I hand her a printout of some of the files I’ve been studying and set my laptop on the side table next to her. “Don’t stress if you don’t see anything unusual. I’ve been staring at that for days and still haven’t come up with anything.”
“You know, it would help if you told me what you’re looking for.”
There’s a number of reasons I haven’t said anything. If she doesn’t know I own the lodge—and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t—then there’s no chance of her changing tactics to try and snare me into a relationship.
Been there. Ain’t ever going back.
And maybe if she doesn’t know what to look for, if there is something there I’ve missed, she’ll flag any incongruences. “Just make a note if something looks off or different in some way.”
She tucks a pencil into the messy bun on the crown of her head and shrugs. “Okay boss. I’ll do my best.”
Unable to resist, I give her a quick kiss. “May we both be successful in our searches.”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes sparkle and I force myself to turn away and walk out the door to the garage.
Thankfully, I’d taken the time a couple weeks ago to switch out the tires on my ATV for snowtracks. Using the vehicle will get me to the clearing and back quicker and easier than trudging through the snow. I hope any tracks she made haven’t been covered by blowing snow.
I grab my helmet from its hook on the wall and start the vehicle. My first stop is the area close to the cabin where she passed out. Nothing there but our tracks meeting at a large, messy depression in the snow. My tracks are deeper when I returned to the cabin carrying her.
Grinning at the observation that took me back to when I was a kid. I’d begged my uncle to teach me how to track. I was going to be a mountain man and live off the land. I’d had it all planned out. That interest had lasted almost until high school graduation. I’m comfortable in the backwoods, with no other homes, no people nearby. And just as at home in my suite at the lodge.
I wonder which Deca would prefer.
The lodge might be too fancy for her, but if she plans to run a business in Pine Woods, living out this far wouldn’t be convenient. Why do I care? These thoughts make it sound like I’m planning a future with her. I’m not. Just helping out a new friend.
With benefit, if we keep going as fast as we were this morning. I’m good with sharing benefits with her.
Steering carefully around trees and boulders, I follow the path of her shuffling footsteps. There’s a few places where she fell, disrupting a large area of snow. One where she slid six feet down a rocky slope and climbed back up to the ridge. But no teal blue silk bag of rocks.
I do find her missing shoe stuck in the exposed roots of a huge fir tree. This may be where and how she twisted her ankle. I think I’m about half way between the cabin and the clearing I’m certain she used for her dancing. If she walked this far on an injured ankle, it may be more damaged than I thought. She’ll need to see a doctor.
There’s no additional evidence of falls but the snow in the clearing has been well trampled. Guess she really did come here to dance. I get off the ATV and make a slow circuit of the area looking for her bag. I’m about to give up when a puff of wind blows snow across the area. Then I see the bit of fabric peeking through the snow, fluttering as if it’s flagging down my attention.
I scrape through the accumulated snow to discover a variety of stones laid out in what once must have been a precise pattern on the cloth. There’s no branches above the area to have blocked the moonlight. The perfect place for her to ‘charge’ her crystals.
I stare at the stones, wondering what kind of power each one is supposed to have then laugh at my folly. She’s got me considering things I don’t believe in. Thinking about possibilities that have no place in my well planned and structured life. The best thing I can do for both of us is to keep my hands to myself and get her back to town and her own life as soon as possible.
The bag is wet but silk is supposed to be strong so I hope the rocks will be safe on their journey back to their believer. Removing my glove, I sift through the snow around the bagsearching for any stones that may have rolled off the silk. The drawstring on the wet bag doesn’t want to open so using my cold, wet hand, I struggle with the unyielding cord before being able to dump the stones inside. The entire package isn’t very large and fits easily in my pocket for safe transport home.
I can’t wait to see her expression when I hand her the bag and drive a bit recklessly on the way home. The ATV only skidded close to a drop off once, but it was enough for me to cool my jets and travel according to the conditions, not what my cock wants.
Because I’m hoping for a reward for braving the elements and snowy terrain to bring Deca the prize.
Leaving my boots and outer clothes just inside the garage door, I hold her bag of rocks behind my back and enter the main room. There’s Christmas music playing softly from my laptop. I barely see the top of Deca’s head as she bends forward laying cards on the bench where her foot should be. She’s been up walking around, otherwise she wouldn’t have found the cards. Or have a mug of cider at her side.
In all good consciousness I can’t let that go and will need to give her a good talking to. Especially after how far she walked on that ankle last night.
I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”
With a gasp, she scatters the cards already laid out on the bench and drops those she held in one hand. “Oh, uh… playing solitaire.”
That didn’t look like any solitaire layout I’ve ever seen. “You’ll need to teach me that version. It’s a new one for me.”
Her shoulders droop. “I lied. This isn’t solitaire. I’ve been teaching myself to read tarot cards. It’s a lot harder when using regular playing cards. But it can be done.”
“Tarot? Fortune telling?” That’s far beyond my ordered life. Almost like something from another planet. I shouldn’t allow my thoughts to go any further where she’s involved. Shouldn’t evenentertain the idea of a sexual relationship with this woman. I don’t need to be tangled up in a bunch of new age woo woo shit.
“No,” she says with enough force to stall my thoughts. “Tarot doesn’t tell fortunes. Although I’ll admit sometimes it can feel that way. And some practitioners do claim to tell fortunes by using the cards to reveal specifics or potential outcomes.
