Chapter 6
Vandy stepped off the private plane in Missoula. She was wearing a scarf and sunglasses to maintain a low profile. A driver waited patiently to take her to the Amtrak station for the next leg of the trip. The train ride was smooth and uneventful. Leaving L.A. had been a good decision—she could feel it. Vandy had already begun to relax, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the Salish and Flathead Mountain ranges, and the Flathead National Forest.
The air was clean and the weather was clear. Snow covered the mountain tops and the temperature was a frosty 25 degrees, with a wind-chill factor that made it feel considerably colder. It reminded her of the New York winters she lived through as a girl. As promised, there was a fully-equipped Jeep waiting on her at the Belton Train Station in West Glacier, a beautifully-restored building built in 1910.
She tried to use her cell phone for navigation but the signal was already spotty, and she knew that during the course of her drive to the cabin, the cell service would disappear altogether. She pulled the Road Atlas Pam had given her and followed the directions she had written on the Montana page.
An older model burnt-orange Dodge pickup nearly side-swiped her as she pulled onto the main road, giving her a start and causing her heart to race momentarily. Welcome to shit-kicker heaven, she thought. She flipped the driver the bird and decided to not let the unfortunate incident ruin her wonderful mood. The driver, a big fellow in a cowboy hat, gave her an apologetic wave and drove away, making her feel a little guilty about flipping him off.
The sky was clear and the chill of the wind made the air as fresh as she had ever breathed. She had read that Going-To-The-Sun road was typically closed in winter, but this winter had been unusually mild and the road remained open, cutting her journey to the cabin by 45 minutes. She drove alongside Lake McDonald; the scenery was nothing less than breathtaking. With the mountains serving as a backdrop the water was clear blue and calm, reflecting the mountains off in the distance.
The cabin itself nearly took her breath away. It looked more like a small vacation resort than a single-family home. When she arrived, she began to explore the inside. Little expense was spared to make this a luxurious getaway for the owner. It had three bedrooms including a ground floor Master with fireplace and a spacious bathroom that contained the jacuzzi and adjacent sauna. The vaulted ceilings peaked at 24-feet. The wood appeared to be all solid oak. There were large windows everywhere. Remote-control window coverings were attached to all the windows for privacy, though she couldn’t imagine anyone would be watching.
The living room looked like a fancy hotel lobby with a giant, circular fireplace in the center, surrounded by gorgeous leather furniture. The temperature had been remotely set to s comfortable 71 degrees. The big screen television and sound system was off to the side. She took a moment to thumb through the movie section. It was everything Pam had promised.
She unpacked then lit a fire in the living room by pushing a single button. Opening a bottle of the Duckhorn Bordeaux and drawing a hot bath, she stripped and slipped into the tub. She lit a candle and allowed the jacuzzi jets to ease the ache in her muscles after a day of traveling. The sun was just beginning to set turning the sky into an explosion of orange, gray and red. A few dark clouds had just begun to move in, partially blocking the sunset. She dried off and slipped into some comfy sweats and an oversized robe that Pam had sent there in advance. Was there anything this woman didn’t think of?
As she walked to the kitchen she thought she caught a glimpse of car headlights. She walked to the window and looked in the direction she thought she had seen the lights coming from. She saw nothing.
In the kitchen, she surveyed the gourmet pre-made meal selection and chose the Spicy Elote-Style Vegetable Tostadas with summer squash, Poblano Pepper and Cilantro Rice. She followed the simple directions and nuked it in the microwave. She had rather low expectations for the meals but was pleasantly surprised at just how wonderful it was. She ate her dinner and then sat on the couch near the fire, choosing to read The Storyteller, by Jodi Picoult over watching Pillow Talk with Rock Hudson and Doris Day.
This was truly the right thing to do, she thought. She had not felt this relaxed in years.
She was 45-pages into The Storyteller before she fell fast asleep.