“Nah, we got it,” Chaz said, sliding his arm around my waist.
George grabbed a key from behind the reception desk. He moved with a lumbering kind of grace that put me in mind of a large predator, one that was deceptively slow until provoked.
“Come on, I’ll show you guys back.”
Chaz’s grip tightened on me as we followed George’s lead. He led us across the lobby and through a hall, past a dining area with an enormous bar, where a bunch of guys on stools watched football on the big screen TV with rapt attention. Other people were scattered at round tables throughout the room, relaxing and talking or brooding over cold beers. A couple of girls gave me, then Chaz, an odd look I couldn’t read, before starting up a chattering storm of whispers. The disparity in attitudes between various Sunstrikers toward me was getting to be a bit much, and I was grateful once the people in that room were out of sight.
We walked through a set of double doors as large as the ones at the entrance that led into a little meadow in the back of the building. The strong scent of herbs—rosemary, basil, peppermint, and lemongrass—clued me in that at least part of this area was a garden. I could also hear the faint rush of running water from somewhere up ahead of us. After the warmth of the lodge, it was freezing out here.
“Watch your step. We had rain a couple days ago, and the path to the bridge is still a bit muddy.”
I was glad I’d remembered to wear hiking boots instead of my usual sneakers, but even with the extra traction I was slipping and sliding a little in the mud. Chaz tried to help me, but he wasn’t faring much better. By the time we reached the small wooden bridge that arched over a creek separating the cabins from the lodge, we were laughing and leaning on each other to get safely to the other side. A hand-carved sign on the other side of the creek, leaning at an angle in the mud, showed which fork to take for which cabin numbers.
The cabins were far enough apart for privacy, with heavy pines and cedars, thick with concealing foliage, separating the buildings. It was hard to tell by the landscaping if the trees had been planted or grew that way naturally since the log cabins faded into the foliage like a natural part of the scenery. The solar-powered lanterns in the ground helped light the path without being intrusive or detracting from the raw beauty of the place. The soft glow only made it more inviting and romantic.
George unlocked the cabin with the number twelve etched into the wooden door. He flicked the light on and handed the key over to Chaz, gesturing back toward the lodge. “If you need anything, just give us a ring up there. You’ll find extra blankets in the closet and a few dry goods and coffee in the kitchen. Breakfast is served in the dining hall six-thirty through ten-thirty; lunch is at noon; and dinner is served from five-thirty until my mom decides to kick you out and close the kitchen. She’ll be up late tonight since so many of you came in, but I wouldn’t trust her to hang around for more than another hour.”
“Great! Thanks, George,” I said, giving him a warm smile.
“Anytime, pretty lady.” He winked. “Just call if you need anything.”
Chaz rolled his eyes and carried everything inside. I followed him in, George closing the door behind me.
The place was cozy, just as inviting on the inside as it appeared from the outside. The furniture here matched the furniture in the lodge; the frames were all done in wood and the cushions and blankets in earth tones. The fireplace had soot stains but had been cleared of old ashes. New wood was laid out and a box of matches set on the mantel. The breakfast nook had a couple of modern amenities like a refrigerator and a coffeemaker. A round table was set next to the window with bleached white birch chairs around it, and a large bed with a mound of pillows and thick quilts was tucked in the corner across from the hearth.
It was perfect.
I started putting our things away in the drawers and closet while Chaz got a fire going in the hearth. Before long, light and warmth spilled into the tiny,