Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
From the safety of the warmth inside, obviously.
The power and amazement of winter could actually be appreciated when one could hear their thoughts between constant shivers and mind-numbing cold.
An open-concept layout welcomed guests to the largest section of rooms with the kitchen first. Beyond that, and the ticking wood chief currently pumping out all the heat sat in the very middle between the rooms, blocked up on a circle of red bricks with a black pipe jutting up from the stove and through the ceiling to the roof outside where the smoke left the chimney in tendrils.
A stairwell, with a smooth, stained railing led up to a loft that couldn’t be properly viewed from downstairs, but that she could make out the legs of what appeared to be twin beds. Just beyond the stairs and using the back end of the stairwell as an enclave entry for the sitting room, sat an old couch that looked comfortable and two worn recliner chairs facing a rear bay window that peered into the quiet, cold forest.
The wood paneled walls greeted Delaney with picture frames filled with images of a young boy, and a man she knew on sight. The similar features in their smiling faces reflected one another and didn’t escape her notice, but also remained the same in the age progression in the many photographs filling the walls as she moved from one side of the cottage to the other.
One, in particular, had the younger boy holding a large trout while a gentleman behind him, who she didn’t recognize but shared the same smile and cleft chin, stood behind him in shorts and a polo. He’d smiled for the shot with a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
A younger Lucas kneeled in the background of the photo, clutching to fishing rods and smiling like he hadn’t expected the picture.
A lot of the photographs had a similar theme—woods, nature, and the great outdoors. Not to mention, the people within the photos remained the same, with only a few different guests between the many framed shots, mostly candids, that appeared to span years.
Lucas’ family?
The age gap between Lucas and the boy in the photos made her question who he could be, if only because her mind didn’t go straight to a sibling at first. That was possible, though. Was the younger boy his br—
“See, not so bad inside,” Lucas muttered as he lumbered into the cottage, bringing the cold air with him. He slammed the front door shut, scuffed his snow-dusted boots off on the entry rug of faded, woven colors, and dropped their bags just beyond the danger of any melting ice they bought in with their travels. His gaze found her across the cozy cottage where she stood haloed in the afternoon light spilling in the rear window. “I guess the Smith boys got my call after all.”
“Good thing, huh?”
Lucas let out a hard breath, nodding as his stare drifted around the place he had tried to call a hunting cabin. “In my head, it’s always bigger. Like when I was a kid.”
Delaney smiled, hearing the memories he held back. “I could see how you could really be just a kid, way out here.”
He cleared his throat, and his wistful grin wobbled for a split second. Not lingering on whatever pain he’d felt, Lucas pulled the gloves from his hands and nodded toward the kitchen. “Did you check the stove?”
“Why would I?”
“You wouldn’t.” Lucas winked. “The Smith boys, their mom—well, she always sends something to get us through the first night before we can drive into Arthurette for whatever we need.”
“I’ve never actually been inside that store,” Delaney said as Lucas made a beeline for the stove.
A good twenty-minute drive out of the deep, quiet Birch Ridge sat a small county of a couple hundred residents that called Arthurette home. Located between a desolate stretch of raw, rural New Brunswick that connected The Flats where her friend called home, and the nearby town of Plaster Rock, it had exactly one general store that doubled as a gas station.
For people making the long trek from one side of the mountains to the other, and needed to stop for gas, of course. Or a pack of smokes.
“You haven’t missed much,” he said, grabbing hold of the oven’s handle. “We may need to take the truck into town.”
She had yet to even see the truck.
Her disinterest in the chilly outdoors kept her from asking important questions about the vehicle—like if it was even licensed or legal to drive. Way the hell out in no man’s land, maybe nobody fucking cared.
At the moment, she didn’t.
“Aha,” Lucas proclaimed, stepping aside to show Delaney what waited inside.
Two, white plastic shopping bags sat on the oven racks, with one filled to the top with containers meant for food storage. Lucas grabbed both, but only one clinked interestingly.