Chilled by Death

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Chilled by Death Page 4

by Dale Mayer


  When there’d been nothing, she’d died a little bit inside. As time went on, instead of picking up the pieces and getting on with her life, she’d pulled inside – a turtle-like shell growing on her back – in a state of waiting. As if she knew the answers would come. Eventually. And until then, she couldn’t get on with her life.

  It had been beyond sad. Depressing and debilitating for everyone around her.

  Then something had changed. Now he realized it was due to Royce. Too bad he didn’t know what had gone on between them, but Stacy had suddenly turned a corner. She’d started to return to life. More reserved. More afraid. More damaged. But alive and living once again.

  For that, he was grateful to Royce.

  Stacy was still tottering on the edge. At this point, she could go either way. That’s why this week was so important. He didn’t want anything to set her back. That she’d come was already a wonderful surprise. He’d been expecting her to cancel every day since she’d agreed. But she’d stuck it out and here she was. Now it was just as important that she have a great week. Deal with a few ghosts and move on even more. He’d do everything he could to make that happen.

  His sister was special. The work she did was difficult and yet so important for everyone else. And no one was there to make her feel special. To hold her when her world collapsed. He’d hoped Royce would be the man to take that place, but apparently not. Royce had always been in the background, keeping a watchful eye on his sister.

  He sneaked a quick glance over at Royce sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He was busy staring out the window. George looked back at this sister in the rearview mirror and smiled.

  Maybe there was more there than he thought. She stared at Royce like she didn’t know what to do with him. But her gaze was intense. Interested.

  That was always a good sign.

  Seeing that, he felt much better. He barely hid his grin. It could be a great week after all.

  *

  An hour later, Royce knew he shouldn’t have come. Damn. Behind him, he heard Stacy’s laughing response to Geoffrey’s teasing comment. Those two had been getting along famously since Geoffrey had joined them. Who knew she’d actually tease and play like she was doing right now? And why not with him? He held back a shudder as he suddenly realized that he had no idea if Stacy had a boyfriend or not. The atmosphere between her and Geoffrey said not. But she was lighter, more playful. So maybe she was open to the concept.

  And that just pissed him off. He wanted her to be open to a relationship with him. No. One. Else.

  “Hey, Royce, what are you frowning at so heavily? Geez, you look ready to kill someone.” Geoffrey called out, his comical tone of voice eliciting laughter all around.

  Except from him.

  “Nope, just thinking about life.”

  “Wow, that’s deep, man. Sounds like your last girlfriend ditched you. Sorry. I know how much you loved her.”

  Again, that overly mocking solicitous voice brought on more laughter and pissed Royce right off. He’d broken it off months ago and it had been casual at best. Another attempt on his part to fill his life with companionship. What could he say? He’d been lonely. In a casual voice, he said, “Not a biggie.”

  “That’s all right. There are lots more where she came from,” Stacy said coolly. “Right, Royce?”

  Royce turned to look back at her, caught something hard in her gaze, and felt a pain deep inside. But he’d be damned if he’d show it. He snorted and joked, “There always is.”

  As she turned away, a curl to her lip, he repeated, “There always is.”

  Chapter 6

  They stopped on the other side of the border for gas and coffee. Stacy had missed breakfast, so she loaded up on muffins to sustain her until they arrived at the cabin. She ignored the teasing and munched happily away, watching the miles go by. She’d forgotten how beautiful the journey was. They’d start climbing up the mountain roads soon. The Land Rover would make it to the cabin just fine. If there’d been other vehicles in and out lately, it would be even easier. The plan was to meet up with the other vehicle at the lunch stop on the other side of the border then stay convoy-style in case one or the other got into trouble. With the border, and shopping involved, it ended up being a long drive but one well worth the effort. It had been three years since she’d been here. And as she looked out at the icy mountains ahead of them, she realized it had been too long. It was desolate. Cold. And incredibly beautiful.

  By the time they arrived at the cabin, it was late afternoon and the evening sky had settled like a cold dark blanket on the region. Being in the mountains, once the sun went down, night settled in early. If it weren’t for the powerful headlights of the Rover leading the way and the expert knowledge of her brother, Stacy didn’t think they’d have found the driveway. As this was also a popular climbing area, there had been signposts, but with the drifting snow and thick soupy darkness, they’d been hard to see.

  George parked in front and left his headlights on until Royce opened the doors and ascertained that it was empty and available for them. They’d booked it for the week, although a few might stay just for the weekend. It was owned by one of George’s friends and made available to the group at large for a pittance. They’d all made good use of the owner’s generosity over the years.

  The cabin had an emergency generator in the back. As the women worked to unload gear, the men set about bringing light and heat to the cabin.

  Within minutes, a huge fire was blazing in the big heater stove and water put on top for hot drinks while the hot water tank was turned on. Food would be needed soon, but for the moment everyone was just overjoyed to be here. Stacy wandered through the cabin and chose to set her bed up in the loft. It would be the warmest place, and she was no fool. This might be a holiday, but there’d be more icicles and thermal underwear here than bikinis and tropical drinks.

  She dumped her bag and went downstairs to claim a down sleeping bag from the stack her brother and Royce had supplied.

  “Stacy, where are you setting up?”

  “In the loft, if that’s all right.”

  There were a few calls and nods of agreement. There were several bedrooms along the side of the cabin. She noted that George and Kathleen took one of them and the two guys she worked with took another – it had double bunks on both walls as did the other bedroom.

  There were only a few other choices for sleeping rooms. Royce had yet to pick one.

  And neither had Yvonne.

  *

  George laughed at his sister’s choice. “Hey, Stacy, how come you gotta hide away upstairs like that?”

  “Ha,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure you and Kathleen managed to grab a private room for yourselves. And not being sure if there are going to be other couples happening,” she grinned, “like Stevie and Mark, I’m just being nice.”

  Everyone cracked up in laughter as Stevie turned on her. “Hey, it’s not like that,” he protested, but it was an old joke amongst the group as the guys had been best friends since forever. “There are other beds in our room if you want to bunk with us.”

  Stacy laughed and shook her head. “I’m good. Besides, there are a couple more guys joining us so they will need a place to sleep, too. Just think, the lot of you can have a foursome!”

  A pillow hit her in the chest as Mark tossed one at her. “That’s all right. Go ahead. Hide upstairs. We know when you don’t want to spend time with us.”

  She threw the pillow at Stevie. “I just know where the warmest spot in the house is.”

  “True enough.” He smirked, adding, “But if you slept with us, you’d be even warmer.”

  The other males in the group started raising their hands. “No problem, you can sleep with me.”

  “You don’t want to sleep with them, I’ll keep you warm.”

  Stacy snickered. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with us?” Stevie protested in an injured tone.

 
With an eye roll, Stacy muttered, “Too much to count.”

  The pillow hit her in the face amid a howl of laughter.

  *

  Look at Queen Stacy. Always apart. Always in her perfect little bubble. Not touching anyone. So untouchable. The perfect ice princess.

  He narrowed his gaze.

  If that was the way she wanted to be treated…

  He barely held back the unholy grin threatening to break loose. Not that anyone else would understand. Well, one would. The talk continued on around him. He shifted slightly so he could keep her in his view as he considered the issue. He’d thought about it before and discarded it as not possible. Too much trouble. But the years of experience had helped. He might be able to pull it off now. Especially since she was here.

  Of course, someone else wanted her, too. That could be troublesome.

  “Hey, Stacy, your turn to make popcorn,” George said, nudging his sister. “Come on, lazybones, get up.”

  “Hey, I’m tired too,” she protested, but she got up and headed to the kitchen good-naturedly.

  An interesting proposition, he thought as he watched her stroll forward. There was no doubt his hobby had become almost too easy. He’d had to up the ante to keep the game interesting.

  And it was, but now that something harder, more challenging had come up, his other prey seemed paltry. He wanted to be ready for more. But was he?

  Still, this was Stacy. He’d have to fight to get her for himself. An interesting twist to an already challenging concept.

  Then again, it was the fear of being caught that gave him the thrill.

  Of course he could do it if he chose to. He just had to figure out how.

  And when.

  *

  Royce slid down on his corner of the couch and closed his eyes. He was also tired. He’d barely slept last night. He hoped he would tonight. Yvonne had put her bag in his room though. In a separate bed, thank God. He had no idea if it was a random choice or she was just looking for a place to call her own. Either way, she’d sleep only two feet from him. When he’d seen her bag there, he’d turned to look around and sure enough, he’d seen Stacy peering over the loft railings, staring right into his room.

  She’d been pissed.

  Damn right. He hoped it choked her. And immediately he felt like a heel. He hated feeling this way. Wanting to walk away from someone who obviously didn’t want him but was angry that she still did.

  How could she not want what they’d had together? It had been the best thing in his life. To think he’d been alone feeling that made it so much worse. He wanted her to be just as involved. To want what they’d had.

  He hadn’t been able to throw it away – how could she?

  Royce tried to ignore Stacy’s tired steps. Then couldn’t. She’d been outside a lot today and was still recovering from a long illness. Damn it. Frustrated and angry, he hopped to his feet and strode into the kitchen. He ignored the smirks and smiles he knew were showing behind his back. They could laugh. They had no idea what he’d been through – was going through.

  A lovesick man who’d do anything to get Stacy back into his life again. All he could do was hope she’d see their relationship in a different light and give him a second chance.

  And because he cared, he couldn’t let her work herself like this. She should be in bed. Not making popcorn for these goofs.

  He stopped at the doorway and opened his mouth to say something – he had no idea what – when he realized she just stood there, head down, shoulders slumped. Eyes closed. Shit. He stepped forward, and in a voice to low and too harsh for his liking, he snapped, “What’s wrong?”

  In a sudden jolt, her eyes flew open and she spun around. She shook her head hard, her hair flying around her shoulders, maybe to clear the sleep that was obviously clouding her brain, and said, “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Just?” He took the few steps to bring him to her side. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Of course you’re tired. Go sit down. I’ll make this.” He turned her in the direction of the others and gave her a gentle push.

  He studied the table in front of him and realized she had the popcorn in the cast iron handheld popper but didn’t have the butter measured or ready to melt. He measured it quickly and dumped it into the popper.

  “No,” she said, turning back to the table. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” he said in a low voice. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

  The popcorn popper was held tight in her fist as she turned away, but her gaze lingered on his. He thought she wasn’t going to answer for a long moment, but then she opened her mouth. He bent his head to hear what she said, his gaze trying to read her lips as she moved them so gently, her voice so soft he wondered if he’d actually heard her correctly.

  She walked back into the main room to pop the corn on the big fireplace. But her words rippled through his mind in wonder and almost broke his heart.

  He thought, hoped, she’d said, “Because it hurts too much.”

  Chapter 7

  Stacy forgot how high energy this group of friends was. They worked hard and they played hard. Such was their life. She watched the men tease the women and bug the other guys. She was in a category altogether different. She knew them all with the exception of Yvonne and had been friends forever with some of them. That she worked with two of them, not all the time and not all day, made for an odd relationship there too. Then there was Royce and that bit of history and Geoffrey with their long-term friendship. At one point he’d asked her out but she’d refused, realizing she liked him as a good friend only. He was a great guy, and she was more than happy to have him along.

  And unlike many of the others here, he wasn’t an adrenaline junkie.

  Safety was always her prime concern. Even more so now after what had happened to her best friends.

  She cozied up by the fire, grateful for the moment. Her brother had brought a huge pasta dish to heat up on the big heater stove for tonight, but it was taking its time warming up. So was the cabin. The conversation went around in a mix of laughter and arguments. The others were already planning their trips out tomorrow. She was still thinking a book by the fire was the right answer.

  Royce plunked down beside her. “Are you going out tomorrow?”

  She studied his face, aware that the conversation had died down around them. “I’m not sure. What are the plans?”

  “Two groups,” he said. “One is heading to the runs beside the waterfall, the other is going to go to the snowboard park.”

  “Hmm. High winds, freezing cold air, or my camera in the sunshine.” She grinned. “I’ll go with the sunshine.”

  There were exclamations at that one.

  “I’m good with a camera,” George said, “but she’s gifted.”

  That drew a snort from her. “Not likely. Look at the stuff you take pictures of. You have to be gifted to do that.”

  “And then look at your images. They are surreal. Like you see something no one else can,” George countered.

  “Hey, I didn’t know you were both photographers,” Kathleen said. “Really? How come I haven’t seen any of your work, Stacy?”

  Stacy curled her lips but stayed quiet.

  “You have,” George said. “You just didn’t know they were hers.”

  A surprised pause stopped everyone as they turned en masse to look from him to her.

  She groaned. “It’s no secret. I made a little bit of a name for myself way back when, that’s all.”

  “And what name is that?” Royce asked, his gaze narrow, searching.

  She shrugged her shoulders, uncomfortable with having the spotlight turned her way.

  It was her brother who answered. “You guys have the privilege of being in the presence of Eternal.”

  A shocked silence filled the room. Stacy wanted to laugh. She didn’t know if the name was bringing that reaction or the fact that they didn’t know the name.

  It was no big deal.
She’d been doing photography since she was in her teens. She stopped for a long while after losing her friends – she’d been lost herself back then. After her weekend with Royce, she’d picked it up again. That was when she’d started working on her new project – Faces of Nature.

  “Really?” Stevie asked in shock. “And you didn’t tell us? We’ve ranted and raved over so many of those photographs to you over the years. And you never said anything.”

  “I thought Eternal was dead,” Kathleen said with surprise.

  Geoffrey walked to stand in front of Stacy. “Seriously?”

  She shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a very big deal.” He snorted. Then he stopped as if considering her words. “You know, in hindsight, that makes a lot of sense. You went through a lot of phases. I remember that series of ice climbing photos you took. The images in the ice that you managed to capture that even those of us who’d been there with you couldn’t see.”

  “Well, I for one haven’t ever seen your work,” Yvonne said in a tight voice to go with her tight smile. She tossed her long red hair.

  “I didn’t expect anyone to. I haven’t done much work lately.” That was actually a lie. She’d done a lot recently, but under a different name. Another pseudonym. She looked at her work as an artist looked at his. Some of it she hated and some of it she loved. And some of it she loved but was unsure how anyone else could.

  So she’d started a new name. It’s not that she’d been a different person, but this new work was different for her. She hadn’t shared that name with anyone.

  Yvonne popped up and said, “I really like Rebirth’s work.”

  Managing to keep her face bland, inside Stacy jolted at hearing her second name mentioned.

  “I don’t know that one.” Royce made an odd sound. “And what’s with the artists putting up their work under these abstract names?”

 

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