Snow Furries (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 4)

by Susan C. Daffron

  Pausing mid-row, Becca put her knitting down in her lap. The drone of the chain saw outside had stopped. She got up and ran around the cabin, looking out the windows, but wherever Jack was, he wasn’t visible from inside the house. What if he had hurt himself? Frank got up from his nap and followed her around.

  Taking a few deep breaths in an effort to not completely come unhinged, Becca waved at Frank, who was giving her a quizzical look. “Come on Frank, we need to go see if Jack’s okay.”

  She bundled up in her coat and the horrible boots and opened the door. Frank rushed out and ran toward the back of the cabin. Becca slowly made her way around the house, following the trail Frank had blazed through the snow. Jack was standing with a portly older man with a white beard who was wearing snowshoes. Although Becca wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, their body language indicated that the two men were not having a pleasant conversation. It looked like Jack was getting into a fight with Santa Claus.

  Jack bent to corral Frank’s enthusiasm at meeting the new human. “Settle down, Frank.” The dog was largely undaunted by the chastisement and continued to cavort through the snow around Jack and the other man.

  As Becca shuffled up to them, the older man thrust his index finger toward Jack and shouted, “You’re trespassing. If I could call the cops, I’d do it right now!”

  “I think the folks in the sheriff’s office are probably busy dealing with a lot of pretty serious emergencies related to this storm.” Jack put his hand on Frank’s collar. “Frank, sit.”

  The other man shook his finger. “I know the owner and he isn’t going to be happy that you just went and broke into his place.”

  “Who is the owner? I told you that I’ll pay him for the damage to the window. We really had no other choice.”

  Becca said, “I didn’t want to break in. I told Jack that.”

  Jack turned to look at her. “Thanks. You’re a big help. I didn’t hear any other suggestions from you at the time. What would you have preferred we do?”

  “I…I didn’t mean it that way,” Becca said. “I mean, I didn’t want to break in, but we had to. I was freezing! I didn’t have warm clothes. Or gloves or anything.” She waggled Jack’s oversized glove on her hand at the older man and went for her most charming smile, “I’m Rebecca Mackenzie, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Cliff Dearning,” the man said gruffly. “I live down the road a ways.”

  Jack said, “Okay, so we all know each other now.” He pointed in the general direction of the neighbor’s house. “If you get me the owner’s phone number, I’d be happy to give him a call when we get the phone back and we can get out of here.”

  Cliff scowled. “Fine.”

  “I don’t suppose you have any food, do you?” Becca said in the sweetest tone she could muster. “I know it’s Thanksgiving, but if you end up with any leftovers, we’d really appreciate it. There were a couple of cans of soup here and that’s it. I think the owner isn’t much of a cook.” That was certainly putting it diplomatically.

  “Actually, Joel invited me over here a couple times. My wife will be the first one to tell you, I sure don’t cook anything myself, but Joel does. Maybe the soup is from some of the other people who stayed here.” Cliff shook his head. “Joel was kinda using the cabin as a guest place or something. I don’t know. He moved in with that woman and I haven’t heard much from him.”

  “What’s the owner’s last name?” Jack asked.

  “Ross. Now he lives about five or ten miles away, I think. I went out there once to help with a roof problem they had. I’ve got the number.” Cliff said, looking down at his feet in the snow. “I’ll ask the wife about the food. She’s pissed at me though. I haven’t been able to get our generator to keep running. It starts, then quits, so the refrigerator’s out, and we had to throw a bunch of food out in the snow. She told me to go outside and fix ‘that fool machine’ as she calls it, so I’d better get back before she gets even more mad.”

  “Thank you.” Becca said. “And Happy Thanksgiving too!”

  Cliff turned and started clomping back toward the forest, his snowshoes leaving heavy tracks behind him in the virgin snow. Becca turned to Jack. “See, I told you there had to be neighbors!”

  “Cliff knows where this place is. We do not know where his place is. That was my point.” Jack reached out and brushed snow off Becca’s head. “And you’re covered with snow. In a few minutes, you’ll be wet and cold again.”

  Becca bent over, grabbed a handful of snow, and threw it up in the air, so that it drifted down on their heads. “You are really kind of a stick-in-the-mud, aren’t you?”

  “Why don’t you go back inside? And take Frank with you. I’ll be done here in a few minutes.”

  Becca turned, “Come on Frank. Let’s go.” Jack was such a grouch. It was a good thing she’d heard him laugh or she’d think the guy had absolutely no sense of humor at all. What was his problem anyway? Just by smiling and being nice, she’d managed to break up a potentially nasty neighborhood squabble and even get Cliff to consider giving them real food. That was more than Jack had done. He was so crabby all the time. She refused to look behind her as the sound of the chain saw firing up again rumbled through the silence of the snow-laden forest. Those sound effects in chain-saw massacre movies certainly were realistic.

  Later, Jack came back inside holding a clump of whitish strips in his hand. Frank greeted him joyfully, racing around the room as Jack removed his layers of outerwear.

  Becca looked up from her knitting. “Those are pretty small pieces of wood. Little bitty things like that aren’t going to keep us warm.”

  “I stacked the firewood right outside the front door under the overhang so it would stay dry. These aren’t for heating; they’re for eating.”

  Becca put her knitting down in her lap. “You want me to eat wood? Yuck. All of a sudden, the Twinkies are starting to look better.”

  “It’s not wood. This is the cambium layer from a lodgepole pine, or Pinus contorta. It’s rich in sugar and starch. You chop it up into little strips and fry them. If you add a little salt, they kinda taste like French fries.” He walked to the kitchen and got a frying pan out of a cabinet. “I saw some olive oil behind the Twinkies. That’s not really the best oil for frying, but it should work.”

  “I know you’re a forester and all that, but you’ve got to be kidding me, right? What’s a camb—uh—whatever you said? This is like that old commercial with the guy who eats trees.”

  Jack turned and flashed a smile at her. “Yeah! That was Euell Gibbons. He was known for his foraging skills. The cambium layer of a tree is right under the bark. Lodgepole needles are useful too. They are high in vitamins C and A, and the tea isn’t bad. Sailors used to drink pine tea to avoid getting scurvy.”

  Becca strolled into the kitchen and watched as Jack chopped up the strips. She leaned back on the counter so she could look at his face. Was he serious? “You’re really going to fry up some tree?”

  He nodded. “I’m hungry and I want to save the soup for dinner.”

  Becca returned to the couch. “This is truly the weirdest Thanksgiving ever. What I would do for some of my delectable mashed potatoes right now.”

  “If it weren’t for all the snow on the ground, you might be able to find some wild Jerusalem artichokes. They’re not bad.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Jack dumped the slivers of cambium into the pan and took it over to the wood stove. “Could you keep an eye on this while I get some more wood?”

  Becca got up off the couch and stood next to the stove. She gazed down at the pan as the little strips sizzled merrily. They did smell kind of tasty actually.

  Jack returned with an armload of wood and crouched in front of the stove to stoke the fire. “Keep stirring. Don’t let them burn.”

  “Because we wouldn’t want to have the world’s tiniest forest fire here in the pan, right?”

  He closed the do
or of the wood stove, stood up, and took the spatula from her. “Thank you, Smokey Bear. If you don’t want them, no problem. That just leaves more for me.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m starving and now you made this place smell like a giant fast-food deep fryer.”

  Walking back to the kitchen, he said over his shoulder. “Sorry, but McDonaldland never smelled this good.” He dumped the strips onto a plate, sprinkled some salt on them, and walked to the table. “Eat up.”

  Becca sat down, waving both hands in front of her with a flourish. “And the tree fries are served!”

  “Don’t knock it until you try it. I saw some ponderosa pine cones that I could harvest for pine nuts too. Those are tasty.”

  Becca popped a tree fry into her mouth. “Maybe later, if the lodgepole isn’t too filling.” She chewed thoughtfully. “Hey, these are actually good. Maybe squirrels are on to something.”

  Jack grinned. “They’re smarter than you might think.”

  Chapter 6

  Right Now

  Joel stood up and leaned on the side of the truck. “Well, that was fun. But at least the chains are finally on there.”

  From the other side of the truck, Kat waved her ice scraper at the sky emphatically. “It can stop snowing now. I mean it!” She looked over at Joel as he brushed snow off his coat. His face was pale, so his lashes seemed to cast shadows on his cheeks as he blinked away snowflakes. The tiny smile lines radiating from the corners of his eyes were more pronounced than usual and Kat had a strange flash of what Joel would look like as he got older. Would she still be with him 20 or 40 years from now? The Beatles song about being 64 rattled through her consciousness. Would she still love him in the year 2031? Hmm.

  He looked over at her. “Are you done berating the snow gods?”

  “I think so.” She thumped the hood of the truck with her hand. “Let’s plow, baby.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this? I mean, driving this old thing is not like driving your little Toyota.”

  “Hey, I know how to drive a manual. No big deal.”

  “Yeah, but you haven’t driven a crappy old Ford lately, have you?”

  Kat gave him a playful nudge. “No, but thanks. Now I’m gonna have that stupid jingle stuck in my head.”

  “Plowing is boring. Singing will give you something to do, since the radio doesn’t work.”

  Kat walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door. “No one wants to hear me sing. I don’t want to hear me sing. It’s much better for everyone if songs just stay in my head.” She got into the driver’s seat and stared at the floor. Joel was almost a foot taller than she was, so the pedals were far, far away from her feet. “Um, I’m going to have to pull the seat forward. Way forward.”

  Joel leaned into the cab from the passenger side and pointed toward the floor. “The seat adjustment is under there.”

  Kat pulled on the lever and tried to jerk the seat forward. “This could take a few tries.”

  “It could be rusty I guess.”

  She continued to yank on the seat. “Vehicles aren’t supposed to rust on the inside.”

  “Tell that to the truck.”

  At last the seat moved and Kat was able to grind it forward. The creaky thing acted like it was being dragged through sedimentary rock. “That was quite a workout. Can you still get in? It’s unfortunate that Ford did not see fit to embrace the concept of bucket seats on this truck.”

  Joel struggled to fold himself into the cab. “This would be easier if I were one of the seven dwarves.”

  “The correct term is little people. And I’m not that short.” She looked over at him. “Are you okay?”

  “Kneeling in the snow putting on the chains was uncomfortable. Twisting myself into a pretzel is worse.”

  She glanced at his face. “What you’re not saying is that your leg hurts.”

  “Yes.” He struggled to rearrange himself, stretching out his legs across the cab toward the passenger door so most of his upper body was sprawled into Kat’s lap.

  Kat moved, trying to readjust herself around him. “Well, that’s creative.”

  He enveloped her in his arms and wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. “Wanna make out? This is like high school.”

  “I beg your pardon. I was not that kind of girl.” More like man-free, dateless, and alone. She gave him a quick kiss and pushed his arm out of the way so she could get at the steering wheel. “I think you’re losing focus here. No fogging up the windows.”

  “I suppose that would be bad.” He sat up straighter. “The defroster doesn’t work that great either.”

  She tapped the dashboard. “Is that thingie for the plow?”

  He twisted in the seat to look. “Yes. That controls the hydraulics. And that’s for the lights.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that I plow in the dark. That’s just asking for trouble.”

  “I’m just explaining. When the plow is attached, it blocks the headlights. It’s good to be able to see.”

  “If I’m still out here plowing by nightfall, you’d better come out and check to make sure I haven’t frozen to death.” Kat reached to grasp the key in the ignition. “I think you need to move a little.” She started the truck and the engine coughed to life with a rumbly snort. “I’m so glad you put the plow on before it snowed.”

  “Yeah, if it were still sitting under a tarp ten miles away, we’d be in trouble.” He directed her attention to the shifters on the floor. “When you plow, you want to make sure it’s in four-wheel drive. There’s a low and a high. I locked the hubs already, so it’s good to go. Always press in the clutch when you put it into four-wheel drive. And if you need to put it into four low, the truck shouldn’t be moving.”

  Kat pushed in the clutch and put the truck in gear. It lurched forward and stalled out. “Oops.” She restarted it and tried first gear again. The truck slowly moved forward in the hole they’d dug out around it. “Yay!”

  “Okay, use that toggle to put down the blade. See the down arrow?”

  Kat followed his instructions. As the blade thudded to the ground and hit the wall of snow, the truck strained to move. “Uh-oh. This is bad, isn’t it?”

  “No. Let the truck push the snow. If you want to get fancy, you can raise the blade to push the snow up into a pile. Put it into reverse and try again.”

  Kat grabbed the gearshift and looked down to see where reverse was on the diagram. She manhandled the knob with both hands, forcing it down and around. The gears screeched. “I don’t think that’s it.”

  Joel put his hand on her shoulder. “No. And you might want to lift up the blade.”

  “Sorry if I’m killing your truck.”

  “It’s old and stubborn. You have to be firm with it.”

  Kat hauled on the gearshift again, got the truck into reverse, and the truck slowly moved backward. “Reverse is not for the faint of heart.”

  He smiled. “You’ll figure it out. Fortunately, the driveway is flat and there aren’t any ditches, so you don’t have to worry about falling off the road.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  He nodded. “You never want to try plowing uphill, and sliding down into a ditch is bad, unless you happen to have a tow truck or winch handy. When you’re plowing, you need to go fast enough that you retain your momentum and don’t get stuck. Create push-out spots along the driveway. You want to push the snow back as far as you can, but don’t hit anything.” He pointed toward a group of trees. “See over there, next to that clump of cedars, how there’s a big break in the trees? That’s a good spot for a push-out.”

  Kat sighed. “This driveway is so long, it’s going to take a while.”

  “I told you plowing was boring.”

  She put down the blade, pushed some snow around, put the truck in reverse, and then moved forward again, enlarging the clear spot where the truck had been sitting. After she’d created a cleared-out area in front of the outbuildings, she stopped the truck and turned to Joe
l. “I think I get it now.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. You look a little tired.” Kat looked into his eyes. Tired was a nice way to put it. She probably wasn’t looking too good either. “Maybe you could go inside and check on the dogs. We’ve been out here for quite a while.” She cleared her throat. “Also maybe see what your sister and nephew are up to.”

  Joel wrapped her in a bear hug. “Thanks for doing this. My leg really didn’t want to deal with hours of the clutch on this thing.”

  “I can see why. After all the things you’ve done to help me, I think it’s the least I can do. If you have any clout with the snow gods, please feel free to tell them we’ve had enough now.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Many hours later, a tired and cold Kat finally parked the truck, got out, and went back inside the house. She opened the door and Linus ran up to her, wagging with glee. “Hey Big Guy, how’s it going? It’s suspiciously quiet in here.” She stroked his large head and then went through the process of removing her coat and boots.

  Walking into the living room, she found Joel sitting on the sofa reading a magazine. She flopped down next to him. “Where did everyone go?”

  “Cindy got pissed off at me and took Johnny downstairs. She’s in your office calling all the people who aren’t attending her Thanksgiving party tonight.”

  Kat snuggled her head on Joel’s chest and said quietly, “I’m happy to report that the driveway is clear and I didn’t break anything. The bad news is that no county plows have been anywhere near this place, as far as I can tell. The road is a winter wonderland.”

  He put his arms around her and looked into her eyes. “Why are you whispering?”

  “My throat hurts. I think I spent too much time yelling at your truck.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Not really. There was a little bit of a stuck situation where I had to put it into four low to get out. It was kind of a mess and I may have said some bad words. Loudly and repeatedly.”