Chapter Thirteen
Cameron
I swung the ax splitting the log almost clean down the middle. I swung again, and the two pieces fell on either side of the chopping block. It had been a few hours since I had gotten up. I had waited for the fog to clear before coming out to get some more wood. I was going through a little more each day; the temperature was dropping faster than I had anticipated. I had a woodpile that I added to every day, along with splitting logs to use in the cabin. I had mostly gotten the hang of it. It had become part of my daily routine. The repetitive movements were great for letting me think. It was so quiet out there; any little sound caught my attention.
I stopped, hearing something. I frowned, straightening up, seeing a car drive up to the cabin. I didn't know whether there were any cabins past mine, and this wasn't really how I wanted to find out. Whoever was in there was going to do us both a favor by realizing they made a mistake and turning their car around.
It couldn't be Brett, could it? No, it wasn't his car. I didn't recognize the car at all. It was a sedan, which meant coming up here on that road must have sucked, but you know what? Maybe I wasn't far out enough. I put the ax down and headed towards the house, standing at the foot of the porch. The car stopped, and I watched as the driver's side opened.
It was her.
"Cameron?" she called, walking up. I couldn't believe it. Brett had betrayed me. He was the only person I had told where I was, so she had to have heard it from him. What was going on between those two? I didn’t want to think he was lying to his wife with her, but the other option was they were working together, trying to get me to go back and sit behind dad’s old desk like he wanted me to. Well, it wasn’t going to happen. Both of them were wasting their time. Of all the people I would have wanted to see up here... I wasn't mad, but she had been neither expected nor invited, so what was I supposed to do? Welcome her in with open arms?
This girl just didn't know when to quit, did she? She was in a parka, layered over a trench coat and that over a sweater. She had come prepared for the cold. Her hood was down though, and her hair was in loose, golden waves. Everything she had on was white and pink. With her hair and clothes and the white snow, she looked kind of angelic. Her lips were red, and she was wearing boots with a heel on them. Who the hell wore... no, of course, she was wearing that; she always looked like she'd stepped off a damn runway. She wasn't here to stay. She wasn't about to pick up an ax and help me out with the woodpile.
"It's you," I said dryly.
"It’s good to see you too," she replied sarcastically, looking around at the property.
"Well, you're not lost. What do you want?"
"This is...nice," she said. Yeah? And where did she live? The only place I could see a girl like her living was Barbie's fucking Dreamhouse.
"Want a tour?"
"Can I have one?" she asked. I hadn't been serious, but she sounded like she was. I sighed, looking back at the chopping block. I needed to get rid of her. If she was here, it was to try to twist my arm. The sooner I let her do that, the sooner she'd leave.
"Let's get inside," I offered. She followed me up the porch steps.
"Were you doing something when I came?" she asked.
"Nope," I lied, holding the door open. She smiled at me and walked in.
"Wow," she said appreciatively, slipping her parka off her shoulders. The cabin had been redone recently, so it had great insulation. The worst of the cold hadn't gotten here yet, so I was happy for that. As far as cabins went though, I guessed it was nice. It wasn’t bad, at least. The wood was all finished, and its design was rustic without feeling too old fashioned.
"This is the kitchen, that is the living room, through there is the bathroom, and the bedroom is up those steps," I said, giving her the layout of the place. The open plan meant she could see it all right from where she was near the door. My little kingdom at the top of the mountain. I walked past her into the kitchen. "Do you want coffee or something?"
"Coffee sounds good," she said, walking into the living room. "Thanks." I looked back over my shoulder at her where I was at the stove. She was looking around, walking slowly around the space, stopping at the windows and looking outside. "It's beautiful out here."
"Yup."
"Do you need help with that?" she asked. The water in the percolator was beginning to bubble a little. The coffee would be done soon. I had snagged the vintage Pyrex percolator from my parents’ house and had finally gotten the hang of making drinkable coffee using it. Mom had a whole collection of vintage china and other cookware. It wasn't like she'd be needing it, and I hadn't been about to haul a Keurig up here.
"No," I said, distractedly, getting one mug out of the cabinet and rinsing the other one that I had used for breakfast off before drying it. I had two of everything, clearly not prepared for guests. I hadn’t made Brett take an oath of secrecy, but I was still a little peeved that he told on me. I hadn’t had to deal with another person in about a week, so it was a little weird, but social interaction was probably one of those things you couldn’t truly forget. "You're not hungry, are you?"
"No," she said. I turned and looked at her. She was trying the door to the deck, but it was locked.
"Key's on the loop on the front door," I told her. She went over and got it, opening the door to the deck. She disappeared outside for a few moments while I poured the coffee. How did she take it? I always had mine black. I picked up both the mugs and walked out onto the deck. It was covered, with steps leading down to the ground. Behind the house, the ground sloped down, and I thought there was a creek at the bottom, but I wasn't sure. I hadn't explored that far. The tree cover was decent but not too dense. I always saw deer when I'd come out. If you were just looking out at it from inside a house or on a television screen, it looked calm, silent, and eerily beautiful.
She was right; it was nice.
"How was the ride up here?" I asked, handing her the mug of coffee. She thanked me and took a sip.
"Well, I made it," she said, shrugging. “It was a little bumpy."
"Bet you're mad Brett's making you do his dirty work."
She laughed a little. "Are we that obvious?"
"As much as I'd want to believe you just wanted to visit me to see how I was, I know that isn't the case."
"Wow," she murmured. "Shit, let me just leave then."
"You came all the way here, might as well finish your coffee." We stood looking out over the snowy back of the house in silence for a few seconds. It had come down last night, at least another couple inches.
"You're still in one piece, so Brett's going to be happy to hear that. You don't look frostbitten or starved."
"How's he doing?"
"I don't know," she said. "Drive back down to Salt Lake and find out." I looked at her. Both her hands were wrapped around her mug, and she leaned on the railing with her elbows. There was a slight breeze blowing through her hair.
"Okay," I said, "maybe I deserved that."
"Now that I'm out here, I can kind of see the appeal, but," she paused, turning so her back was against the railing, and she could face me easier, "you could have waited ‘til July." I laughed a little.
"No, seriously. How is everything back at work?"
"It's okay," she said lightly, looking into her coffee.
"Really?" I asked. She shrugged.
"You said it yourself, Brett knows what he's doing, and he's been getting along pretty well since you left." Huh, I thought. Seeing her, I had thought there had to have been an emergency or at least a problem. We had been talking a little while now, and she hadn't said anything about the company until I asked. In the past, talking to her, she'd never really had a problem getting her point across. I didn't know whether to take her word for it or not.
"Hm," I said. "I know I asked why Brett had sent you here to do his dirty work, but looks like I was wrong. You just missed me."
She scoffed, looking over at me. "Try again," she said. "Brett said he hasn't been able to get in touch with you at all."
"Yeah, well…" I trailed off.
"Do I have to tell the poor guy you've just been ignoring him?"
"I haven't been ignoring anybody," I said. "I left my phone in Salt Lake. Didn't need it anymore."
"So you haven't read the news at all, talked to anyone, gone online since you left?"
"Nope." And it had been great.
"Then you don't know that there's a snowstorm forecasted to come through here this weekend." A what? I frowned. She was right that I hadn't had any contact with anyone for several days. That had been the point of leaving the phone behind, but then actually talking to people wasn’t even the primary use of mobile phones anymore, was it? I hadn't looked at the weather forecast. There was a thermometer anchored to the wall in the house by the door that told me the temperature inside and outside; that was all I had by way of the weather forecast.
"Huh," I said, "well, now I do."
"More than two feet of snow is expected to come down Saturday." I had prepared as much as I had thought that I'd needed to before coming here, but again and again, something would happen to remind me I had not done enough. It was a learning curve, and I could accept that, but I had left my phone behind, confident that I wouldn't want to talk to anyone. I had books, but those didn't forecast the weather.
"That sounds...cold."
"Unless you have a snowmobile or ATV, the road back to town is going to be impossible to use for at least a few days." A snowmobile. That sounded handy. How did she know that though? How experienced was she with mountain trails anyway?
"So what are you saying?"
"If you plan on feeding yourself and not freezing to death, you need to get out to the nearest town now and stock up." Alright; the point, finally. The reason why Brett sent her up here. She was right, kind of. I hadn't known about the storm. I was glad she told me. I'd probably be chopping and moving wood for the rest of the day now.
"No. I think I have everything I need. I’ll probably be swinging that ax nonstop ‘til it rolls in but I think I have everything."
"You think? You won't be thinking very much when you're stuck out here with no way to contact anyone, and you're down to your last can of pork and beans." I laughed a little. I had about enough food to last a few days without heading to the town. Once I had enough wood, it didn't matter how long I'd have to stay put. I looked at her, noticing her cup was empty.
"Want to go back inside?" I offered.
"The weather at this elevation is tricky. Major snowfall can take days, even weeks to clear." I closed the door behind her. "If you don't have enough supplies and no way to contact anyone, you'll be stranded."
"Thanks for telling me."
"Cameron," she said. She was frowning like she had expected me to say I'd go find a hotel or something for the next few days instead of staying here.
"Natalie?"
"You're not listening to me."
"I am. Thank you for telling me about the storm, okay? But if you thought it was going to scare me back into the city, then you were wrong. I can take care of myself. If I had had any doubts, the last week out here alone has shown me that I can take a snowstorm. Alright? Don't worry about me." I took her mug and walked both of them to the sink.
"You're crazy," she said, crossing her arms. I laughed. That might have been the first totally unfiltered thing she had ever said to me.
"Anytime you feel like making the drive, you come up here, okay?"
"You're not heading out to town? If you want, I can take you right now," she offered.
"No, you go ahead. I know you didn't come up here to do any of that." I looked her up and down again. She was a beautiful girl. I still didn't know how tall she was since she was always in heels. About a head shorter than me maybe. Yeah, with her hair and makeup like that, roughing it in the mountains was likely the last thing she wanted to do. She sighed.
"You're really bent on this whole thing, huh?"
"Do you and Brett have a bet on when I finally give up?"
"It's just," she trailed off then looked around the cabin again. It was tidy. There wasn't much furniture, and the wood was in a neat pile near the fireplace. Was this it? She was stalling. I wanted her to spit it out. It wasn’t just the kindness of her heart that had brought her up here, and she had already told me about the snowstorm. Come on, spit it out, I thought. I need you to come back with me because things are bad at the company. You need to get behind that desk and do your job. That was what she had come up here to say to me. No, scratch that. That had been what she had been sent up here to say.
"Take care of yourself," she said, finally. I walked her back out to her car. I waited until she had backed out and disappeared onto the road before going back to finish what I had been doing before she had shown up.
A storm was coming, huh? I kept my woodpile on the porch where it didn't get covered with snow. If she was right, I'd need to have enough to keep me going at least a few days. I had a tarp to cover my car, so I wasn't worried about that. Food? If I skipped breakfast each day, I had enough for three, maybe four days. I had had suspicions seeing Natalie, but now that she was gone, I found myself thinking about whether she'd actually take me up on that offer to come back for another visit.
She wouldn't. I mean, the trip was bad enough, add the cold and the isolation, and I wasn't sure it was most people's idea of a good time. Too bad, I thought. It had been nice having her for the short time she'd stayed. She wasn't a bad person to talk to. Seemed smart and today actually had something useful to tell me. I looked up at the sky. It was overcast, but it didn't particularly look like there was a storm coming.
She had been easy to talk to, too, strangely. She hadn't been hard to talk to in the past, but here, like this, I had expected her to be uncomfortable, and I don't know, pushier, I guess. She had listened to me in the end instead of trying to change my mind, and she had even offered to drive me to the nearest town to stock up on stuff. I had a good feeling I'd be alright, but it had been good of her to offer. Shit, she had made the trip all the way out here just for me to not take her advice. She probably knew what she was talking about, but she didn't need to worry.
Too bad, I thought. If anyone of those awkward elevator rides had turned into conversations, maybe something could have happened. It wasn't going to happen now. You meet a beautiful, smart girl right when there's no chance of anything actually happening, I thought. Well done. Obviously, if anything had been supposed to happen already, it would have. There would always be more, right? Too bad. Too fucking bad. I picked up my ax and got back to work.