Chapter 10 - The Winter Fire
Winter in the high country was unforgiving. In December, a massive blizzard blew down from the Canadian border, dumping four feet of powder across the valley and snapping power lines along the county corridor.
The cottage remained warm thanks to the stone hearth and the cord of seasoned tamarack wood stacked on the south porch. Elena sat on the living room rug, reading a picture book to Leo by the soft amber glow of a kerosene lantern.
A knock sounded at the heavy front door—three firm, measured taps.
Elena frowned, setting the book down. She walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.
Julian stood on the porch, wrapped in a heavy winter parka, holding a gas-powered snow shovel and two large red plastic containers of kerosene. The snow was caked in his eyelashes and beard; his breath puffed in thick white plumes against the freezing dark.
Elena cracked the door, keeping the safety latch on. "Julian? What are you doing here? The roads are closed."
"The county plow broke an axle on the lower pass," Julian said, his voice shivering slightly. "The town council announced that the power grid on the south ridge won't be back up until tomorrow evening. I knew your grandmother’s place relied on the electric blower for the secondary heat duct. I walked the two miles up from the motel with the kerosene."
Elena stared at him. The temperature outside was eight degrees below zero. The hike up the ridge road in waist-deep snow was dangerous even for seasoned locals.
"Are you insane?" she breathed, undoing the latch and opening the heavy door wide. "Get in before you freeze your hands off."
Julian stepped inside onto the utility rug, carefully setting the heavy fuel jugs in the corner. He stomped the snow from his boots, his face flushed bright red from the biting frost.
"I didn't come to impose, Elena," Julian said quickly, holding up his gloved hands. "I just wanted to make sure Leo had auxiliary heat for the night. I can walk back down to the—"
"You're not walking two miles in a blizzard, Julian. You'd be dead in a snowbank before you reached the bridge," Elena snapped, her practical nature overriding any lingering hesitation. "Take off that wet coat. I have tea on the wood stove."
Leo poked his head around the corner of the hallway. When he saw the snowy figure, his face lit up like a festival flare.
"Daddy! Snowman Daddy!"
Julian dropped to his knees on the mat, his cold, chapped face softening as Leo threw his small arms around his neck. Julian closed his eyes, burying his face into his son’s flannel collar, his broad shoulders trembling with a quiet, suppressed breath of gratitude.
May you like
"Hey, buddy," Julian whispered. "Hey, my boy."
Elena stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the two of them. She felt no desire to pull them apart, nor any desire to reclaim the life they had once lived. There was no romance left in her heart for Julian, but in that moment, she felt something far more enduring take its place: peace.
