window."
"We're not scared," Eric said bravely.
"Well, you should be." Cale dosed the door behind them. "Here, Evan, you can carry the binoculars and Eric can help me shake the snow off the rope."
"Why do you need to tie rope to the house?" Erie asked as he followed his father's lead and pulled the length of rope loose from the snow that had drifted to cover it
"You tie the rope from the house to the shed where the wood is stacked," Cale explained, "so that if there's a really bad storm, you can go out and get firewood and not get lost in the snow."
"How could you get lost? The house is right there." Eric pointed.
"Sometimes the wind blows the snow around so much you can't see your hand in front of your face," Cale explained, "so you would hold on to the rope and use it to lead you back to the house. Come on, guys, let's go real quietly and we'll see what just landed in that big pine tree…"
Dolefully rolling their eyes at each other, the sullen little boys trudged reluctantly through the snow behind their father.
