Snow Falls, page 3
“You know, maybe you should be a novelist,” she said with a slight smile. “Your imagination is certainly active.”
Chapter Five
Sleeping arrangements had not occurred to her. She had spent the evening trying to curb her curiosity and limit her questions, even though Ryan rarely answered one anyway. Dinner had been simple. Canned soup. She hadn’t had much of an appetite so the light fare was perfect. She’d sorted through the backpack she’d had the forethought to grab from the SUV. It contained two pairs of jeans, three long-sleeved T-shirts, two bulky sweaters, and thankfully, panties and bras. Not much for several weeks but Ryan assured her the utility room contained a functioning washer and dryer. She’d left the backpack on the floor, not wanting to get into Ryan’s space. Ryan had watched her doing inventory of the pack but had not commented, other than to mention laundry. The silence continued after their quick dinner. The sitting area contained one recliner, which Ryan used, and a small, undersized sofa, which Jen had claimed. The dogs took the rug. The stove kept the area plenty warm and Jen would admit that it was cozy. The only light came from a lamp positioned between them and the stove, which gave off a cheery glow, making for a comfortable end to the day. Quiet, but comfortable. They’d both had their laptops out, Ryan tapping away on something she chose not to talk about and Jen deciding to write a journal about her adventure so far. Not exactly a writer’s workshop but in case something happened to her—like getting hacked up into tiny pieces—maybe someone would find her journal and know of her fate. But at ten minutes before ten, Ryan had closed her laptop and stood, pausing to stretch. She said nothing as she slipped on her coat and took the dogs outside, presumably for a potty break. Jen took this as a sign of bedtime.
Now, after her turn in the bathroom—using a donated toothbrush from Ryan—she waited for instructions. Ryan and the dogs were in the bedroom and Jen stood nervously in the small hallway.
“You coming or what?”
The kitchen and sitting areas were dark. She turned toward the bedroom, finding Ryan standing by the bed, a lit lamp on either side. Jen looked at her and swallowed.
“You’re offering to share your bed?” she asked quietly.
“Do you have another idea?”
“I can probably fit on the sofa,” Jen suggested.
“Yeah, you’re pretty short. You’d probably fit. Although if you have to spend six or eight weeks on it, that’s going to get very old.”
Jen drew her brows together. “Short? I’m not short.”
Ryan said nothing as she pulled back the covers. Then, as if an afterthought, “The stove in here should last until morning. But if you get up to pee, toss a log inside, would you?”
Ryan turned out the lamp on her side and got in the bed, leaving Jen standing in the doorway. She sighed. Had to get lost, didn’t you? Speaking of getting old, being stuck here with a woman who barely speaks could get very tiresome. Could be worse though, she thought. She could have been buried in an avalanche. But still, she hesitated. She’d shared a bed with only one other person in her entire life. And even then, she wasn’t comfortable. Brad was used to it now and it was rare that he stayed the night anymore.
She let out a deep breath again, taking one last look into the darkened living room, seeing a faint glow through the window. The moon? Maybe tomorrow would prove sunny. Ryan had mentioned a hike up along the ridge to see if they could get a signal on her phone. Jen assumed when she didn’t show up at the lodge that someone would call her agent as she was the one who had booked her into the workshop. She needed to let Susan know she was okay, at least. And Brad, of course.
She maneuvered around the dogs that were sprawled out on the rug. Neither lifted their heads, but their eyes followed her progress as she went to the opposite side of the bed. Ryan had her back to her and Jen quietly lifted the covers, then realized she was still completely dressed. She kicked off her boots and stepped out of her jeans, leaving her socks on. She debated on whether to remove her sweater as well and decided to leave it on. She turned the light out, then eased into bed, hugging the side, staying as far away from Ryan as possible. On her back, she stared at the ceiling, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, broken only by the orange glow that escaped the confines of the stove, their heat source for the night. She should be exhausted after the stressful day she’d had, yet she felt wide awake. The minutes ticked away slowly as her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. Sleep would not come. Even so, Ryan’s voice startled her.
“If you’re worried, I promise I won’t chop you into little pieces and bury you in the snow.”
“That’s comforting. Thanks.” Jen wondered how Ryan knew she wasn’t asleep. She hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d gotten in the bed.
“I couldn’t bury you in the snow anyway. You know it’s going to melt eventually. There’d be evidence.”
Jen’s eyes widened and she swallowed nervously. After what seemed an abnormally long moment of silence, Ryan rolled over onto her back.
“I could, I suppose, haul you up to the edge of Cooper’s Peak and drop you into Cutter’s Canyon. Old Johnnie Cutter would be the only one who might possibly stumble on your body someday.”
Jen could barely breathe, and she was afraid to move a muscle. She really is a crazy old hermit. Panic set in and she was about to bolt from the bed when Ryan clamped a hand around her arm. Jen just barely stifled a scream.
“I’m kidding,” Ryan said, a smile in her voice. “You know that, right?”
Jen took a deep breath, swallowing down her fear. “So are you telling me you have a sense of humor? I mean, it’s a sick one, but still...”
Ryan gave a short laugh, then again rolled over away from her. “Goodnight, Jennifer Kincaid.”
Jen turned her head slowly, staring at the back of Ryan’s head. “Goodnight.” Despite feeling less threatened, she knew she’d still have a hard time falling asleep. Growing up the way she had, with the fear of everything instilled in her, having someone in her bed was an abnormality. Even after all these years with Brad, she still couldn’t sleep comfortably with him. It was on a rare occasion that he suggested he stay the night. Or vice versa. Now, surprisingly, she found herself drifting off. She let her eyes slip closed, giving in to her exhaustion.
Chapter Six
The sun was magnificently bright, and Ryan shielded her eyes, turning to find Jen staring off across the mountains, her cheeks red from the wind but a slight smile on her face. God, she’s pretty. Jen glanced at Ryan, as if sensing her watching.
“It’s so beautiful. Simple words can’t do it justice.”
Ryan nodded. “I can think of lots of words in a dictionary where this scene could be used as the definition. Like ‘pristine.’”
Jen looked back toward the cabin, the trees white and laden with snow. She glanced at Ryan. “Immaculate.”
Ryan nodded. “Exhilarating.”
Jen tilted her head, a smile on her face. “Inspirational.”
“Splendor.”
“Radiance.”
Ryan laughed. “Okay. So you get the idea.” She walked on, hearing Jen following. Sierra and Kia were running ahead of them, and Ryan followed their tracks. They had a trail established, keeping the snow packed down. Not only was the ridge the only place she could get a cell signal, it was also the spot for a perfect sunset. “So, Santa Fe, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Rented the SUV, drove from Santa Fe, through the mountains, up Wolf Creek Pass, through Creede to Lake City. In the dead of winter. For a writer’s retreat?”
“That’s the point. It’s the dead of winter. You’re stuck in a lodge. You don’t lose your focus. You want to get snowed in.”
“Well, you got that part right, at least.”
“Are you going to call me an idiot again?”
“No, no. I think we’re past that.”
Jen huffed behind her, her feet crunching loudly in the snow. “Like I said, I suck with directions. Always have,” she explained. “But this seemed so straightforward.”
Ryan stopped, letting Jen catch her breath. Both dogs came running back down toward them, their tongues hanging out as they danced in the snow. Ryan petted each of them, then watched as Jen did the same.
“So who’s going to miss you?”
Jen looked up, frowning. “What?”
“You know, when you don’t show at the lodge. Who are they going to call? Boyfriend? Husband?”
Jen shook her head. “No. They’ll call Susan, my agent. Brad wasn’t all that enthused about me taking this trip. He and Susan don’t really get along, but I suppose she’ll call him.”
“Brad?”
“Boyfriend,” Jen said. Then she shrugged. “I guess. I mean, he wants to get married.”
“Fiancé then?”
Jen looked past her, to the west where the towering peaks of the San Juan Mountains hovered. She had a pensive look on her face. Ryan wondered what thoughts were going through her mind. She turned back to Ryan, and again Ryan was stunned by the blueness of her eyes.
“He hasn’t officially asked. And there’s no ring,” she said, holding up her gloved hands.
Ryan moved on, continuing up the trail. “So you’re not ready?”
Jen laughed. “That’s so cliché, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s an excuse, anyway.”
“Yes. And I shouldn’t need an excuse.”
Ryan stopped again. “So?”
But Jen waved her on. “No. I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, last night you gave me the impression that you don’t like to talk. Why all the questions today?”
What could she say? The curiosity was brought about by the writer in her. Of course, it wouldn’t do to tell Jen that. She could only imagine her reaction to that bit of news. “Just making conversation,” she said instead.
Up this high along the ridge, trees were few and far between, only a handful of hearty firs taking hold in the rocks. A group of noisy nutcrackers gathered in one, shaking the snow from the branches as they landed.
“What are they?” Jen asked.
“Clark’s nutcrackers,” she said. “I’ve got some birdseed at the cabin. I’m just not real diligent about keeping the feeders filled. We can put some out later, if you like.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Jen nodded. “I’d like that.”
Ryan walked a few more feet, taking out her cell phone. She checked the signal. Only three bars, but enough for a call. “Got a signal.”
“Do you know the number to the lodge?”
“No. I’ll just call Chief Daniels,” she said, finding Reese’s number in her contact list.
“Who is that?”
“Sheriff,” she explained. “And a friend.”
Jen laughed. “A friend? Do hermits have friends?”
“I’m allowed two,” Ryan said with a smile, turning away from Jen as Reese answered.
“Hey, Ryan. What a surprise. Everything okay up there?”
“Yeah. I guess,” she said, glancing at Jen. “Cooper’s Peak dropped its load,” she said.
“I figured. So did Cutter’s Chute,” Reese said. “You got your wish. You’re stuck up there now. How’s the writing going?”
“At a standstill,” she said. “I kinda have company,” she said quietly, although Jen did not appear to be listening. She was playing with the dogs, tossing snowballs up in the air and laughing delightfully as the dogs attempted to catch them. “Jennifer Kincaid,” she said. “She was on her way to Patterson’s Lodge when she got stranded.”
“What the hell was she doing up there?”
“She thought she would take the forest road across the mountain.”
“In the winter? That road’s been closed for two months.”
“Yeah. We’ve been over all that already,” Ryan said. “Avalanche buried her vehicle.”
“She’s damn lucky. Do I need to request a helicopter rescue?”
Ryan glanced over at Jen who still seemed oblivious to the conversation. Six weeks? Maybe eight? It could all be over within a few days if the winds died down. Of course, they would charge Jen a fortune for the rescue. She stared at her, her cheeks red and glowing, her smile lighting up her face as she played with the dogs. Beautiful. “No,” she said, surprising herself with the answer. “No need for a rescue mission. We’ll wait until they plow the lower road, then hike down.”
“That’s gonna be at least another six weeks yet,” Reese cautioned.
“Yeah. I know. But I have enough supplies for both of us.”
“Damn. What’s wrong with you? Let me guess. She’s young and pretty?”
Ryan laughed, again looking over at Jen. This time, Jen was looking back at her. “Definitely. Once I get satellite back, I’ll shoot you guys an e-mail and let you know what happened and let you get in touch with her rental agency. In the meantime, can you call Ellen? She’s got her contact information.”
“Will do. I’ll take care of it. Keep in touch when you can.”
“Yeah. I’ll check in occasionally.”
“Do that. I know Morgan is going to be pestering me for information. You might send a picture of this woman, huh?”
Ryan smiled and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She disconnected, then held the phone out to Jen. “You want to call someone? Brad?”
Jen shook her head. “My phone was in the SUV,” she said. “Like most people, I don’t memorize numbers anymore.”
“Okay. Well, Reese said she’d call Ellen, the owner of the lodge.”
Jen studied her silently for a moment. “So you’re friends with the sheriff?”
“Yes.”
“Did you...get into trouble or something?”
Ryan laughed. “Yeah. I tried to hack up a tourist last summer.” She whistled for the dogs, and they both came running. “I met Reese and Morgan—that’s her partner—at Sloan’s Bar in Lake City. Real hermits aren’t supposed to go into town for burgers.”
“So they’ve revoked your membership?”
“Yeah,” she said, heading back down toward the cabin. “We became friends. Lesbians do tend to stick together.” Several steps later, she realized Jen was no longer following her. She turned back around, finding Jen stopped, staring at her. “What?”
“You’re...you’re a...lesbian?”
Ryan shrugged. “You didn’t know?”
“How would I know? You didn’t mention it. And you’re not wearing a sign.”
“Sorry. I just assumed.” She continued on, shaking her head. Great, now you’ve scared the poor girl. Maybe she should reconsider the helicopter rescue.
“We...we slept in the same bed.”
Ryan laughed. “Yeah, but lucky for you, I’m not contagious.”
“But—”
Ryan stopped again. “What is it? Are you afraid of me now? You think maybe I’ll try something and if you don’t give in to my advances, I’ll actually hack you up into little pieces?” She smiled but knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “Trust me, straight women with fiancés waiting in the wings don’t excite me in the least. You’re perfectly safe.”
“It’s just...you’re nothing like what my grandfather used to preach about.”
“Huh?”
Chapter Seven
Jen tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help it. Ryan was so attractive. Nothing like the women her grandfather described as being homosexual. She wasn’t wearing men’s clothing. Well, no more than she herself was, she thought as she glanced at her jeans and boots. Ryan wasn’t pretending to be a man, like her grandfather said they did. She looked normal. And as sheltered a life as Jen had had, in the last seven or eight years she’d been exposed to a lot. It wasn’t as if she’d been living under a rock. And she was a fan of Sara Michaels’ work and she too was normal. But still...
“You’re staring,” Ryan said without looking up from her laptop.
“I’m sorry.”
Jen quickly turned her attention to her journal, her fingers lightly tapping the keys at random, no words coming to her. Ryan, on the other hand, seemed to be writing furiously, her fingers flying across the keys in a graceful motion. They stilled, and Jen realized she was staring again.
“Look, it’s not like I’m an alien or anything,” Ryan said. “Just a woman, nothing more, nothing less.”
“I’m sorry,” Jen said again.
Ryan let out a heavy breath. “You have questions. Ask.”
“My grandfather said...well, never mind.”
“Yeah, what’s with your grandfather?”
Jen bit her lip. “He was a preacher. A minister,” she said. “He and my grandmother raised me.”
Ryan’s smile was humorless. “Great,” she said dryly. “I’ve rescued a homophobe.”
“He died,” Jen blurted out. “Last year.”
“And?”
Jen took a deep breath, wondering why she felt the need to explain. “I was extremely sheltered. My mother was fifteen when I was born. She was the epitome of the wild preacher’s daughter,” she said. “Drugs, alcohol...and sex.”
“So they raised you?”
“Yes. And every transgression and sin that my mother committed, I paid for. I was homeschooled,” she said. “I had no friends to speak of. And I was socially inept.” She glanced at Ryan. “Still am in some respects.”
“I see. So you’re not a homophobe then?”
“No. I don’t think so. I just don’t have any gay friends. Not that I’m insinuating you and I are friends,” she added quickly. “I was just...surprised, I guess. Socially inept and all,” she said with a smile.
“Well, they must have done something right,” Ryan said. “You’ve written three books.”
Jen laughed. “Self-help books,” she corrected. “Something I kept a secret from them, by the way. They wouldn’t approve.” She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, picturing her grandfather’s face. Oh, she could only imagine his scorn. “I grew up in West Texas, near Lubbock,” she said.
