When I ducked back out of the outbuilding, a few more snowflakes fluttered over my face. Luckily I wasn’t planning on going anywhere before morning, and I’d have wood and the food and supplies I’d brought if nothing else. The rear patio door next to the hot tub didn’t take the first key I tried or the second or the same one as the outbuilding either. But then I went back to the first key, jiggled the knob a little, and the lock turned.
“Who’s got the magic touch?” I crowed to the empty woods before opening the door. It let out a loud creak but would be an easy fix to put on my list. The door opened into a hallway with a neat row of hooks for coats and a mat for shoes and boots. Taking the hint, I took a second to take off my boots so I wouldn’t track mud and snow all over the house. I left my coat on until I could assess the heat situation. The hallway led me past a modest bedroom with what looked to be a queen and bedding already on. Score.
A breaker box hung on the wall between the bedroom and bathroom. The electric was already on, so I tested the light in the bathroom. Worked. The bath was cramped with a cracked vanity, but I’d done multiple submarine tours. The tub/shower combo was practically palatial compared with the head on a sub. And after a brief pause with a gasp and sputter, the sink turned on. A little hard to turn and the water was rusty. However, I could let it run later, and I’d brought bottled for drinking, anyway.
“Running water! We’re in business now.” Happy, I hummed to myself as I continued down the hall, which opened into a U-shaped kitchen. Old appliances, but neat and tidy. Like the bath, it was cramped, but it opened to a living area, making it appear bigger. I could already picture games of cards at the built-in eating nook. It’d be a tight fit for my build, but I could always pull up a chair.
The living area was dominated by a stone fireplace and woodstove. I’d come back to that in a moment, but first the stairs beckoned me. I felt like some storybook character exploring a fairy-tale cottage. So far, everything was just right.
“Come on, Goldilocks. Let’s see what’s upstairs.” Talking to myself was helping me feel less alone, especially when the third stair creaked like in a horror movie. I’d brought a portable speaker for my phone. Maybe I could play some music while I messed with the woodstove.
The upstairs had a sleeping loft with three twin beds all in a row made up with identical quilts. “Wow. This really is some fairy-tale shit.”
My nieces and nephews would go nuts for this space. My adult-sized pals were gonna be a tight fit in those beds, but it beat making them bunk down on the floor, and there was also a small room with crowded bookshelves, a rocking chair, and a small desk next to a teeny half bath tucked into the eaves.
“Nice.” Giving the space one last look, I turned to head back downstairs. For a second, I thought I heard the echo of children’s voices. Damn. All this aloneness really was getting to me. Click. I heard another sound, but the noise didn’t repeat. Still, I hastened my trek down the stairs.
Whoosh. A rush of cold air made my whole body tense, every sense on red alert as the front door burst open.
“What the—” Whatever curse I’d been about to bellow was cut off by an ear-piercing shriek as a young girl appeared in the door. If I’d tried to conjure up an actual Goldilocks, I couldn’t have done much better than her pale blond curls, pink cheeks, old-fashioned wool coat, and startled expression.
“There’s someone here!” Her alarmed shout echoed off the wood walls.
“Wait,” I called out right as my sock slid against the stair step. “Whoa!”
I thrust an arm out, but it was already too late and I was tumbling down the last three steps, landing on my ass in a heap at the bottom. Ouch. Trying to figure out what I’d injured, I was still catching my breath when another form appeared in the front doorway, this one adult, male, and mad as a grizzly.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my cabin?”
Chapter Two
Felix
Two hours in the car with two little girls with endless questions, and I was done by the time we reached the cabin. The paint was a little more faded than last time, but the same silly bear that had been there most of my life greeted us, which made my shoulders that much lighter. I pulled up even with the front door for easy unloading.
“I still don’t know why we had to come,” Madeline complained for the thousandth time as we exited my SUV. She’d made it abundantly clear that she was not a fan of the cabin. The snow was coming down more now, making me glad I’d had my winter tires checked before we’d headed to the mountains.
“Here.” I thrust my keys at Madeline rather than argue the point yet again. Charlotte was typically slow, stretching and collecting all the things she’d strewn over the back seat, but I knew better than to hurry her. Instead, I waved Madeline toward the porch. “You go ahead. You can have first pick of the beds.”
That might make her happy for five minutes as the girls always enjoyed the novelty of the loft area. The maintenance company had cleaned after the last renters left, and they’d sent someone around earlier to flip on the electric and make sure no snowdrifts were blocking the driveway. Thus, I was reasonably confident in letting Madeline go first. The place would be cold, but she could explore a few minutes. It had been a while since I’d managed to bring the girls here, and maybe getting reacquainted with the cabin would improve her attitude while I gathered up the luggage and groceries.
Dutifully, she trotted away from the car and worked the lock. She was excellent at mechanical things like that, and I grinned at her triumphant expression.
And then she screamed.
Blood running colder than the snowy landscape, I was already racing up the short path when she yelled again. “There’s someone here!”
“Coming. Don’t go in,” I ordered as I moved faster. Hopefully it was only someone from the maintenance company, but the woman on the phone had made it sound like they’d already been by. My jaw clenched, dread battling frustration. Last thing I needed was a freaked-out Madeline, but I also couldn’t rule out some sort of squatter situation. Or worse.
“Wait!” A male voice sounded right before an alarmed noise and terrible clatter occurred.
I rushed across the porch to bound ahead of Madeline only to come to an abrupt halt. A sandy-haired giant of a man lay sprawled at the base of the stairs. His rugged features were twisted, likely in pain from the fall, and he certainly didn’t look anything like either of the two middle-aged women who ran the vacation home maintenance company.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my cabin?” I demanded.
“Yours?” The guy struggled to sit up. At least the fall had ensured he was less of a threat to our safety. “This is my new place. I won it. I’ve got papers in the car and keys to prove it.”