Magic in the Mountains

by Donna Kunkel

He didn’t even look embarrassed. Like it was the most natural thing to do. Alex shifted a little farther toward the middle of the bed.

  “I examined your hands and feet for frostbite. I didn’t know how long you had foolishly been walking. Don’t you know that you’re always supposed to stay in your car?”

  “Of course I do. I only walked from the end of your driveway. I would have driven in closer, but I couldn’t tell where the driveway was. I didn’t want to take the chance of rolling my car into a ditch—or worse, a partially frozen pond.” Lucky me. I picked some backwoods hick who thinks that women have the common sense of a toad. “If you would give me my clothes, I’ll get out of here.”

  “You walked all the way in from the road?”

  She nodded. “My clothes?”

  “Sorry. They still aren’t dry, and more importantly, the storm hasn’t let up yet.”

  “Why don’t you toss them in the dryer?”

  “No electricity.”

  “You should get your power back once the storm’s over.”

  “No.” He hesitated. “It doesn’t work like that out here. First, I have to take my snowmobile into town to let them know that my power is out. Then they have to come out and fix the problem. But they can’t get out here until the plows have a chance to get through.”

  “And the plows come out when?”

  “If we’re lucky, they get out here several weeks after the storm ends. If we get multiple storms, the delay can be even longer. It takes them so long to clear the main roads that they usually rest for a few days before starting on the little ones.” He moved back and leaned against the doorjamb. “We’ve had a lot of snow this season. I’m surprised an avalanche hasn’t already closed the pass.”

  They had been getting a lot of snow this season. The skiers were in seventh heaven. But she didn’t ski and had a job to get back to—as well as a life, such as it was. “So about how long am I going to be stranded out here?”

  He hesitated again, “Last time we had a storm like this it took a month.”

  “A month!” She sat up, clutching the blankets to her chest. “I can’t stay here for a month. I need to get home.” What was she going to do about work?

  “There’s been a couple of times when it was longer than a month before we could get through the pass.”

  “How do you survive that long without power?”

  “I have a propane tank and a backup generator that I can only use sparingly.”

  “Then I can get my clothes dried?”

  “I only have a washing machine, no dryer.”

  No dryer. Did anyone live like that these days? But then…she knew several wizarding families who lived without any electric. She needed to know more about him. “How do you get them dry?”

  “I hang them up.”

  “I assume you hung up my clothes. Are they dry now?”

  “Yes and no. The fire dies down overnight so they’re still wet, but they should be dry later today.”

  “You at least have a phone, don’t you?”

  He looked away.

  More bad news.

  “Most of the time, yes.”

  “Don’t tell me. The phone is also out.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  This was unbelievable. “My boss isn’t going to understand. This is like ‘my dog ate my homework.’ I’m stuck in the snow—for a month or more.” Her mind raced through the possible ways of traveling during winter. “I know. What about a snowmobile? Could you drive me into the nearest town?”

  “Unfortunately, the road you came in on is the only way in or out. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that an avalanche blocked the valley pass last night. If so, it’ll take a while before anyone can get through.” He watched her face intently. “Why did you drive out this way? Why didn’t you stop at the hotel next to the highway?”

  “What hotel?”

  “If you had driven under the highway overpass, you’d have been there. Why didn’t you follow the detour sign?”

  “O-o-o-h-h, great. That’s…just…great! The stupid detour sign blows away so now I’m stuck in the middle of nothing. I could have been tucked away in a nice comfortable hotel…with electricity and phones. But no-o-o…I’m stuck in no-man’s land. I risked life and limb trudging through the snow for what?” She looked up at the wood paneled ceiling, then took a deep breath and released it. “Now what?”

  “You can stay here for now. When the storm lets up, we can decide more.” He ran both hands through his long, shaggy, brown hair and shook his head. “I’ll fix you a late breakfast. You must be starved.”

  She watched his hair settle back down to his shoulders. “If you can’t get out, what do we do for food?”

  “I should have enough to get us through, but we’ll have to be careful. Eggs and milk aren’t a problem, but if the storms last a month, we’ll probably run out of some of the staples.”

  “Run out of staples. What about—Do you have any diet sodas by any chance?” Please, please, please, let him say yes. I need my caffeine. For some people it was their morning cup of coffee, for her it was a soda.

  “Only three, so you’ll want to ration them out. I have enough tea for several days, otherwise you’ll be drinking milk and water.”

  What else could go wrong? She shifted. “Your water pipes don’t freeze up? Do they?”

  “No. They won’t freeze.”

  “What about hot water?”

  “Only limited amounts. No long showers, only short rinses. We need to conserve the propane for cooking and washing clothes. I’m not a fan of doing those chores over a fire. Now get out of bed and get moving before everything stiffens up.”

  “I don’t have any clothes on.”

  He walked into the bedroom and headed to what had to be a closet. He pulled a thick pair of sweatpants and a hoodie out and tossed them to her. “You can use some of my clothes until yours have dried out.”

  “After we eat, I could go out and get my suitcase out of the car.”

  “I’ll get your suitcase, but not until this storm lets up some. I hope you’re not shy. This is a small cabin. Last night I slept in a chair so you could get a good night’s rest. Tonight, I plan to sleep in my own bed. You can either sleep on the other side, or sleep in a chair, or on the floor. The bed is a lot more comfortable and warmer.” He pulled out a thick pair of socks and tossed them to her. Before he left the room, he added, “Get dressed so you can come out and eat.”

  Alex watched him leave, then looked at Mandy and whispered to her. “What am I going to do? He’s a complete stranger. All that hair. I sure hope he isn’t some type of weirdo. I don’t know if I could find some way to get to town if I had to.” She glanced at the shelves full of books. “He must like reading. That’s a good sign.” She reached out to scratch the dog’s head. “He must not be too bad or you wouldn’t be so friendly.”

  She pulled the clothes closer. They smelled like cedar and man. She took a deep breath—no cologne, no bad BO, evergreens, and maybe a hint of summer grass. An interesting mix.

  But how could she get in touch with her family so they wouldn’t worry? After she’d been out of touch for a while, her mom would probably use a crystal suspended over a map to scry for her and see where she was. Then she’d send a pigeon with a message. That was her mom’s preferred method of communicating with other wizards. A little outdated, but then so was her mom. The problem would be that pigeons were common in the cities, but out here they’d be noticeable. If so, she’d have to intercept the bird without him seeing. Somehow, she’d find a way to get in touch with them.

  Chapter 3

  Steve strode out to the kitchen to start breakfast. Crazy woman. She could have killed herself. He plunked the skillet on the burner and grabbed some eggs from the basket on the counter. When the storm lets up, Peter will check the pass. If it’s clear, we’ll get her to the hotel. If not, I’ll send her over to Peter’s house. He won’t mind taking in an attractive woman.

  I li
ve out here for a reason. I don’t want guests—even ones as interesting as her. Besides, she’ll be more comfortable at Peter’s. He has all the modern conveniences. A woman like her won’t be able to cope in a cabin that doesn’t even have central heat, let alone electricity.

  ****

  Alex slid over to the side of the bed and dressed. This was the first chance she got to notice the room. There was a window on the opposite wall, but the window was covered with heavy, wooden shutters bolted shut, like you’d see in the eighteenth century to keep out wildlife. On the interior side of the room, was an open closet. She poked her head in. The left walls were covered with shelves, whereas the right side had hang-up rods and more shelves. It actually extended quite a ways back. A trace of cedar filled the air. The rest of the bedroom wall and adjoining wall were covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves loaded with all types of books. She quickly scanned the spines, nothing magical.

  Alex scratched Mandy. “I guess we’d better go see what’s for chow.”

  She stopped in the doorframe and looked around clockwise. Four large sash windows with shutters opened into the room and bracketed a river rock fireplace, flooding the room with diffused light. There wasn’t a sofa, but two brown leather chairs with ottomans and a small rectangular table were centered in front of the fireplace. A couple of books as well as a pewter Aladdin lamp filled the table. The lamp had a clear chimney that extended through a pale green glass shade. Almost the same make and model of kerosene lamp her grandmother had. Only her grandmother’s had a red glass shade and hung from the ceiling. Aladdin made lamps famous for the amount of light they put out as long as the mantel was in good condition. The room should be well lit up at night.

  Most of the opposite wall was covered with bookshelves and books. A clothesline stretched between the shelves and the rough timber mantel. Her missing clothes were hanging up, but still sagged with moisture. Past the bookcase was a door, water heater, refrigerator, stove, and sink. He had his back to her as he moved pans around on the stove. She did a quick scan down his body. He couldn’t be carrying a wand, she would see it in his formfitting jeans. He might be normal after all. Why did she get such a strong reaction to him? She continued looking around the room, to a simple table and four chairs, with clean lines, which separated the spaces. Everything was on the older side but looked like it had been well cared for.

  This wasn’t unlike some of the older wizarding families’ homes. Except now they would have a lead-lined room so they could use their electronics. Magic and electricity refused to co-operate; magic loved to fry nearby electronics. She had to keep replacing phones because of accidentally using magic nearby.

  The only sounds in the room were the fire, the rattle of pans, and sizzling bacon. The storm must have died down. She edged over to the closest window and swiped some of the frost away. A glass-enclosed porch ran across the back of the cabin. That’s why she didn’t hear the wind. In general, the cabin appeared to be clean and neat. Maybe he was simply a normal man who liked to live out among the mountains instead of a crowded city.

  “Bathroom?” she asked.

  He pointed to the right.

  She headed for the open doorway to her right, looked at the front door, and stopped.

  The door was made out of heavy, wooden planks bound with black iron straps, a lot thicker than the average door. Two large, black, iron brackets were on the door as well as one on each side of the doorframe. A two-by-six plank rested in the brackets stretching from one side of the doorframe to the other as a brace. The deadbolt set in the door was inconsequential compared to the bar plank. It reminded her of the medieval castles in movies where there were doors like this that used the crossbar to keep the marauding hordes out. She glanced at the back door. It was exactly like the front. What could possibly be big enough to require this kind of protection? A large bear or elk? Yeah, right, a large bear.

  She turned to the open doorway, went in, and reached for a door. “Where’s the door?”

  “No door. Just pull the sheet across the opening,” he answered while he continued to cook.

  “Great,” she mumbled. “I’m in a strange house, with a strange man, and there isn’t even a door on the bathroom. What kind of place is this?” She looked around the small space. At least it had all the usual fixtures, even if they were almost on top of each other. He appeared to have running water. A definite plus. Maybe she could manage being stuck here a while. She’d find some way to make it work. After all, he had taken her in and kept her from freezing to death.

  She desperately tried to not make a sound while peeing, but it sounded like a waterfall in the tiny space. She shifted her seat which only made it a little quieter. She washed her hands, then took a quick look at herself in the bathroom mirror. Even with the faint light, one side of her hair looked like rats had invaded, balling up her brown strands into knotted clumps. She snatched a comb off the side of the sink and did a quick untangling. This at least made her look a little more presentable. After all, her hair was one of her better assets. She continued to stare at her reflection. She wasn’t too tall, short, thin, fat, ugly, or beautiful—absolutely average. Her whole life had been about being average. Even her magical powers were average. That’s why she was trying to live in the normal world with normal people. People with no magic. Her younger brother had the magical talent and her older sister had the looks to land a successful wizard husband. If she had to listen to her parents asking when she’d get married one more time, she’d scream. She placed the comb back on the sink. Being out here with a normal man, for a day or two, would give her the chance to make sure she wouldn’t use any magic. The number one rule in the wizarding world was that normals couldn’t know about magic.

  “Hurry up in there. Your eggs are ready,” he called.

  “This might be good for me after all,” she said to her reflection. She could hear the plates and dishes rattle as she pushed the curtain back across the rod. “How do you get by without doors?”

  “Why do I need doors? So Mandy can’t watch? No one else is here.”

  “You’re right. You wouldn’t need any.” She took a seat at the table. “I have to warn you—I’ll probably be really crabby when I withdraw from caffeine.” She admired the polished tabletop with the plain tan stoneware. It fit the rest of the space.

  “Then make sure you keep tapering down on the tea. By the end of the week, you’ll be down to only one cup without having too many withdrawal symptoms. Just remember to keep drinking a lot of water.”

  Most days she didn’t eat much breakfast, but this morning she devoured the eggs. Once finished, she was left with thinking about her situation. “How long is this current storm supposed to last?”

  “The forecast was for between two to three days. Then another storm front is expected. The first break we get, I’ll make a trip to your car.”

  She toyed with her fork. “I can walk out to my car. You don’t have to.” After all, she wasn’t completely helpless.

  “Have you ever used snowshoes before?”

  “No, but I got from my car to here without any.”

  “And Mandy found you collapsed on my porch. Without snowshoes, it would take about twenty to thirty minutes each way. With snowshoes, I can probably make the trip in ten minutes. We won’t get a long break with these storms, and I don’t want either of us caught outside when one builds up again.” For the first time, he looked directly into her eyes.

  She returned his gaze. “I see your point.” His eyes were a light steel gray with flecks of blue. They pulled her in with their intensity. “There has to be something I can do?” She stopped playing with her fork as she watched his eyes.

  “Every morning and evening, I have to milk the cow. In the mornings, there are eggs to collect, the cow’s stall to clean, feed to be dispensed, and water bowls to change. Then there are dishes, cooking, washing, and cleaning to do. After everything is done then I usually sit down and enjoy a good book.”

  “What ab
out TV? Oh yeah—no electricity.” She again started playing with her fork while thinking. “I don’t know how to do the milking, but I should be able to help you with some of the other chores.” Again, she looked at him. “But, I’m lousy at cooking.”

  “That’s okay. I enjoy cooking. I’ll be glad for your help with as much as you can manage. I have some spare boots that you can use, but they’ll be big. The morning chores still need doing. I didn’t want to leave you for very long in case you needed help, so I only got the milking done.”

  “Show me where the boots are and we can get to work.” She got up and put their dishes in the sink.

  “I’ll leave the boots inside the barn door. But I’d recommend putting on one of my flannel shirts instead of the sweatshirt.”

  “How do you get to the animals in weather like this?” After adding some water to the dishes, she turned and leaned against the sink.

  He pointed to the wall with the bookshelves. “Do you see the doorway next to the fridge? That door goes to the pantry where there’s another door leading directly into the barn. This makes life a lot easier during the winter. The animals are in a warm barn instead of being outside. I keep the chickens penned up, and during the summer I keep the cow in a tall fenced enclosure. I only have one cow and a limited number of chickens, which I can’t afford to lose to a predator. This makes it easy for me to get my milk and eggs.”

  “By the way, I’m Alex Klein.” She moved closer and extended her hand.

  He stood and gently enclosed her hand in his. “Glad to meet you, Alex. I’m Steven Davis, but my friends call me Steve.”

  A charge tingled her fingers. Was he a wizard or not? She’d have to find out, at least figure out why she wanted to touch him so much. “Nice to meet you, Steve, and thanks for helping me out last night.”

  “The least I could do for a damsel in distress.” He smiled and released her hand. He went to the bedroom, laid a shirt on the bed for her, then headed out to the barn.

  She took a few minutes to do a quick search of the bedroom and closet, no wand or hidden books. She replaced the hoodie with the flannel shirt, then headed out of the bedroom. At least she was alive and safe. She looked around the cabin again, at the fireplace and the simple furnishings. Alive maybe, but living in the nineteenth century. Why would a normal person choose to live like this? He must have an interesting story.