Page 75 of Beastly Mountain Man

The air smelled impossibly clean.

Snow clung to the branches above us in thick white shelves. Every so often one gave way with a soft rush and dropped powder onto the ground.

I had spent the first evening at Fire Mountain watching the trees through glass.

Now I knew which path led to Lucky’s house.

I knew where Bear would try to dive off the side of it if given enough leash.

I knew Lucky slowed before the shallow dip beneath the snow without needing to announce that he was doing it for me.

Those were small things.

I had begun to understand that small things could accumulate into something alarmingly large.

The upper rental cabin appeared through the trees.

Warm lights glowed behind the windows.

My Audi sat exactly where I had left it, mostly buried around the tires and lower body, with snow thick across the roof and hood.

I stopped.

Lucky followed my gaze.

“That is tomorrow’s problem.”

“Good.”

He looked at me.

I smiled. “I’m experimenting with assigning problems to the correct day.”

“How’s it feel?”

“Deeply irresponsible.”

“Want to go back and clear it now?”

“Absolutely not.”

His smile widened.

“That helped.”

Inside, the cabin felt both familiar and strange after only a few hours away.

My closed laptop remained on the dining table beside the notebook, tablet, charger, and the work bag I had once believed required constant supervision.

Nothing had happened to any of it.

I walked past.

That might have been the most dramatic thing I did all evening.

I changed into clean black leggings, thick socks, and a loose cream knit from my suitcase while Lucky fed another log into the fireplace.

Bear took immediate possession of the hearth rug.