By the end of our trip, we’d completely filledthe SUVs, even the backseats, leaving just enough room for the six of us.
The car slows, breaking me out of my reverie.
There’s a huge multistory building lighting up the darkness ahead.
The station is even bigger than I imagined, looking like a castle grew out of the mountain made of stone and wood.
Balconies circle the upper floors, and there’s a tower on the right side, tall enough that it peeks over the trees. The large windows have storm shutters that can be closed in severe weather. Unlike most houses, it has a flat roof to serve as a helicopter landing in case of emergencies.
I love the way it looks like it’s standing guard, a fortress watching over everyone. That image is reinforced by the steep slope just below the station, providing a clear view across the valley.
I take it all in as Orion drives around the side and parks, the other SUVs pulling in next to us. The garage is huge too. There are several empty spots, I assume for visitors, while the other end houses jeeps, trucks, a firetruck, snowmobiles, ATVs, and other vehicles for the varied terrain.
Orion closes the garage door to block the cold before we get out.
Cato opens my door, and I’m too excited to see the rest of the station to care about his smirk.
I didn’t think I would care what my station looks like, but now that I’ve seen it, I love it.
We stop in the mudroom to shuck our outerwear. Henri shows me to an empty locker that’s reserved for me among the other lockers and shelves of boots and equipment.
As we take off our things, I get a good look at their physiques. They’re just as muscular as they seemed undertheir coats, although I’m not sure why I felt the need to confirm that fact.
I finally get to see Magnus’s face when he takes his balaclava off. He kept it on all throughout our shopping trip, even when we were inside.
I’m not shocked by the reveal. It’s like I thought, he has strong cheekbones and a square jaw. There are more scars too, one through his lip and other lines crisscrossing his face.
The one surprise is his short brown hair, since it was the only thing hidden under his winter wear.
I hope soon he’ll actually talk to me. Magnus lingered at the edges of the stores while I shopped, so I assumed he’s the quiet, shy type.
It wasn’t until he held the door open for me at one of the boutiques that I got close enough to catch his scent.
Magnus steadied me after it caught me off guard, but after he was sure I wouldn’t fall, he quickly released me and I hardly saw him for the rest of the trip.
But his scent lingered, or maybe he just smells so good I can’t forget it.
Magnus smells like gingerbread, a mix of sweet and spicy. Tangy ginger and warm spices baked into sugary sweet gingerbread cookies. No, sweeter than that, frosted gingerbread cookies or a gingerbread cake with lots of icing.
“We can show you around before bringing in your things,” Orion says.
“That would be great,” I say, bouncing on my feet.
I’d already forgotten about unpacking in my eagerness to see the station.
The first thing I notice is the lack of scent as they take me around the main floor. Everything looks freshly cleanedand tidied, but there’s not even a hint of cleaning products, much less anything else. Buildings, and homes especially, have a scent unless they have a strong air filtering system. That must be the case here, because I can barely smell my teammates even when they’re right next to me.
I’m thankful for that attention to detail. Based on my reaction so far, I don’t want to imagine how overwhelming their scents would be without the filters.
The interior of the station is just as cozy as it appeared from the outside. The lower floor has a large living room filled with cushy couches and chairs arranged around a ginormous stone fireplace. The furniture is older, but it’s in good shape, well-worn and well-loved.
The kitchen is huge too, with lots of counter space and a big kitchen island. I’m starting to gather that everything here is big, which makes sense as the station was built to accommodate a team. This place is larger than most pack houses I’ve seen. Yet somehow the station feels homey despite the industrial pieces, the multiple fridges and freezers, wide ovens and stoves with multiple burners.
One side of the kitchen has a cute eating nook and a long wooden table with benches and chairs. The bay windows look out over the forest and the little glowing lights of the towns dotting the valley below.
The opposite end has a walk-in pantry. Henri says it’s not uncommon to get snowed in for weeks at a time, but that’s not a problem since they’re prepared for it. The pantry is full of shelf-stable food, cans and jars and huge buckets of things.
I carefully avoid stepping on the trapdoor that leads to the cellar. I’m sure it’s safe, but I avoid walking on any hole in the floor, just in case.
