Page 31 of Stuck on the Slopes

I liked to think that maybe I brought a little Florida sunshine with me. Perhaps it was why we worked so well together: my rays helped him thaw, and his chill ensured that things never got so warm it was suffocating.

Chapter 9

Juniper

Mystomachwasinknots. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Rachel got sick. This was her first real winter, ever, so it was only a matter of time before her immune system realized it didn’t know what the hell was going on or how to handle the increased likelihood of colds spreading around. I hadn’t gotten a cold in ages, thanks to spending the bulk of my time alone, but I wasn’t worried about catching it myself. The moment she told me, I grabbed some zinc for both of us—as a preventative for me and to shorten her cold—and I became mindful of my vitamin C intake.

But I was worried about her. There were too many horror stories of winter colds turning into something more fatal for my liking, and I’d spent enough time in a hospital for the two of us. I wouldn’t wish that on her, or anyone, not even the people who betrayed me, and thus I detested the most.

As I stared at my tincture bottle on the kitchen counter, I zoned out. I must have been standing at the counter for far too long—the process typically only took a few seconds—because Sasquatch stared up at me expectantly, eyes wide and curious why I was still there, staring at the bottle and not actually taking my morning dose.

Sasquatch nudged my right leg with his snout. It snapped me out of my train of thought. “Thanks, buddy.” I tilted my head to the right, then to the left, letting it crack each way.

I went through the motions after that: a quick stretch, strapping Sasquatch into his vest and then making our way out the door. Bounding straight for the mailbox, Sasquatch was unbothered thanks to his fur and boots. He was smart enough to know our routine by now. Even with several layers to keep warm, the chill cut right through my clothes.

Before I moved into the ski lodge, my mailbox was in the bottom row of a shared box. If I gave Sasquatch the key, which I’d retrofitted onto a stick so he wouldn’t accidentally swallow it, he could unlock and open it, hand me the stick, and then retrieve my mail with minimal slobber.

Now, the mailbox was a normal, singular box made of lacquered cedar wood with a vintage ski on either side of the post. The red flag and the wood popped against the snow surrounding us. Since I didn’t need to bend over and risk hurting my back, I didn’t need Sasquatch’s help to fetch the mail anymore. But I could tell he truly loved it, so whenever I opened the box, I let him jump up to grab it in his mouth to hand to me.

“Thanks, bud.”

I shuffled through the mail as we walked back to the lodge, and I saw some misplaced for Edgar. The Elk’s Head had its own box, but occasionally, the mail people decided it was close enough. At least I was on my way there anyway to pick up the order I requested he whip up.

Not for me. For her.

Maybe I’d died and a much kinder soul had taken over my body.

Since I wasn’t in the mood to potentially bump into any customers at The Elk’s Head, I went in through the back, cutting through the kitchen to reach Edgar directly. Through the window, I could see only one couple seated at a table against the back wall.

The cook and server didn’t acknowledge me as I made my way through the kitchen, just the way I liked it. Edgar was in the back with a pen between his teeth as he reviewed some paperwork. He chuckled and shook his head when he saw me.

“I’m getting you a hair net for Christmas,” he said by way of greeting.

“Sorry. I’ll call OSHA on myself if it makes you feel better.”

“You’ve got it tied back today, so you’re passable. Here.” He placed the to-go bag on an empty counter space near us. “How’s she faring? She’s much nicer than you, so Mia and I miss her.”

“For fuck’s sake, Edgar, it’s been two days.”

“And you acted like someone pissed in your cereal all day Friday and yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Sasquatch did.”

“Yes, the highly trained service dog relieved himself in your cereal bowl. How believable.”

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my wallet and paid. “Thank you. Keep the change.” Then, I dropped his mail on the counter. “Also, not to add to your stack, but this was in the mailbox for you.”

“Thanks. Before you go, I’ve seen some reporters swarming around. I’ve even had a few morning crews come in for breakfast now and then. They think I’m stupid, but I know they’re not here for the food.”

I huffed. “Wonderful.”

“With it getting closer to opening? Don’t be so surprised. I reckon it’s a good thing, but I know you hate the news like my daughter hates spiders. One of them even emailed me this morning about the lodge. I ignored it, but I think the local news has caught wind of the fact you own the place now and they really want an interview.”

I frowned. “Who told them?”

“Nobody, I reckon.” Edgar shrugged. “Property records like that are public. Someone probably saw the lodge got picked up, got curious, and then saw your name.”

I sighed. “Shit. Everyone wonders why I’m an asshole until they read an article about me. But I’m used to them forgetting I’m an actual person with feelings and a right to privacy at this point. They’ve pestered me my entire life, and they’ve been like fucking roaches ever since the accident. I finally thought I’d shaken them off.”

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