Page 2 of Snow Drift

After getting up and stretching, I text my mother with my weekly check-in, then dress quickly. It's downright chilly throughout the chalet, especially in the rooms that don't have fireplaces. Which, of course, includes the staff wing. There is a central heating system for this building, of course, but like the building, it's old. It can't quite keep up.

Peeking out the window, I see that the entire world is an icy snow globe this morning. Chunks of hail are starting to fall, bouncing off the ice encrusted snow.

I throw on a cardigan and roll up the sleeves. Then I take the back hallway to the kitchen for coffee, and to see if Rosa needs any help. Officially I'm the cleaner here, Rosa the cook, and Maya the server, but since it's such a small staff, we all help each other when necessary.

There's also a handyman named Cooper that someone said is an old friend of Mrs. H.'s brother, but who knows. He's quiet on the rare occasions we see him.

We've all been doing a deep clean of the chalet this week, since there are only three guests. I didn't see them yesterday, since I was scrubbing the sunroom almost all day and nobody would want to spend any length of time there this week. It's not heated. I swear, my fingers are still chilly. But it's a lovely room, with the best view of the grounds out back. Okay, it's just snow right now, but I hope to see some of the plants coming back to life in the spring before I leave for my next job.

I'm not used to hanging out in rooms with lots of windows. That usually makes me uneasy. Either I'm finally starting to relax a bit, or being surrounded by nature is calming down my…glitches.

As soon as I get to the kitchen, I fill a coffee mug and warm my hands around it. Rosa looks to have breakfast under control, but out of habit I check anyway. "Need a hand with anything?" I call across the enormous kitchen.

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Maya just went out to the back pantry for supplies."

"Cool. I'll go do a quick tidy-up of the library before those guys dive into their read-a-thon again."

I grab my supply basket and head toward the library, which is where these particular guests always spend their time all week.They're repeat guests who have been here often, and my boss knows their habits. That's comforting.

My days are always spent cleaning wherever the guests aren't. Not just because I usually avoid people, but also so I don't disturb them.

Mrs. H. – short for Harrison – who runs the chalet, adores these guys. They're very low maintenance, I hear, and I think she likes the quiet week with little stress.

She's been in charge here forever, and apparently co-owns it with her brother. There's a rumor that it was her dedication to this place that led to her divorce. Yet all of the staff and guests still refer to her as Mrs. H. With her snug auburn bun and slightly old-fashioned demeanor, the name genuinely suits her.

The library is spotless, which means either Maya already cleared up the guys' late night drinks, or they're so thoughtful they brought their own glasses to the massive butler's pantry.

I quickly run a fluffy duster over every main surface, including the three tidy stacks of books on the coffee table in front of the trio of arm chairs arranged in a semi-circle facing the fireplace.

One of the piles has a couple of mysteries, and a serious-looking philosophy book. Another stack includes several hard-core action adventure books and what I think they call "police procedurals". The third has some mysteries and thrillers and…horticultural magazines? Odd.

I run my microfiber cloth quickly over each chair, then glance around the room. Breakfast will be served soon, so I can't run the vacuum. But otherwise, this room is as shipshape as it can be, not that these guys will ever notice with their noses buried in all these books.

I have to admit, it's kind of sexy to think these guys are voracious readers. It means they're smart aswellas beingrugged mountain men. I've heard their heavy footsteps, and noticed their huge trucks in the front parking lot.

Some people like to pretend that this giant chalet is their own home during their visit, and nobody wants to see the cleaning staff, so I stay well out of sight. Rosa once joked that I'm like a cleaning fairy, appearing and disappearing when people need me.

I pack up my things and hurry from the library to the tiny servants' hallway behind the dining room. Turning the corner into the butler's pantry, I run smack dab into a gray flannel shirt… so hard that I legit bounce off him and nearly hit the wall.

Looking up, I blink in shock, barely registering that this gorgeous man has grabbed my arm to steady me.

Those eyes! They're a rich, dark gray. A bit bluer than his shirt, but just barely. The smoky color of clouds just before it snows. Wow, where did that thought come from?

"Are you okay?" His voice is rich as fine mahogany. Simple and refined. My mind is turning cartwheels just from looking at his tanned, chiseled face. The short beard emphasizes his square jawline, and his thick, chestnut hair has just a touch of a wave at the top.

"I'm fine. I'm so sorry, sir." I try to step back, but he's still holding me gently.

"Take a breath," he commands softly. "You seem a bit rattled."

The light fixture over his head flickers hard. I know it's just the wind shaking the powerlines…it happens a lot…but still it feels important. Like some kind of sign.

His free hand takes my supply basket and sets it on the floor. "Damn. You have to lug all of this around the place all day?"

An unfamiliar giggle bubbles out of me. "Yes. Hotel-style cleaning trolleys don't go with the classic old-fashioned vibe we have going on here."

He beams, releasing my arm to gently squeeze my bicep. "Since there's no gym here, I guess that's one way to stay in shape." His head suddenly shakes and he steps back, suddenly realizing that he's touching me. He sticks out his hand formally. "I'm Moore."

"Kallie."

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