by ID Johnson
“I miss you, too,” Fiona replied, running her fingers through Olivia’s hair. “I pray that one day you will meet a man as good and hardworking as Cliff, that you’ll have a family, and then we can all spend Christmas together, just like this.”
Olivia had no idea what brought that up. Perhaps it was just her sister’s emotions pulling at her heartstrings as she watched her little girls playing together. Perhaps it was the jewelry Cliff had gotten her. Or perhaps it was the fact that Olivia was twenty-five and had never had a serious relationship. Rather than remind her sister she was focused on her writing right now and didn’t care at all to think about finding Mr. Right, she quietly said, “Thank you.”
“When you are out there in those mountains, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of time to pray. It would be lovely to have that sort of solace, to be that close to God’s creations, with no distractions.”
Olivia sat up. “Are you a little jealous, Sis?” she asked, grinning.
Fiona shrugged. “Maybe a little. I mean, this has been a wonderful vacation. I’ve been so blessed to have well-behaved children and a husband who pitches in around the house. But these two plus the twenty-two second graders I’ve got to return to in January, yeah, I guess I’m a little jealous.”
They both giggled. “Well, I know it’s not the same, but I have at least that many voices in my head most days,” Olivia said. “I mean—my characters are constantly talking to me. So… maybe out there I’ll finally be able to tell what it is they’re wanting me to know. What it is they see happening next.”
“I wish I was creative like you,” Fiona said. “I could never write or draw, or any of those things.”
“You are an amazing teacher,” Olivia reminded her. “I could never do that.”
“I guess we all have our strengths.”
“And… you are a wonderful mother,” Olivia continued. “Those girls are well-behaved because they have excellent parents.”
“Aw, thank you,” Fiona said, squeezing her sister tighter. “You will be too, someday.”
“Maybe,” Olivia said, trying not to roll her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“I do.”
“That’s a long way off,” Olivia reminded her. “I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“That’s okay,” Fiona assured her. “God knows when the time is right. All things in His good timing.”
Olivia nodded and forced a smile, trying to formulate a response. Just like the words to her novel, nothing would come out. Before she even opened her mouth, Fiona said, “I’m going to go help Mom,” and patted her sharply on the knee two times before standing.
“Aunt Olivia, do you want to play?” Paisley asked, holding up the new American Girl doll Olivia had gotten her for Christmas. “You can be this one.”
Olivia wasn’t much for playing dolls, or playing anything with little girls for that matter, but this was their big day, so she said, “Sure,” and slipped off the edge of the sofa to join them on the floor. “What’s her name?”
“This is Tenney,” Paisley explained. “She’s a singer. From Tennessee.”
“Tenney from Tennessee,” Olivia repeated, thinking to herself that seemed sort of silly, but she kept the comment in her head. “All right!” She took the doll in her hand and waited for Paisley to start a conversation with her other doll, hoping Tenney would know how to respond since she didn’t have a clue. For someone who made a living with words, she was feeling at a loss for them, and while most of what her sister said seemed way ahead of where she was in life, Olivia was hopeful that she would hear God’s voice while she was out there in the woods, particularly if He could lead her back to where she needed to be with her writing. Otherwise, she might just end up derailed or hitting a dead end.
Chapter Three
The drive to Minter’s Cabins would take a couple of hours even if there wasn’t a light snow falling that morning when Olivia left. As soon as her parents were packed and headed to the airport, she’d hugged the rest of her family goodbye promising she’d come home sooner if she was able to get most of the book written earlier than expected.
The roads were winding, up and down hills and smaller mountains, but Olivia liked driving, and as long as the roads weren’t slick, she was perfectly content behind the wheel. The Blue Ridge Mountains barely touched West Virginia at all, but down by Petersburg, where she was headed, they intruded a bit from the neighboring state of Virginia, and that’s where she would find Winter Woods. In fact, the fastest route actually had her leaving West Virginia and traveling through parts of Virginia before she came back into her home state.
The scenery was beautiful. She never tired of looking at the snow, despite the quantity they got each year. She’d considered going south for college, thinking she might like a warmer climate, but the thought of an entire winter with no snow had changed her mind quickly, so she’d attended West Virginia University in Morgantown to study creative writing. Her parents had never said they thought her degree was a waste, but she could tell in their suggestions. Maybe she should try journalism? Had she considered becoming a professor and teaching other people to write? She had her heart set on becoming a full-time writer from the moment she got her first typewriter when she was six, and even though it had seemed impractical at the time, Olivia knew she’d find a way to make it work. Now, she’d reached a level of success few other writers ever would. She just had to find a way to make it stick.
As the drive wore on, she began to climb higher and higher into the mountains until she felt she could’ve reached out the window and touched a cloud. She knew that wasn’t quite the case, but anyone with a fear of heights might have been nervous making their way up the winding highway. Olivia wasn’t; but she did decide to turn the radio off and give her full attention to the steep road ahead of her.
She vaguely remembered making this trip as a kid. This was about the time when her mother would say, “All right, kids. It’s time to be quiet so Dad can concentrate,” and all three of the back seat passengers would zip it and focus their eyes out the nearest window. Olivia didn’t really have the luxury of taking in the panoramic view, but she was thankful not to have any distractions. She couldn’t imagine taking this route in heavy snow or ice.
Eventually, she came to her first turn that took her off the main thoroughfare back into thicker woods. The roads were narrower here, and possibly even more winding, and in the gently falling snow, she had to be very careful to watch for her turns. Luckily, there weren’t a lot of other cars on the road, so when she slowed to about twenty to keep an eye out for the road that led directly to the Minter Cabins, she didn’t worry about someone slamming into her back bumper.
She made the left turn onto Minter Way and noticed a new sign on her right declaring that the Minter Cabins were two miles straight ahead, although nothing was straight around here. The road twisted and curved and split off toward different groupings of cabins. She saw a sign that said “366-369” and knew she needed to turn that way since her little cabin was number 369. The evergreens were so close to the road here, she wondered if old Mr. Minter came and cut them back himself or if he hired that out since otherwise the narrow lane might disappear altogether.
With one last turn, she saw the smaller cabin just ahead. There was a short drive that wound its way to a parking spot just on the other side of the front door. She couldn’t help but look off to her left where the road continued about a hundred more yards or so to the cabin she’d wanted. From here, she couldn’t see any cars, but then, it had a two car garage, and it’s possible the fortunate tenants had simply parked in there. At least there were no sappy pine trees hanging over her parking spot though there was a rather large deciduous tree. There were no other cabins in sight, and she knew 366 was the larger cabin. She seemed to remember the cabin numbers never making any logical sense.
Once she put the Cadillac in park and cut off the engine, she stepped out and stretched her back. She was used to traveling but usually by plane. Olivia took
a few steps around to the front of the cabin and let out a deep breath, noticing a plume of ice crystals form in front of her. Standing back to observe her new abode, she cocked her head to the side and tried to be as positive as possible. It was a story and a half, or so Mr. Minter claimed. She believed he must have been counting the loft as the “half,” as she understood the bedroom was up there, accessible courtesy of a ladder. The front had a very small porch flanked by two windows with lace drapes. The logs looked to be in good shape, though she immediately noticed the house number needed some help. The nine had let go at the top and swung around so that it looked like a six. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think this was cabin 366 instead of 369, but since she’d stayed in 366 a number of times, she was certain she was in the right place.
With one last nod of acceptance, Olivia whispered to no one, “Home sweet home,” and set about getting her belongings out of the car. “That’s right,” she muttered as she popped open the trunk, “I can say whatever I want to because there’s no one out here to hear me anyway!” If there were people in the closest cabin, they weren’t outside and wouldn’t be able to hear her. The thought of seeing absolutely no one except for maybe Mr. Minter for two weeks was a bit of a thrill, and she grabbed her two suitcases and swung them out of the car before grabbing the groceries she’d also packed, setting them on top of her largest suitcase, and slamming the trunk closed.
She realized it would take her a couple of trips, especially since her purse and laptop bag were still in the front seat, but she had plenty of time now that she was here, and she wasn’t in a rush at all. She gathered what she could and headed for the porch. Once she reached the door, she thought for a second about the code Mr. Minter had emailed to her, and after she was sure she remembered it correctly, she punched it into the door. “Five, five, three, two,” she said with each jab of her finger. The door made a noise instantly, and she knew she had the code correct.
Pushing the door open she was greeted with a bit of a musty smell along with the rich woodsy fragrance she remembered from her childhood. Even if this wasn’t the same cabin, it sure smelled the same. Olivia paused two steps into the room to inhale deeply, closing her eyes and thinking about all the times her family had visited these woods together. Everything had been so peaceful and calm back then. She couldn’t remember having a care in the world. A smile spread across her face. This was just the medicine she needed, not only to finish her book, but to get herself back together as well.
There were really only two rooms to speak of. The largest was the living room, which was only a hundred feet by a hundred feet if that. There was a large stone fireplace and a comfy looking couch and chair situated around it. She noticed there was no television, at least not one visible, and was happy that was the case. Less of a temptation….
Setting her suitcase down and closing the door, she took the groceries and went through to what she believed would be the kitchen. It was much smaller than anything she was used to, but it would do. She’d mostly brought soup, fruit, and some other assorted snacks, and the microwave and sink would be about all she would need. Mr. Minter had reminded her that there was a little general store about ten miles down the main road, but she really hoped she could make do with what she had. She tended not to eat too much while she was writing. The coffee pot on the counter would definitely come in handy, however, as she usually liked to write late into the night and then sleep in every morning. Coffee had become a bit of an addiction.
Outside, she could see a small enclosed porch where a small pile of firewood sat, and she thought that might be a lovely place to sit in the summertime, but now it would be way too cold. A huge stack of firewood was also just outside the door, and it didn’t look to her like she would need to cut any while she was there, though sometimes it was a nice way to clear her mind and get a little exercise in.
She went back out front and got the rest of her belongings, taking one more glance over at the other cabin. There still didn’t appear to be anyone there. It was two stories tall, and she could distinctly remember the view from the bedroom on the right. It overlooked the creek and this cabin. Olivia wondered if they still had the same dining table where her family used to eat each evening and if the fireplace still had the same knobby wooden mantel. She imagined it did. Once, her brother had tripped on the hearth and split his head open on the coffee table. Her mother had always been prepared with lots of first aid items, something Olivia had went ahead and brought with her, even though she didn’t have a gaggle of children along. If her visit this time was even half as memorable as those vacations she’d taken as a child, this would be just the trip she needed.
Once she had the groceries put away, Olivia decided to take a look upstairs. The ladder that led to the loft was substantial, with thick hand railings on either side and broad steps. But it was a ladder nonetheless, and she wasn’t quite sure how she’d get her bigger suitcase up there. Eventually, she decided to give it a try and see if she could haul it up with one hand, and while she struggled a bit, she managed to get it up the makeshift stairs.
The bed appeared to be queen-sized with a nice, heavy quilt. It was a little warmer up here, but not much, and building a fire would have to be next. There was a dresser and an old rocking chair as well as a small bathroom with a claw foot tub and a shower extension. She hadn’t noticed a bathroom downstairs, but she was hoping one of the two doors she thought might be closets was actually a restroom since she didn’t want to have to climb the ladder every time nature called. It was no five-star hotel, but it would definitely do.
Olivia unpacked her suitcases and built a fire before she got out her laptop and sat down on the sofa. Checking her messages, she saw that her parents had sent a text to let her know they were boarding the plane, and they would call once they reached Cabo. She was so happy for them. They really needed this trip and deserved to have some time alone together.
After a quick call to Fiona to let her know she’d arrived and was all settled in, Olivia opened up her laptop and pulled up her novel. There was no Wi-Fi in the cabin and the signal on her phone wasn’t fantastic, which meant she’d have fewer distractions. “All right. Where was I?” she asked herself, skimming through the last page and a half of her story. Once she remembered exactly what was going on, she poised her fingers on top of the keys and readied herself to type the next sentence.
A sharp knock on the door stopped her before she even hit the first key, and even though Olivia was usually very careful about her language, she had to bite her tongue before an unpleasant word slipped from between her lips. “Who in the world could that be?” she mumbled as she set her laptop on the coffee table and pulled herself from the plush sofa. She hadn’t heard a car, but then, it was possible she’d missed it since the fire was crackling so loudly.
She peered through the peephole to see a familiar face and couldn’t help but smile as she pulled the door open. “Mr. Minter!” she exclaimed as the older gentleman stepped inside. “It’s so wonderful to see you!”
“Hello there, Olivia,” he said embracing her. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you. Wow—you haven’t changed a bit!”
“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, stepping back from her. “But you sure have. My what a lovely young lady you’ve become. I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper.”
Olivia had to giggle at the old saying she’d heard her grandparents say so many times. “It has been a few years.”
“It surely has. Well, I don’t want to interrupt. I was just walking by out on my daily hike and noticed your car, so I thought I’d stop by and see if you needed anything. Seeing the smoke out the chimney let me know you’re handy enough to start your own fire.”
“Oh, yes. Daddy taught me well. In your cabin, I might add.”
He chuckled again, removing his ski cap and running a hand through his thinning white hair. It was no wonder she’d thought his name was Mr. Winter. “I’m s
orry you weren’t able to get the one you used to stay in, but those folks just snatched it up. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of me or Martha, they’ll help you out I’m sure.”
“How is Mrs. Minter?” Olivia asked, wondering if she should invite him in to sit on his own couch in his own cabin.
“She’s fair to middlin’,” he replied. “Her arthritis is acting up right now, but most days she’s doing just fine. Thanks for asking.”
Olivia had always loved visiting with Mrs. Minter. She reminded her of her own grandmother. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Now, you know how to turn on the generator, should you need it?”
“Yes, Dad showed me how to do that, too.”
“This one is over on the side of the house, and its hooked right up to the propane tank, so you shouldn’t need to do anything except crank her up. The cookstove’ll still work, but you’ll want it for the hot water heater and the lights if the ’lectricity should go out.”
“Hopefully, that won’t happen,” Olivia said with a smile.
“I hope not, too, but they are calling for several more inches of snow, so you just never know what might be in store.”
“Really?” Olivia asked, a bit surprised. The last she’d heard, the snow was supposed to be tapering off.
“Up here, it’s so hard for them to tell what’s going to happen. We got a landline phone there, too, you see?” He pointed over to the wall by the ladder that led upstairs. “That hardly ever goes out, so if you need us, you should be able to reach us.”
Olivia nodded, thinking perhaps she should’ve brought more food, just in case she ended up trapped up here for longer than she expected.
As if reading her mind, Mr. Minter said, “There’s plenty of canned goods in the pantry. You help yourself. Also, a buddy of mine got a deer couple of weeks ago. He gave most of it to us, and Martha doesn’t really care for venison much, so I loaded up the freezers in the cabins best I could.”