ANDREW had not planned to leave the cabin for the next few weeks, so hearing the weather report earlier didn’t worry him at all. Not until he got the phone call from his mechanic in town. The shop phoned to let him know his Jeep was ready.

“Bob, can’t you have one of your staff drive it up here in a couple of days?” he asked.

“No sir, Mr. Carrington,” the mechanic answered in his Western twang. “You mentioned you need the car by next Monday, right?”

“I have other cars here, but yes, the Jeep is the easiest to get around in,” Andrew confirmed.

“Well the storm’s gonna keep the guys here busy for at least a week,” he explained. The longer he spoke, the more his accent reverted back to its Western USA core. “And it’s bound to fill up the lot. Is it a ride into town that you need? Because two of my guys are not far from your place with the tow truck. They can pick you up and bring you here for it.”

Andrew thought he could use some extra supplies if the storm was going to be as bad as the weather station was making it out to be. His dad would probably come by after the storm settled down. Andrew could never predict how many partners, VPs, lawyers, accountants, or assistants his father would have with him at any given time, so he felt he should probably stock up.

“All right,” he answered patiently, holding in his mild frustration. “Have them pick me up. I’ll come into town with them.”

“Much obliged, Mr. Carrington,” he answered. “They’ll be at your door within half an hour.”

After he hung up, he opened the front door to listen for the tow truck before going to his room to get dressed. The weather was still mild, and the snowfall wasn’t expected until the next day. Andrew knew that that meant nothing. Down on Lake Tahoe, the lake-effects snow could turn the area from pleasant to a treacherous, winter wonderland within minutes.

Twenty minutes later, he heard the loud engine of the tow truck as it drove up his driveway.

“How’s it going fellas,” he asked as he walked up to their vehicle.

The mechanic in the passenger seat opened the door for him to sit up front with them.

“Good morning, Mr. Carrington, sir,” the driver greeted him. “Well, it’s going.”

“I don’t envy what you men will be up to for the next few days.” He made idle conversation as they drove into town. “You may be working twenty-four-seven with the people driving through in sedans and minivans. They’re the ones who usually get stuck, aren’t they?”

The driver nodded. “We’ve got a ton of tourists visiting this year, and many more poor, unsuspecting motorists just driving through to get to Truckee or Highway eighty. And worst of all, one of our trucks is down until we can get some spare parts from the manufacturer.”

“I feel your pain, gentlemen,” he empathized.

As they got into town and drove up to the auto shop, he thanked them and tipped the men a hundred dollars each for the ride. They looked at him as if he was their favorite uncle from childhood and repeated their thanks until he walked into the small customer area of the auto shop.

“We’re all ready for you, Mr. Carrington,” Bob greeted him.

Bob walked toward the wall of car keys and pulled off a set with a large keychain with the Jeep logo.

“Here you go, sir. It’s parked on the side.”

“Thanks for the call, Bob,” he answered. “You were probably right to force me down here. It feels like it’ll be a doozy of a storm coming through.”

Since the accident, Andrew could feel the weather changes in his left forearm and knee. The bones and joints would ache whenever rain or snow was about to fall. It was uncanny.

“Well, I’d better get moving.” He turned to leave. “Take it easy out there, Bob. See you soon.”

Andrew left the car parked where it was, because the only grocery in town was on the other side of the road. It was surprisingly busy. He did his best to get what he needed as quickly as possible. As he left the store, his bad knee felt worse. That could only mean one thing. Shit, the storm is coming today.

After he loaded the groceries in the back seat of his Jeep, he made his way to the local gas station; as he got out to fill up the tank, snow began to fall. It was that light, large-flaked, puffy snow that could be a bitch when the wind started. They took ages to eventually hit the ground. That’s what made them so dangerous.

He was just thirty minutes from town on a good day, but from what he had already seen of the snow for the first ten minutes of his drive home, he knew it would take at least twice as long. Every few minutes, the visibility worsened, and it was still daytime.

He put the windshield wipers on full cycle and had to lean forward to see out the front windshield. The roads wound tight around treacherous ledges as they led down from the main road to his side street, so he knew that even with the barriers, he had to keep a sharp eye on the turns.

His family had owned the property he lived on since he was a boy, and they would visit every summer. With that type of familiarity, he knew every blind curve and twist of the road. When the weather turned like this, however, and turned this quickly, every side street looked the same, and every curve was a potential death trap.

Still, he preferred to be there. He liked the isolation of living at the cabin and having the place to himself—most of the time. He had the space, the necessities, some of the modern conveniences, beautiful vistas, and most of all, he could keep a safe enough distance from most people. It was the best way to ensure nothing would happen to anyone close to him again—and that no one new could get close.

After he left his medical practice, his only companionship occurred during the intermittent visits by his father when he was passing through or needed board member documents and contracts signed. Sometimes he would pop by to confer with him for input, when in fact it was one of his dad’s check-in calls. Andrew would simply regurgitate whatever his dad said, just to get him to leave sooner. His father wasn’t stupid—he saw right through the evasive antics; yet he still entertained them. Andrew knew that if his father ever passed him the reins to the family’s multi-billion dollar empire, he would simply assign some sharp executive as chairman and CEO. He was never built for running the family business, and his father knew it. Still, his father felt he was helping Andrew during these visits; and maybe he was.

Andrew’s sister never visited anymore. He and Joy had been so close growing up, but all that changed when she left Lake Tahoe that last time, over five years ago. Somehow, when her almost-arranged marriage didn’t pan out, she became obsessed with the man and refused to listen to Andrew’s pleas for reason. It was a shame, too. There were so many men who were interested in her. Like many before her, she wanted the one man she couldn’t have. And when Andrew confronted her so she could finally open her eyes and move on to have a life after Matthew Lewis, she cut out Andrew.

It really was her loss; after all; she was missing out on her annual visits to the best place in the world, the way he saw it. Yet, after the accident, Andrew had often thought about reaching out to her for emotional support; a familiar shoulder. That’s what family was supposed to be there for. He breathed out a sigh, gripped the steering wheel tighter, and shifted his focus to getting home in one piece.

During the final few minutes, it was nearly impossible to see a thing in front of the car. As he got closer to the lake, the winds blew colder and more powerfully. There seemed to be ten times more snow blowing around. The flakes were large and puffy and mesmerizing through the windshield. He did everything he could to avoid thinking back to the accident. It had happened during a heavy snowfall just like this. Come on, Andrew. It’s not the time or place.

He slowed down to an almost crawling speed, careful not to miss his turnoff, marked only by a break in the long tree line of tall red firs and Jeffrey pines. At the beginning of the driveway to their property sat a wooden wagon wheel on one side and an oversized boulder on the other. The boulder had their house number etched onto it. By the time he made it home, the boulder looked like kids had spent hours shaping it into a snowman. All that was missing was a scarf and a carrot for a nose. Luckily, the top few inches of the spokes of the wagon wheel were still visible.

He turned onto his long driveway and carefully coasted the last few hundred yards down the slight slope to the main doors of the cabin. It would be quicker to unload the groceries and supplies before parking in the garage. It was smarter than making five or six trips across the hundred or so yards between the house and the garage structure, especially with the intensifying pain in his knee. And after five or six trips with the garage door up, it would be a pain for the automatic garage doors to close all the way, with the way the snow was blowing.

He unloaded the supplies, dropping them inside the front door over just a few trips, and parked the car in the garage. Tempted to bring in some extra firewood from the shed, he turned and thought for a moment. The shed sat beside the large guest house three hundred yards from the main house. There was so much to do inside to get ready.

It would be simpler to load the firewood onto the Ski-Doo trailer and make one trip after he put the groceries away.

“After,” he said aloud to himself. He noticed his deep, booming voice seemed so quiet amidst the whirling noise of the wind and rustling of trees. Mother Nature at work.

There wasn’t much time left to hunker down, so Andrew picked up the pace. He quickly put away the groceries, placed the batteries and a couple of extra flashlights in one of the kitchen cabinet drawers, and went to his bedroom to plug in the satellite phones he would use when his father needed him urgently.

Regular landlines, cell phone service, as well as Internet and cable, were not nearly as reliable during a storm. It only took one downed tree to cut the power line, and that would take out the phone lines too. He took a battery-operated lantern with him as he headed back outside.

Before loading up on firewood, he went around the other side of the house, which was closer to the garage. He needed to check the fuel level of the large propane tank that powered the two emergency generators for the house. They sat side by side under a reinforced, sheltered enclosure. The tank was full, because he used city power for day-to-day electricity use. The backup system had been installed in case the power went out, and was a smart purchase because it would kick in at least twice during the winter. And with the coming storm, anything was possible.

Finally, he walked over to the shed. It housed the firewood, a few Ski-Doos, Sea-Doos, and two riding lawnmowers. It was just as large as the garage, but the doors weren’t automatic. The firewood was neatly stacked and tied up on top of a few skids, to keep them dry and off the floor. A local service delivered cords in the middle of the fall, and could deliver more during the winter whenever he ran out.

He placed a smaller shovel at the garage entrance, and piled as many bundles as would fit on the Ski-Doo trailer. Once he felt there was enough for a few nights, he connected the trailer and rode the Ski-Doo up to the house. Again, unloading in one trip was far better. That manual garage door could be a hassle to open and close.

All that remained was to return to the shed, lock it up, and then use the shovel to clear a path back to the house. Finally, I can get out of this snow and relax in peace.