Dylan groaned behind me. Then moved closer and hugged me from behind, his chin on my shoulder. “Now I’m starving for those strawberries.”
I chuckled. “Me, too. Want to eat them on the couch and just enjoy the view?”
He kissed my cheek, his hands moving inside my sweater to palm my stomach. “That sounds lovely.”
We sat and watched the snow-covered trees, wondering aloud about the distance of the forest and how vast it was. It sadly wasn’t snowing, but it had snowed during the night, making the area covered in fresh snow.
“Imagine if we see animal footprints outside in the mornings,” I gushed, already looking forward to morning cocoa and a nice walk around the cabins.
Dylan smiled at me. “It’s nice seeing you this happy again.”
I all but melted. “It’s thanks to you, Dyl. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this. Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” he whispered, then kissed my lips softly. “I’ll make you some hot cocoa and then I’ll go buy food for tonight and for our breakfast. You stay here and rest.”
I shook my head. “You can’t carry all of that with your stitches. I don’t mind going, and we can always warm up with some cocoa afterwards.”
He just smiled. “I have my backpack I can use. No strain on my hands, I promise.”
I squinted my eyes at him. “Are you trying to get away from me?” I teased.
He just winked and went to kiss my cheek, but once he’d kissed me, he whispered, “I’m trying to give you a chance to talk with the ghost. Perhaps you can help.” He then rose to stand. “But I don’t mind you joining me if you prefer that.”
Smiling at him, I shook my head. “I think I’ll stay here. Just promise not to pull your stitches.”
Dylan gave me a fond smile. “I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mike
With Dylan now facing the cold weather alone, I turned on the couch to face Jørgen. “Have you been here long?” I asked, figuring that was the politest way of asking how long he’d been dead.
He slowly turned his head in my direction, a pained smile on his face. “I do not know. I feel like it’s been forever, but it could merely have been a few years.”
Looking at his pajamas gave me no indication on how long ago he’d died. Could be a hundred years for all I knew. It was an off-white color with blue stripes down the fabric, something that could still be worn to this day.
“Why haven’t you left yet?” I asked, noticing how his shoulders stiffened.
“That’s private,” he whispered, not meeting my gaze.
“I respect that,” I said, hating how dejected he looked. “But how often do you get to talk to others around here? It might help talking to me, especially since I will only be here for a week.”
That seemed to make a difference, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes widened. “Perhaps, you’re right. Very well.” He sat up straighter and gestured for me to join him at the table. I did so, walking casually so as to not spook the man. I waited for him to begin, giving him the time he needed, even though I knew Dylan would likely only be gone for an hour at most, unless he tried to stay away for longer.
“My wife, Marianne, died in an avalanche here while we were on vacation.”
I swallowed my gasp. I hadn’t expected this sort of conversation, but maybe Jørgen needed to tell me this before he told me about his own death.
“We weren’t skiing, but hiking through the woods. I’d read on a sign that we should stay on the path, but Marianne spotted a snow fox and wanted to follow it. I couldn’t deny her. The way her eyes shone as she darted forward, intent on seeing more of the beautiful creature. I was smiling behind her, absolutely besotted with herbeauty as the white snow around us painted her cheeks in the most gorgeous red blush.”
I could clearly see it in front of me, and I hated that such a wonderful memory would soon turn deadly.
He cleared his throat, working up for the next part. “She’d just turned thirty and I’d spent our savings on the trip, moving into this very cabin that was newly built that year. We’d only been here for three days when we ventured further out than ever before, following that damn fox.” He sighed. “The fox got away from us, so she followed its footsteps. We soon lost track of where we were and tried to find our way back, following our own tracks. Sadly, it began to snow and soon we couldn’t see our marks in the snow.”
I could only nod, even though he’d never looked at me, intent on staring outside at the snow as he recalled the moment he lost his wife.
“I felt a small tremor where we walked, thinking it was the cold that was getting to me, but then I turned and saw the snow falling down the hill, racing towards us. An avalanche. I had no training in what to do in that situation, so I grabbed my wife’s hand and ran for it, trying to break into the trees for some cover. We were soon coveredin snow, but I managed to climb free having way less snow over my body. I tried finding her, but couldn’t. I kept looking for what felt like hours before a man came sledding down, searching for me and Marianne. They’d known the avalanche had hit and went to check on all the cabins, finding ours empty. He used a radio to call for help, but it was too late. Marianne was found frozen to death two hours later.”
