“You really don’t have to do that. I’ve got a little money in my savings and I’ve got my severance.”
“Absolutely not." She says, waving her hand to blow off such a ludicrous idea. I can't help but smile. "You save that money for your future.”
I don’t bother arguing because it’ll do no good. She at least lets me pay for lunch, reluctantly of course. After walking with her to her car, I walk back to my apartment feeling slightly less bound with stress and uncertainty. As I unlock the door to get in my building the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I quickly glance around, looking for what might have brought on the anxious feelings, but I find the hall is completely empty.
“I’m losing it,” I whisper, and laugh at myself. Obviously, I needed to get away more than I thought. This city is making me antsy and suspicious.
Nervous anticipation fills me as I fly down I-90 out of Bozeman and toward Stone Ridge and my temporary home for however long it takes me to figure out what I want out of life. Before I came, I checked the forecast and it’s getting colder, which means it could basically start snowing anytime now.
My dad had the man he knew from town make sure I was stocked with all my favorite food and drinks. That mixed with all the items he believed I'd need as well. I have no doubt that I am stocked to the brim with enough supplies to last a month without stepping foot outside. Getting snowed in was their fear for me, but to be honest I’d welcome it. When I was younger, I remember lying in front of the fireplace while reading my favorite books, my mom’s old Sweet Valley High collection.
The GPS tells me the road to Stone Ridge is up ahead. It’s tucked between lots of trees and if you’re not looking, you can almost miss it. I can’t believe there isn’t a sign or anything that tells you where to turn. The road is narrow and seems to go on forever before I spot the cabin up ahead tucked in its own little cove.
My heart begins to race, and my palms sweat as I pull up next to the cabin. I smile when I see a huge stack of wood, cut and ready to go next to the front door. My father thought of everything. When I walk up the steps to the front door, I feel a sense of deja vu. I look toward the opening of the forest and see nothing but that same sense of belonging was there.
I pull the key that my dad gave me out of my purse and use it to open the door. The moment I step inside I’m hit with a barrage of memories, but this time my wolf and Merick are both intertwined with them. One vision in particular flows through my mind. Snow so deep that with each step my boots were buried to the hilt. The morning after the big snowfall I bundled up so my father and I could build the world’s largest snowman and fort. It was a perfect day.
My vision shifts and I see my wolf standing at the mouth of the forest watching us, watching me.
My mind was jumbled with an array of thoughts, more visions than memories because most of what I was seeing had never even happened before.
I turn back to the cabin, choosing to ignore my confusion and step inside. “Wow,” I whisper. It’s prettier than I remember. The scent of lemon hangs in the air. The floors, walls, and ceilings are all light pine...I think. The sectional sofa is taupe with big decorative pillows in blues and reds. There is an end table on each side and a small table and chair for dining behind it.
A chaise lounge is right in front of the big bay window overlooking the mountains beyond the trees. I move further into the cabin and find the kitchen stocked as well as the pantry. I’ve got enough food here to feed a small army. I run my hand over the granite countertop, remembering all the times my mother would use it to roll out pie crusts during her many baking sessions. I can almost smell the sweet scent that would filter throughout all the rooms.
Walking down the hall to the master bedroom I take in the queen-sized bed that sits in the middle of two large windows. The headboard is what looks like brushed copper. I am pleased to find the thick down comforter and I’m anticipating many cold nights cuddling up in it.
The large bath off my parents’ room has a glass shower with tile on the floor and a wood wall where the showerhead comes out. The bathtub is new or at least new from the last time I was here. It’s huge, big enough for multiple people.
I head back outside to my rental and grab my suitcase and carryon bag and drag them into the house. After I get everything unpacked, I head out to grab some wood to have ready for a fire. Once that’s all done, I find a note stuck to the refrigerator from John, the caretaker, basically telling me everything is ready to use, and don’t forget to open the flew when I start a fire. He also left his number in case I needed to reach him at all.
I pull out my phone and see I have only one bar. I send Lily and my parents texts letting them know I arrived. My bestie wanted to come, to keep me company, but if I’m going to get any clarity, I need to be alone. She understood, or so she said, and made me promise I’d call her if I needed her.
In
