Page 1 of Cold Snap

1

BAZ

It’s hard to feel at ease anywhere other than in the mountain cabin I've built with my own two hands. Everywhere else in the world is too loud, too frantic, too filled with… What do you call them? Oh. Yeah.People.

But here at Wolfe Mountain Chalet…with my two best friends, a stack of good books, and a crackling fire…this place comes pretty damned close. Our annual getaway is our version of socializing: three fantastic meals each day, wonderful wine and whiskey, and just enough conversation. Dylan and Moore, my old university buddies, are almost as taciturn as I am. They like to razz me about being the biggest and quietest, but shooting them one of my trademark deadly glares shuts them up fast.

I take a sip of the single malt beside me, sneaking a glance at my friends. We've always been a three-man shield against the babbling of other people. The sweet lady that runs this chalet allows us to book our annual stay during a week of predictably bad weather when there are no other guests.

Yeah, we're loners, and we like it this way.

"Is your book not very interesting, or are you counting down the seconds till we're eating their famous lasagna again?" Dylan asks me.

Moore chuckles. "He's probably worrying who's going to be on Sasquatch duty while he's away from his section of the mountain."

He's lucky: if anyone else in the world made that crack I'd snarl until they left the room. I try to glare, but don't quite succeed. "You wouldn't make it a single week on the mountain, flower boy." I'll never stop teasing Moore for studying engineering and then ending up a landscaper. His business is doing really well, so I really should congratulate him. But frankly, it's more amusing to pick on him.

He air-kicks in my direction but can't be bothered getting up from his unbelievably cozy worn leather arm chairs.

"Hey, at least I have a job. A company with employees. You have… What is it again? Oh yeah. Family money that you invested, and lost hikers to save."

Dylan nearly chokes on his whiskey. "Yeah, for a guy who claims to prefer avoiding other people, he does seem to run into them all the time out on those trails."

Pulling the whiskey bottle closer, I open it, pouring myself another generous splash. "You will tell me that I'm a good man for saving those idiot hikers, or no more whiskey for you."

They both let out something between a scowl and a chuckle, then hold their empty glasses out to me. "My bad. You're a hero," Dylan drawls, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah. And a rich, successful businessman, or…whatever," Moore adds.

I pour them each another drink, then we all lean forward to clink our glasses together. "May we all be so fortunate as to end up as wealthy as the Wolfe family," I say. "They're not a talkative bunch, but Barrett occasionally mentions what some of thoseWolfe folks get up to." My head shakes. "Some of them are crazy rich. Like dragons hoarding gold. At least that's how Barrett puts it."

"How's your brother?" Dylan asks. "Still a surly loner like you?"

I snort. "Compared to Barrett, I'm a laugh-a-minute social butterfly."

We chat about our families for a few minutes, then a comfortable silence descends over us and we settle back into our books. That's one of the things I like about these guys. We all know instinctively when we've had enough chitchat. Over the course of this week we'll talk over meals, but we also know when it's time to be quiet.

Staring into the crackling fire, it hits me slowly. Maybe that's why we're all still alone. We don't know how to open up. Women tend to be talkers. They're better at communicating. It's in their nature, I think.

If I don't start learning how to talk to women, I'm never going to find one. And I'll spend the rest of my life alone on the mountain, with my wonderful house and incredible property, but nobody to share it with.

Staring down into my whiskey, I make a silent vow to myself. Next week when I get home, I'm going to make more of an effort to spend a bit more time around people. Little things, like not always getting my coffee to go, but sitting in the café for a while. Or meandering a bit in the grocery store and trying to say hello to people, rather than zooming in and out.

Although I don't really know what I have to offer a woman, if I found the right one, I know I'd go to the ends of the Earth to make her happy.

I'm going to start making an effort to look for her.

2

ROSA

Surveying the kitchen, I smile. It's that point between meals when I can sit down and take a breather for a moment. I make myself a peppermint tea and review the suggested menus that Mrs. H. has proposed for the week.

She always gives me a ton of leeway to cook using whatever is in season, and has mentioned that anything goes this week. She knows these guests and apparently as long as I include stew, gourmet burgers, and the chalet's signature lasagna at some point, these three mountain men will be happy.

That means I can get creative with the little extras. Which is why I just sent Maya out with some special biscuits to go with their coffee while the men are reading this morning.

What kind of guys get together for an annual reunion and spend most of their time reading together? It's weird, yet at the same time charming.

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