by Elsie Davis
Rachel screamed and turned, only to discover a huge tree had fallen in the front yard; one of its large branches had crashed through the window.
“You didn’t have to bomb my house,” Chad said, trying to lighten the moment as he drew her near and held her tight.
Rachel couldn’t stop shaking, the realization of how close they’d come to being crushed sinking in.
“It’s okay, Rachel. I noticed the tree when I arrived and that it was leaning, but having just arrived, I didn’t have time to take care of it.”
“It’s a mess. And it’s letting all the cold air and snow in. We’ve got to do something,” Rachel said, pulling herself together.
“Are you okay to help me?”
“Of course, just tell me what to do, Mr. Military man with the moves.” Her sense of humor had returned, which was also a good sign.
“If you can sweep up the glass, I’ll get a chainsaw. We’ve got to cut this part out of here and then seal the gap with plastic. With any luck, there will be some boards in the shed I can tack up. Otherwise, it’s going to get mighty cold in here tonight.”
Chad was taking charge of the situation, and it was A-OK with Rachel. The adrenaline was still coursing through her, leaving her breathless. “I’ll get right on it. Fingers crossed on the boards, as cold doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Luckily, we have the fire and plenty of wood. I can keep it burning all night if needed for extra heat.”
“Sounds good, although maybe we can take turns on fire vigil,” she offered, more than willing to do her part. Teamwork was always a good thing in her book.
Chad paused at the door. “I wouldn’t say no. Working together will help make all of this less of a problem.”
Rachel headed for the kitchen pantry to get the broom and dustpan, grabbing her jacket to put on as she passed the closet. The temperatures inside were dropping fast with the giant gaping hole where the window used to be, and the blowing snow had started to lay a snowy film on the floor.
Side by side, the two of them worked at it for over an hour. Chad had the worst end of it, having to work outside as he cut away the branch. She at least had the warmth of the fire behind her. Rachel emptied the last glass shards and sticks into the wastebasket, glancing around to ensure no slivers were missed. Then, just to be safe, she decided to make a full sweep of the area one last time.
“Rachel, can you come and grab the other end of this plastic sheet and pull tight. I’m going to use the staple gun to tack it into place,” Chad called out.
She pulled off her gloves, more than ready to help. “Sure thing.” This wasn’t the time to dwell on the cold. Soon enough, the inside of the cabin would warm up again, and that’s what she needed to focus on. They were blessed to have all they needed on hand and that the electricity hadn’t gone out. The Lord hadn’t given them more than they could handle, and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
Rachel shivered as she held onto the plastic. Bit by bit, Chad closed the gap, the snow and the cold winds no longer blowing into the house.
Chad moved to stand next to her. “You’re freezing. Why don’t you go warm up by the fire and let me finish up by hanging the boards outside? It won’t take me long.”
“I won’t say no,” she said, repeating Chad’s earlier comment. Her fingers were frozen, and the heat would be a welcome relief.
Chad headed outside, drill and a box of screws in hand. It wasn’t long before he was back inside and joined her by the fire. “All done,” he said, shrugging out of his coat. “Until the storm passes and I can get into town, that is.”
“Thank goodness you had what was needed. Otherwise, it would have been a long, cold night.” Rachel shuddered to think of just how cold. There was no way even the auxiliary heat would have kept up with dropping temperature inside.
Chad shot her a grin as he warmed his hands. “It’s all part of my military training. Be prepared. Let me see your fingers,” he said, reaching for her hands. “They were turning white earlier, and I was worried about frostbite.”
“They’re almost back to normal. I’ve got Raynaud’s disease, and it doesn’t take much for them to turn white. It’s when they turn blue I start to worry.” She was trying to alleviate his concern, but Rachel rather liked that not only had he noticed, but that he cared.
Chad brought her hands to his face, cupping them in his as he blew gently and rubbed, the combination restoring her circulation almost instantly.
Her face flushed with warmth, and it wasn’t from the fire. “Thank you,” she said, suddenly shy.
Chad hadn’t let go of her hands as he stood there, his gaze watching her intently. The moment stretched out, neither one moving. Was there something on her face? Something he wanted to say but hesitated? Or did he want to kiss her?
She moved away, suddenly uncomfortable. They’d just worked together as a team, laughing and shivering, but getting the job done. It was a shared memory she wouldn’t forget, the image of Chad blowing on her hands a tender moment. A moment when the military man let down his guard and showed genuine care and concern. The same care and concern he wanted to show the children who had lost a parent in the military.
But none of that changes the facts. They were two different people. She was ready to travel the world, and he was prepared to settle down. She would be ten times the fool if she let herself care for Chad. They both had the same end goal—helping people, but their paths differed in carrying out those goals.
“I’ll go fix you some coffee; you deserve it,” she said, using it as the first excuse that came to mind.
She had just gained newfound freedom she wouldn’t give up easily. Not even for Leslie’s handsome brother.
Six
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Rachel gazed out the kitchen window. Chad was out by the shed, digging out the entryway. He must have been up for a while if he was already outside working. It suddenly dawned on her the snow had finally stopped coming down.
White snow glistened, fresh and untrodden, the shiny, smooth surface pristine. Rachel couldn’t wait to get outside, anxious to capture Mother Nature as it reawakened to the rays of sunshine warming the area. Wildlife would creep out of hiding to explore and find food. The birds would flutter about, calling out to each other in the joy of the new day.
Rachel sipped the hot brew, readjusting to the bolder flavor Chad tended to make when he got up first.
It wasn’t long before Chad had the double doors of the shed opened, and he disappeared inside. When he reappeared, she was more than a little surprised to see him tugging a sled.
Picturing him gliding down a mountainside and laughing all the way made Rachel grin. This was a boyish side she hadn’t known existed. He headed toward the house, and Rachel moved away from the window, not wanting to be caught peeking out at him. She hadn’t gone sledding in forever, and her own inner excitement started to build, hoping he would ask her to join him.
Chad stomped his boots on the back porch and came inside, the brisk cold air with him.
Rachel pulled her sweater tighter to ward off the chill. “You’re up early,” she said as he removed his coat and hat.
“I was. Shortly after five, which wasn’t exactly on my agenda. Thought I’d take advantage of the time to start digging us out.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee.”
“Get a move on, woman. I found my old toboggan, and we should hit the hills. There are some great ones around here. If you dare, that is,” he taunted.
It didn’t matter if he hadn’t issued the challenge; she wouldn’t have missed a chance to sled for anything. “Oh, I dare, don’t you worry. Just let me eat something and suit up, and then let’s have at it.”
“A woman who faces a challenge head-on. Nice. I’ll pack us lunch while you get ready.”
Rachel frowned. “Lunch? I’m just having breakfast.”
“I know. But by the time we walk to the best hill around, go sledding,
and get back, it will be lunchtime. I figure if we work up a hunger, we could eat and then walk back.” He tossed his jacket on the chair nearby.
“That sounds reasonable. I’ll grab a protein bar and get changed. Hopefully, Leslie has a snowsuit here.”
“Be sure to check the hall closet.” He pointed to the door that opened off the front entry. “But if not, I’ve got an extra pair of snow pants and a jacket you can wear.”
Picturing herself in Chad’s outdoor wear wasn’t flattering. “I would more than likely look like the abominable snowman in anything that fits you,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Nah, more like a grizzly bear. It’s black,” Chad teased.
Rachel frowned. “Let’s just hope she has something.” She headed into the kitchen, grabbed a breakfast bar, and headed down the hall, excited to be able to get out and have some fun. And sledding ranked high on her list. Of course, sledding with Chad moved it to the top of the list, but it wasn’t anything she’d bother to mention to her best friend. Some things were best kept under wraps if Rachel didn’t want to play twenty questions with Leslie. And if Leslie started down the matchmaking road, it would only make everything more complicated. Not to mention, Rachel was already having trouble with her own view of Chad. She found herself liking him, despite his prickly outer shell that popped up occasionally.
Fifteen minutes later, she was ready to go and went in search of Chad.
He grinned when he spotted her, the deep grooves in his cheeks proof he was trying to hold his laughter. “You said something about the abominable snowman, and it looks like you guessed right. Although the pink scarf does downplay the image.”
“It’s all she had here. Miss Fashion must have all her good clothes in town.”
“You can say that again,” he teased.
Chad was right, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she agreed. “Enough. It’s getting hot in this snowsuit. Let’s go.”
“I just need to throw on my coat and boots. Meet you out back.” Chad picked up his coat as Rachel headed out the door.
She sucked in the cold air, welcoming the relief from the heated temperatures trapped in the suit. Picking up a ball of snow, she took a bite. Clean and refreshing. When they got back to the cabin, Rachel wanted to check the cupboards for vanilla and evaporated milk. Snow cream would be a delicious treat. It was always something she looked forward to each year, and the first snow was always special.
Of course, the old wives’ tale was to not use the first snow of the season as it was thought to clean the air. But with eight feet of snow that dumped, surely the snow would be clean at the top, and she didn't intend to dig to the bottom. Rachel grinned when she spotted a bunny running from tree to tree. She pulled off one of her gloves and pulled her phone from her pocket, intent on trying to capture the moment.
Chad came outside just as she got the camera focused, managing to scare off the rabbit before she could get a shot off.
“Good timing, mister,” she teased as he drew near.
“What was it?”
Rachel pouted. “A bunny. I love pictures of wildlife, and he was so cute.”
“How do you know the bunny wasn’t a she?”
“I don’t. But the English language allows the term he to be used when one is unsure. It’s a generically accepted word.”
“Okay, Miss Grammarly. I promise there will be more bunnies. We’ve always been overrun by the furry critters. I reckon more so now, what with the cabin vacant lately.”
“Yay. Everywhere I go, I take pictures of birds and wildlife. There’s just something so peaceful watching them flitter about in their natural environment.” She glanced around, hoping Chad was right.
“I agree with you. I’m more about the animals than the birds, but for the same reason. So see, we do have something in common.” He shot her a dazzling smile that filled her with a special warmth.
“You mean besides the fact we both can’t cook,” she teased, enjoying their camaraderie, even if it wouldn’t last much longer. They both had agendas, and life would go on after the snowstorm was cleared up.
“There is that, but I was referring to a positive characteristic. The inability to cook is not something we should let get out willy nilly,” Chad said, his grin ear to ear.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Willy nilly? Did you really just say that?”
Chad nodded. “I did. Why?”
“It’s something my grandmother used to say.” Rachel chuckled, the memory a sweet one.
“Sounds like a smart woman.”
“She was at that, and she loved her old colloquialisms. It was a way to keep the past in the present, is what she always told me.”
“Nice. Shall we go?” Chad pointed to a place where the trees parted like welcoming gates into the forest.
Rachel frowned. “I’m not sure I’ll get very far. Do you see how deep this is? I mean, you shoveled it. We will sink right in.” She’d gotten excited about nothing, or so it would seem.
Chad laughed. “Which is exactly why I laid out those,” he said, pointing at the shed and two pairs of snowshoes she hadn’t noticed before.
“Except I don’t have a clue how to use snowshoes.”
“Think of them as oversized web feet. Leslie’s snowshoes will fit you nicely, and you shouldn’t have any trouble. Just go slow at first until you get the hang of it. I wouldn’t want you to land a face plant,” he explained.
“It’s not high on my priority list either. Fine. Hand them to me and I can try.” Rachel took the snowshoes from Chad and then watched as he laced them on. She mimicked his actions and, in no time, was ready to try walking. She took a step and wobbled, unsure of herself.
“It’s better in the deep snow. Here take my hand, and I’ll help you get over the bank,” Chad offered.
She took his hand, grateful for the support. The wall was high where he’d cleared out the snow, but in one section, he’d tapered it as if he planned this outing. Which, by all intents and purposes, it looked like he had, judging by the food pack he carried. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Rachel took a few steps, and with Chad’s support, managed quite well.
“Good job. I’m going to grab the sled. Why don’t you take some practice steps now that we are on level ground?” he suggested.
“Okay.” Mustering her courage, she boldly took a step. And then another. And another. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. In fact, it was like walking in swim fins, something she was far more familiar with. Except in swim fins, one was supposed to walk backward.
“You’re doing great,” Chad called out from behind her.
She turned and smiled. “Than—ohhh,” she squealed as one snowshoe trapped the other and sent Rachel flying forward, her arms shooting forward to brace against the fall.
“Well, almost,” he teased as she sat up, sputtering and wiping the snow from her face.
“That was your fault. You distracted me.” Rachel gathered up a snowball and tossed it at Chad.
He ducked, and the snowball missed. “Whatever you say. I’ll take the blame, seeing as one of us has to since we’re a team.”
“Since when are we a team?” she asked, holding up her hand for Chad to help pull her back to her feet.
“Since today,” he said, successfully getting her upright. “This is a toboggan,” he pointed at the sled, “and there are two of us.”
“Oh, I see. I thought it was a solo thing.” She hadn’t ridden a toboggan, and the idea of speeding down the hill by herself was intriguing but not particularly her first choice. His idea sounded far better.
“Nope, we need to work together if we don’t intend to crash. You do know how to sled, right?”
“Of course. But I want to be in the front.”
“Why is that?” Chad asked, his face scrunched as he questioned her motive.
“So I can see where we’re going. If we’re going to crash into a tree, I want to be able t
o eject myself from the sled.” Rachel grinned.
Chad shook his head. “Better still, you help me steer away from the tree, so we both avoid crashing into said tree and not suffer an injury.”
“I suppose,” she teased.
It wasn’t long before Rachel got her snowshoe feet in sync, and she was soon comfortable enough to glance around. The natural beauty of a mountain freshly covered in snow was awe-inspiring.
They hadn’t gone far when Rachel spotted another bunny. She stopped, holding up her hand to signal Chad to do the same. She pointed in the animal’s direction. “Look, there are two of them.” Rachel pulled off her gloves, pressing them between her knees. She pulled out her camera and snapped off a few quick shots, hoping to get a couple of pictures before she played with settings. Adjusting the zoom and lighting to capture the playful critters in a more enhanced manner took more time than one could predict you had with wildlife.
Rachel laughed when one toppled over the other. “Aren’t they cute?” she asked, turning to Chad.
“You are.” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone quite so into getting the perfect bunny shot. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking them to pose.”
“Laugh now, mister. But wait until you see the photos.” The perfect shot, perfect lighting, perfect everything, took time. Time Rachel was willing to commit for the right photo.
“I’ll do that. I’m having more fun watching you.”
His comment gave Rachel an unexpected rush of delight. She preferred not to dwell on the reasoning behind the emotion. “How much further,” she asked, trying to deflect the moment.
“Not far now.”
“Good. This walking on snow is way more tiring than I expected. A sled ride downhill will be a welcome relief.”
“Yes, but then we have to walk back up the hill.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said, the idea daunting.
“If it’s too much, we could always circle back to the cabin from the bottom of the hill. One direction is always way more fun.”
Chad was her guide for the morning, and whatever he suggested, she was more than willing to go along with him. “I already like the sound of that. As long as this isn’t some bunny hill you’ve dragged me out to see.”