Snow Falls

chapter Five



Sleeping arrangements had not occurred to her. She had spent the evening trying to curb her curiosity and limit her questions, even though Ryan rarely answered one anyway. Dinner had been simple. Canned soup. She hadn’t had much of an appetite so the light fare was perfect. She’d sorted through the backpack she’d had the forethought to grab from the SUV. It contained two pairs of jeans, three long-sleeved T-shirts, two bulky sweaters, and thankfully, panties and bras. Not much for several weeks but Ryan assured her the utility room contained a functioning washer and dryer. She’d left the backpack on the floor, not wanting to get into Ryan’s space. Ryan had watched her doing inventory of the pack but had not commented, other than to mention laundry. The silence continued after their quick dinner. The sitting area contained one recliner, which Ryan used, and a small, undersized sofa, which Jen had claimed. The dogs took the rug. The stove kept the area plenty warm and Jen would admit that it was cozy. The only light came from a lamp positioned between them and the stove, which gave off a cheery glow, making for a comfortable end to the day. Quiet, but comfortable. They’d both had their laptops out, Ryan tapping away on something she chose not to talk about and Jen deciding to write a journal about her adventure so far. Not exactly a writer’s workshop but in case something happened to her—like getting hacked up into tiny pieces—maybe someone would find her journal and know of her fate. But at ten minutes before ten, Ryan had closed her laptop and stood, pausing to stretch. She said nothing as she slipped on her coat and took the dogs outside, presumably for a potty break. Jen took this as a sign of bedtime.

Now, after her turn in the bathroom—using a donated toothbrush from Ryan—she waited for instructions. Ryan and the dogs were in the bedroom and Jen stood nervously in the small hallway.

“You coming or what?”

The kitchen and sitting areas were dark. She turned toward the bedroom, finding Ryan standing by the bed, a lit lamp on either side. Jen looked at her and swallowed.

“You’re offering to share your bed?” she asked quietly.

“Do you have another idea?”

“I can probably fit on the sofa,” Jen suggested.

“Yeah, you’re pretty short. You’d probably fit. Although if you have to spend six or eight weeks on it, that’s going to get very old.”

Jen drew her brows together. “Short? I’m not short.”

Ryan said nothing as she pulled back the covers. Then, as if an afterthought, “The stove in here should last until morning. But if you get up to pee, toss a log inside, would you?”

Ryan turned out the lamp on her side and got in the bed, leaving Jen standing in the doorway. She sighed. Had to get lost, didn’t you? Speaking of getting old, being stuck here with a woman who barely speaks could get very tiresome. Could be worse though, she thought. She could have been buried in an avalanche. But still, she hesitated. She’d shared a bed with only one other person in her entire life. And even then, she wasn’t comfortable. Brad was used to it now and it was rare that he stayed the night anymore.

She let out a deep breath again, taking one last look into the darkened living room, seeing a faint glow through the window. The moon? Maybe tomorrow would prove sunny. Ryan had mentioned a hike up along the ridge to see if they could get a signal on her phone. Jen assumed when she didn’t show up at the lodge that someone would call her agent as she was the one who had booked her into the workshop. She needed to let Susan know she was okay, at least. And Brad, of course.

She maneuvered around the dogs that were sprawled out on the rug. Neither lifted their heads, but their eyes followed her progress as she went to the opposite side of the bed. Ryan had her back to her and Jen quietly lifted the covers, then realized she was still completely dressed. She kicked off her boots and stepped out of her jeans, leaving her socks on. She debated on whether to remove her sweater as well and decided to leave it on. She turned the light out, then eased into bed, hugging the side, staying as far away from Ryan as possible. On her back, she stared at the ceiling, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, broken only by the orange glow that escaped the confines of the stove, their heat source for the night. She should be exhausted after the stressful day she’d had, yet she felt wide awake. The minutes ticked away slowly as her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. Sleep would not come. Even so, Ryan’s voice startled her.

“If you’re worried, I promise I won’t chop you into little pieces and bury you in the snow.”

“That’s comforting. Thanks.” Jen wondered how Ryan knew she wasn’t asleep. She hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d gotten in the bed.

“I couldn’t bury you in the snow anyway. You know it’s going to melt eventually. There’d be evidence.”

Jen’s eyes widened and she swallowed nervously. After what seemed an abnormally long moment of silence, Ryan rolled over onto her back.

“I could, I suppose, haul you up to the edge of Cooper’s Peak and drop you into Cutter’s Canyon. Old Johnnie Cutter would be the only one who might possibly stumble on your body someday.”

Jen could barely breathe, and she was afraid to move a muscle. She really is a crazy old hermit. Panic set in and she was about to bolt from the bed when Ryan clamped a hand around her arm. Jen just barely stifled a scream.

“I’m kidding,” Ryan said, a smile in her voice. “You know that, right?”

Jen took a deep breath, swallowing down her fear. “So are you telling me you have a sense of humor? I mean, it’s a sick one, but still...”

Ryan gave a short laugh, then again rolled over away from her. “Goodnight, Jennifer Kincaid.”

Jen turned her head slowly, staring at the back of Ryan’s head. “Goodnight.” Despite feeling less threatened, she knew she’d still have a hard time falling asleep. Growing up the way she had, with the fear of everything instilled in her, having someone in her bed was an abnormality. Even after all these years with Brad, she still couldn’t sleep comfortably with him. It was on a rare occasion that he suggested he stay the night. Or vice versa. Now, surprisingly, she found herself drifting off. She let her eyes slip closed, giving in to her exhaustion.