Cabin Fever Page 3

  Paul nodded. “He said he’d be back later. Maybe.” The young man shook his head. He was looking more uncomfortable by the second.

  “I’m off for a hike if anyone is looking for me.” Speaking of squirming, I was starting to get hot standing in my outdoor gear in the warm lobby.

  “Enjoy.” Paul looked relieved as I walked away from the front desk, heading toward the extensive back balcony. It wasn’t unusual for any of us to hook up with other men on these trips, but this was the first time one of us had to leave a message with a hotel desk clerk.

  Cabot and his big-dicked bear were pushed out of my mind when I walked out onto the balcony of the hotel. It spanned half the length of the structure and was decorated with tables and sitting areas with couches and chairs.

  I caught my breath at the sight of the Presidential Range. Mount Washington, the highest peak in all of New England, was fully visible, which rarely happened. I pulled out my phone to snap a few shots and selfies. I loved the way the mountaintops were dusted with snow, but the hotel grounds were bare. It was definitely unusual to be this deep into the winter and not have snow on the ground.

  Heading for the back stairs, I felt the heat from lamps set up to allow the Presidential’s guests the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors in January. Couples were enjoying late breakfasts or reading the paper, while others stared off at the mountains. I’d try to talk the guys into having breakfast here in the morning. If Cabot wasn’t still AWOL with his new lover.

  I bounced down the stairs. I could hear neighing horses off in the distance. One of the Presidential Hotel’s big winter festivities was horse-drawn sleigh rides. Since there was no snow on the ground, that was out. At least for now.

  Shit! I hadn’t listened to the weather this morning. The blizzard of the century could be headed my way, and I’d have no idea it was coming. Looking up at the sky, all I could see was blue. It was a gorgeous morning. Obviously, there was no snow on the way.

  Several paths spread out from the tree line. Each one was named, and the difficulty of the hike was included. I chose the Adams Trail. It was listed as Easy. I was in good shape for an egghead who spent his days behind a desk, but wasn’t fit enough to handle an advanced trail, especially by myself.

  As I set out down the pine needle strewn path, I was angry at my friends for abandoning me in favor of a big dick and their hangovers. This trip was supposed to be a chance for us to reconnect, to feel like we did back in college. I supposed being five years post-grad was maybe pushing it a bit for trying to rekindle what life was like back then, but this was our tradition.

  I paused alongside a gurgling river. The sound of the rushing water soothed me. The riverbed was lined with enormous boulders, probably moved by glaciers during the last ice age. I was being selfish, thinking my friends needed to act and behave like me. This was their vacation too. Maybe we’d all get together for dinner tonight. I mentally promised that I would be kind to Mr. Big Dick if Cabot brought him along.

  Digging my phone out of my back pocket, I typed a group text asking if six p.m. would work for everyone. When I pressed the button to send, the message wouldn’t go through. I had no signal. “Fuck,” I whispered into the wind.

  It didn’t matter. I’d hike to the top of the trailhead, and then head back to the hotel for a hot shower and some lunch.

  Fallen leaves crunched under my boots. I took a deep breath of mountain air, noticing it had gotten colder since I’d left the hotel. I supposed it made sense, I was climbing a mountain. Sort of. Mount Washington’s elevation was a tad over six thousand feet. I wasn’t coming anywhere near that on my little ramble.

  An hour later, I was at the top of the trail. I was out of breath, which made visible puffs in front of my face. It was much colder now. Tiny snowflakes sifted through the trees. I looked straight up and noticed, for the first time, how dense the canopy was. Tree tops were covered in snow. Looking back down the trail, I was alarmed to see snow quickly blanketing it.

  I’d planned to spend some time sitting here, maybe taking some pictures, but I knew I needed to go, and now. My phone still didn’t have any service. I needed to get the hell out of there before the snow obscured the trail and I ended up falling off a cliff or getting eaten by a moose.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I’d have a hot lunch when I got back to the hotel. I’d seen prime rib on the menu when I checked it out online. A juicy cut of meat with a baked potato and chocolate cake would hit the spot.

  Climbing up the trail had been so much easier than going down. There was a definite slope to the ground, and I had to hold myself backward a bit to keep my forward momentum from pulling me into a tumble.

  Why hadn’t I noticed how steep this walk was on the way up? I slowed my steps as the snow continued to pile up around me. I needed to choose between safely descending the trail and the urgency of getting back to the hotel before the snow got worse. What had I been thinking, not checking the weather this morning?

  My life back home was always the same. Up early for my mile walk on the treadmill in my condo complex’s gym, in the office by seven at the latest, a quick homemade sandwich at my desk, and home again after dark. The only scenery I viewed were highway mile markers and the occasional bird. I’d been itching to get outside the minute I’d arrived here yesterday.

  In a flash, my right foot skidded, pitching me forward. Before I could pinwheel myself back to balance, I was falling. I hit the ground with a crash. Wet snow and leaves snowplowed against my face. I felt my body pick up momentum before slamming into an exposed tree root. I grabbed fruitlessly for it, and in doing so, flipped onto my back. I spread my arms and legs like I was doing a snow angel, hoping to slow my momentum. It didn’t help.

  I could hear the sound of the river getting louder as I continued to fall. The last thing I wanted was to end up in the ice-cold water or slam into a boulder. I flipped to my stomach and tried to grab for anything I could hold on to. I slammed hard against something solid and kept sliding toward a huge tree.

  Jesus Christ! Was this it? No one knew where I was. My phone had no signal. It was snowing to beat the band. With that last thought, I fetched up against the tree. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of me.

  My heart raced and my breathing was labored. I could wiggle all four limbs, but I knew my left ankle was sprained. Badly, by the feel of it. My head ached from where I’d banged it against something hard. I needed a plan on how to save myself, and I needed one quick. If only I didn’t feel so sleepy.

  The snow continued to fall. Faster. Harder. Heavier.

  4

  Kodi

  It had been a mostly quiet shift. People who lived in the Mount Washington Valley knew how to drive in the snow. They were also familiar with running to the grocery store the day before a storm to stock up on the essentials: bread, milk, and booze.

  I never understood why people felt the need to empty the bread shelves in the supermarket here in New Hampshire. I’d been through several blizzards in my four years here, and people weren’t usually trapped in their houses for much longer than the duration of the storm. I asked Bill about it once, and he told me it was a holdover from the Blizzard of ’78 where people hadn’t been able to get out of the house for days after the storm hit. New Englanders might be a hardy lot, but they also had long memories.

  The first thing I’d done when I’d gotten home was start a fire. The fireplace was made from smoothed river stones. Definitely the showpiece of the cabin. I’d stacked plenty of wood on the back porch last night, along with enough wood by the hearth to get through the night in case the power went out. I hadn’t gotten a generator yet. I knew it should have been the first thing on my list, living in the woods like this, but the fireplace provided all the heat and light I needed. If an outage were extended, I’d shower at work. Thankfully, the stove was gas, so all I needed to do was light the pilot and I could cook.

  After a quick shower, I stood in front of open cabinets, t
rying to decide what to make for dinner. Zeroing in on a can of beef stew, I was reaching for a saucepan when my phone started beeping. That couldn’t be good. I was off duty, but everyone was on call during snow events.

  I keyed my password and opened the message. [Missing hiker. Left Presidential Hotel AM. Last seen on hotel property. Tanner Reign. 5’7” Dark hair/eyes. Blue parka.]

  Shit! It was half past five, and it had been snowing since mid-morning. The chances of finding him in the middle of a blizzard weren’t good.

  [I’m on it.] I texted back quickly. I ran to the closet, pulling out my boots and heavy weather gear. I was about to start gearing up when a thought struck me. Shift.

  The most important thing was keeping my bear hidden. It would be disastrous for me if my secret were revealed. I’d already been banished from one place I’d thought of as home. The last thing I needed was to be kicked out of another.

  The Mount Washington Valley was expecting up to three feet of snow, according to the last estimate. If I were to shift in order to help find this hiker, the chances were good the still-falling snow would cover up my paw prints. According to the outside thermometer, it was fifteen degrees. I could hear the wind howling and knew with the windchill, it was even colder than that. This missing hiker was running out of time.

  Being caught was a chance I was going to have to take. I stripped and headed outside. The wind tore at my bare skin and stole my breath. I shifted and raced toward the woods. In this state, all of my senses were heightened. I would be able to smell this man long before I’d be able to see him.

  The snow was falling harder now than when I’d driven home from work. There was no doubt the quickly accumulating flakes would hide my tracks. I passed the property line from my cabin onto the land owned by the Presidential. According to the text, this Tanner person had last been seen heading toward the hiking trails. I had to choose which trail he might have decided to take.

  Being that the guy was out hiking hours before a blizzard was due to strike, I guessed that he’d chosen the Adams Trail. The Jefferson and Madison Trails were more difficult hikes, and I assumed this guy was just out for an easy walk.

  I pounded my way toward the trail, slowing down when I saw the depth of the snow covering it. I guessed the pack was a foot deep. I might be a bear, but I could just as easily fall and hurt myself on the snow and ice. How the hell would I explain my presence then? Or worse, explain why a game warden was out in a blizzard buck naked?

  Moving slowly up the trail, I was able to smell everything. A stash of squirrel nuts, deer scat, pine needles.

  Halfway to the top, I scented something different. Something human. I walked slowly, making sure to keep myself hidden in case the man was awake. Shit. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to do if the man was conscious. How the hell was I going to save him if he thought I was a man-eating bear? I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

  The scent got stronger. I knew I was getting close. A boot sticking out of the snow led me right to him. I knew instantly he was unconscious. I gave his boot a tug with my mouth, and he pulled free from the tree he’d been propped up against. I listened closely to his chest and heard him breathing. So far, so good.

  As gently as I could, I picked him up by the collar of his parka and dragged him down the trail, praying the entire way that he wouldn’t wake up and realize he was in the jaws of a bear. I ran as quickly as I could, all the while making sure Tanner was breathing.

  It struck me odd to know his name without him being introduced to me. He also smelled amazing, like pine mixed with a floral scent and something else I couldn’t quite put a paw on. Something primal stirred within my bear. I didn’t have time to think about it now. What mattered was getting Tanner home and assessing his injuries.

  The lights of the cabin came into view. Thank Christ. My jaw was beginning to ache from carrying Tanner. I carefully dragged him up the stairs of the cabin, dropping him in front of the front door near my clothes. I was about to shift back into human form when Tanner grabbed my left front paw.

  “Bear?” Tanner’s shaking hand reached up to my face. His fingers brushed over my fur before falling away. His eyes fluttered and slid shut again.

  Jesus Christ. That was close. I shifted quickly and pulled Tanner into the warm cabin. I took a few minutes to throw on jeans and a tee. When I turned back to Tanner, he was out cold. I started undressing him, feeling how cold his body was. My body tingled as I got his shirt off. He was slightly built, but in shape. My traitorous dick started expanding. I was one sick bear if the sight of an unconscious man gave me an erection.

  By the time I got his pants off, my dick was flying at full staff, uncomfortably tenting my jeans. I wanted to rearrange it but knew I wouldn’t let go once my hand was wrapped around my shaft. I ignored my raging hormones and turned my attention back to Tanner. His left ankle was badly swollen, maybe broken. He had dark bruises on his chest and left shoulder with scrapes on his face and hands. “You must have taken one hell of a fall.” My hands caressed the side of his face.

  After cleaning up his injuries, I wrapped him in a blanket and set him on the sofa closest to the blazing fire. Grabbing his pants, I rifled through them, hoping for a wallet or his phone. I hit paydirt on both counts.

  The driver’s license in the wallet identified him as Tanner Reign. The license was perfectly intact. I wasn’t interested in anything else inside. His phone hadn’t survived the fall. The screen had a jagged crack from left to right.

  I went for my phone, wanting to let dispatch know I’d found Tanner. Halfway to the counter, the lights blinked and went out. “Fuck,” I whispered. When I reached my phone, I saw there was less than two percent charge left. I typed a quick text and shot it off to Bill and dispatch. ‘No Signal’ flashed at the top of my screen. “Double fuck.”

  All I could do now was take care of Tanner and hope the snow let up soon.

  5

  Tanner

  I was burning in the fiery pits of hell. I was a man of science who’d never believed in heaven or hell. Maybe I was wrong.

  From the distance, I thought I heard a soft chuckle. I guessed Satan had a sense of humor. Wait! Was he going to fuck me up the ass? What kind of heat, no pun intended, would the prince of hell be packing?

  The chuckle grew louder, but there was no hint of darkness in the sound. It was deep and lyrical. Would Satan have a lyrical voice? I doubted it. Something cool landed on my forehead. I tried to bat at it with my hands, but I couldn’t move them. I struggled to free my arms from whatever was keeping me from moving. Was I handcuffed or bound? Satan was one kinky bastard.

  Instead of laughter, I heard singing. Someone was singing in a deep but off-key voice. I was confused. Wouldn’t all the best singers be in hell? Kurt Cobain. Elvis. Whitney? Landing here thanks to shit they’d done in life? Maybe I’d landed in the part of hell with people who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Christ, that was all I needed. An eternity spent with a bunch of caterwauling idiots.

  The laughter was closer this time. I was sure he knew he was a shit singer.

  Why was hell so infernally hot? Didn’t hell have air conditioning? This was the exact reason I could never live in Florida. The high temps would kill me.

  Oh… Well, since I was dead, I supposed moving to Florida wasn’t an option. I whimpered. I wanted to move to Florida now. The sun-lapped beaches and hopping night clubs. It could have been mine, but was now lost to me because I lost my stupid balance on a hiking trail I never had any business being on in the first place.

  “Tanner?” a gentle voice asked.

  Something shook my shoulder. Something gentle. Surely Satan wouldn’t be so kind. Would he? He’d have claws and skin the temperature of lava, with breath that smelled of dead things.

  “I’m not Satan,” the voice said, with a hint of laughter in it.

  “Minions,” I muttered. “I’m getting settled into hell by a minion.”

  “You’re not in hell. I promise.�
��

  A minion would say that very thing.

  “Open your eyes, Tanner, and see for yourself.”

  “I’m blind. Satan stole my eyes. Fucking Satan.” What does Satan need with my eyes? Can’t he make more? Or steal some from a serial killer?

  “I know it’s hard, Tanner, but try to open your eyes. I promise no one stole them.” The voice sounded giggly.

  “What the hell is so funny about my stolen eyeballs?” I demanded, trying with all my might to open my eyes. As fruitless as the attempt might have been, I felt my lids flutter. Christ, they felt like they were weighed down with stones. I took a breath and tried again. My eyes opened. “I’m not blind. Oh, Jesus, Satan didn’t steal my eyes. I’m in deep shit now.” I was in a semi-dark room with a strange man. Heat blasted the back of my head.

  “Tanner, you’re not in hell, and I’m not Satan.” A handsome man with dark eyes and hair said.

  “My bear.” My pounding heart rate slowed as my fear melted away. Okay, maybe I wasn’t in hell, but where was I, and who the fuck was the hottie?

  The strange man startled when I called him ‘my bear.’ He knew he was a bear. Christ, his chest was so broad I could use him as a surfboard. If I surfed. “I’m delirious. You’re furry.” I rested my hand against his arm. His crinkly hair tickled my fingertips.

  The large man nodded. “Yes, you are. It’s thanks to the fever.” He set a large hand against my face and frowned but made no mention of how furry he was.

  “Who are you?” What I really wanted was to demand he put his hands back on me. For some bizarre reason, they felt like they belonged there.

  “Kodi Grimes. I work for New Hampshire Fish and Game. A call went out about a missing hiker, and I was the one who found you.”

  I grimaced. I had a shadowy memory of a rushing river with large boulders. My eyes met Kodi’s. I was more confused than ever. “It’s so damn hot in here.” I fought against the blanket wrapped tightly around me, finally managing to free my arms.