Frigid Affair (2 page)

The decision was a no-brainer. I had to get out of there.

Chapter 2

When the estate
was finally closed, I took the remainder of the money from the life insurance and bought a piece of property in Alaska. Yep, as far north as the United States would allow.

Moving there wasn’t a difficult decision. It wasn’t like I woke up one morning with an epiphany. I’d been interested in the state since we’d visited years back, and researched the laws and areas, even before my family was killed. Back then I’d done it as a joke, teasing my parents that I was going to up and leave one day without notice.

I knew I was going to move to Alaska, I just wasn’t exactly sure where, so I planned a trip there to see if I’d be able to manage on my own.

I fell in love, and shortly after the financial aspects of my parents’ estate were transferred to me, I was picking out where I wanted to spend the rest of my life – on forty acres of wilderness atop a mountain, a picturesque landscape.

It was a new beginning; a way for me to bury all the pain and excruciating facts I’d never be able to change.

My little cabin I had built was enough space for me. It was a total of seven hundred square feet. In the center of the A-framed home was a woodstove. The loft where I slept was right above it, making for very cozy nights. I had steps built that also had drawers inside for storage. The kitchen was open to the main living area and a table sat in between.

I chose to live in a remote location; somewhere I didn’t have to explain my past, or dwell on things I’d never be able to change. I didn’t have electricity, but relied on solar panels and a generator only when I needed to use it. For the most part, I lived on battery-operated devices, in and out of the bedroom. I had push lights all around the cabin, and only used the electricity at night when needed to shower or take hot baths for long periods of time.

It sounds like it would be hard to transition, but I enjoyed the challenge. I also appreciated not having utility bills.

I happened to believe someday I’d find a man to share my life with. In earlier years I’d been promiscuous, getting a lot of experience before I knew how to appreciate it. I knew I’d be giving up my social life – my nights of familiar hook-ups, and most importantly my ability to date. For now, I was content, and if some mountain man happened upon me in the woods, maybe we could make lumberjack babies and live happily ever after. Until then, I had my Great Pyrenees, Ava to keep me company.

A girl can have aspirations.

Modern day amenities weren’t at my fingertips. High maintenance was no longer a word anyone would use for me. I had to make do with what I had at my disposal.

I was roughing it, living off the land, some would say.

If I wanted to heat something up, other than the neglected spot between my legs, I used the cooktop located on the woodstove. I’d keep large containers of water in the house that I’d collected during the day from the outside well pump. Since it was only me and the dog, we didn’t require much. I’d managed to figure out how much I’d need for showers, and even the dishes. It wasn’t as hard as it seems. People think they can’t survive without cell phones and television. After a while you stop missing those kind of pleasures. For the most part, I enjoyed reading.

A collection of my father’s favorite books lined one whole wall of the cabin, while the other side held my mother’s precious sugar bowls. Together they’d traveled all over the world to get them, and it was something I treasured being able to have. I spent a lot of my time lounging on my deck with a good story, even in cold weather. I found it invigorating to be bundled up and feel the chilled air smacking against my thick coat, in the winter, but also the bright sun when the temperatures finally melted the snow.

Another reason I’d moved to such a remote location was the wildlife, both to admire and hunt. My father had been an avid bow and rifle hunter. He’d taught me it wasn’t for sport. You only killed what you needed to eat. It was part of the food chain, and from where I was sitting, I definitely needed the protein to keep my body healthy.

He’d taken me on trips to hunt bigger game than small black bears and whitetail deer.

Before I sound like a lunatic, I want to say I had means to contact people. I owned a tablet, and believe it or not, had a mobile hotspot to get internet. I used it once a week to check emails, pay bills, and read the local news. I had a cell phone I never kept on except for emergencies, which hadn’t been any since I’d moved, and also to contact the local airport when I needed a ride to a larger town. I had a four-wheeler to get me to and from, and to help haul any animals I’d hunted. When the lake froze over I used my snowmobile to ride across it, and sometimes to get to good ice-fishing spots.

I was a self-made tomboy; raised to love the land, and live with little means, all except for one important luxury. I had the contractor install a small bathroom inside my house. I ordered a special toilet that was self contained, and could easily be emptied to make compost without a disgusting mess.
See that – I’m giving back to nature.

For a shower, I’d also purchased a contraption that held water in a containment tank. It sprinkled water over my head when I released a valve. Part of it fed off the solar panels on my roof; another reason I’d built an A-frame, so the snow wouldn’t be able to stay on it.

The contractor tiled the bathroom area for me, putting a drain in the floor. I’d heat my shower water on the stove and add it to the containment system. It was pretty simple, and would never need major repairs. Too add a little excitement, I had a tub put in – the type you’d see on a western movie where they fill it with buckets. It was copper and made me feel fancy in my little neck of the woods. I washed my laundry by hand in that tub, and hung it to dry over the stove, or outside when the weather allowed it.

Yes, I showered everyday, and occasionally styled my hair, when I felt bored and got a bug up my ass.

Under my home was something many Alaskans used to store their food. Since most of the state only gets to a certain temperature underground, basements are used as built in food storage. I’d hunt with locals for my meat while the weather was warm, grow vegetables and even a few fruits, and then stored everything over the cold months. So far, this being my fourth year, I hadn’t had to venture out to a town for anything during the winter.

I made one big trip each spring to gather powdered milk, canned items, and other necessities. Since it was only me, and Ava, short for Avalanche, we didn’t need much. I fed her a diet of proteins and vegetables, mixed with dried food to add starch. Many serious breeders feed their prize dogs the same thing, and according to my vet, she was extremely healthy. It didn’t hurt how much she loved the cold weather, being bred in the mountains and able to withstand snowy frigid conditions.

I sound horribly boring, I know it.

My life might seem dreary to some, but I was happy. I had enough money in the bank to last me for the rest of my days, because of my low maintenance lifestyle. Serenity for me was sitting out on my porch and watching two brown bears wrestling in the water just beyond the backyard. I’d taught Ava not to bark at them, since she had a habit of scaring them away.

Some might question if I wanted a man to cuddle up with at night. Sure, I would have loved to have someone to share my days with, but I didn’t see it happening. Aside from deliveries on occasion, I didn’t have anyone stopping by. I hadn’t taken the time to make friends in town either. My closest neighbors were only there for the summers. I could see their cabin from mine, but it was almost a half-mile away, and down the mountain. Bob and Eve were good people. They lived in Florida in the winter months. I kept promising to visit them, but managing someone to care for my dog, and my home while I was gone was pretty hard. It wasn’t like I could phone a friend.

I mentioned earlier how much I relied on batteries. You can imagine my arsenal I’d collected in my bedside table.

To be honest, I was completely okay with staying alone. I wasn’t sick, or suffering from social anxiety disorder. I just preferred living remotely, growing my own foods, and living within my means. I’d never felt healthier. In fact, I’d lost weight and was down to the same size as when I graduated high school. I had energy, and enjoyed long walks, where I used to struggle making it up a flight of stairs. My hair had grown down my back. Each morning, while sitting out on my deck I’d braid it to the side to keep it out of my face. I didn’t have to wear makeup. There was no one around to impress – except my occasional postal worker, and that wasn’t happening. In my opinion, this was the way life should be, not the hassle everyone else makes it.

Usually it was serene.

One night would change it all, whether I was prepared for it or not.

Chapter 3

I never could
have predicted the events that led to me meeting him, or what would happen when we were forced to spend the night together.

It was past midnight. Ava’s barking woke me out of a peaceful sleep. I couldn’t be certain, but I swore I could smell something burning even from inside my cabin, and I’m not speaking of the scent a woodstove puts off. It smelled like burnt plastic, or rubber. I crawled over to the window and looked out on one side, seeing nothing but snow falling in the darkness. When I traveled to the opposite end of the house, I stood in shock. Something was on fire down the mountain and the flames were out of control. I darted for the loft stairs, hurrying to get downstairs and assess where exactly the fire was, though I feared I already knew the answer.

It took about five minutes to put on my heavy snow gear and locate the keys for the snow mobile. Once outside, I rushed to the shed to get it out, so I could make my way down the mountain. Ava followed behind, not that I was surprised. She never left my side.

I pushed the pedal as far as I could and made my way closer to the blaze. As we approached the scene, I realized it was the attached garage to my neighbor’s house. Frantically, I searched the yard for some way to extinguish the blaze. With no other neighbors for miles, I ran inside the house to locate the landline phone they always kept on. Since they were lower on the mountain, they’d been able to get electricity and running water. The kitchen was located too close to the fire, so I went for the back door leading to their bedroom, locating the key in the electric panel for emergencies such as this.

The house was filled with smoke. I began choking the moment I stepped inside, using my scarf to mask it from going into my lungs. Desperately, I prayed the line was still working.

Calling for help wasn’t like back in Pennsylvania. I knew crews wouldn’t be pulling up with a truck to put out the blaze.

Once I’d reached the operator, and gave her the location, I hung up and awaited a plane that would drop water on the property, mostly to keep it from spreading. I knew it wouldn’t reach the woods behind it. Everything was wet or frozen. It was still snowing, but not as heavily as earlier.

During the cold months my neighbors winterized their property, meaning the pipes had been treated to prevent lines from freezing. It meant I couldn’t grab a hose and start putting out the blaze. The water shut-off valve was located in the garage, so I’d be unable to get to it. Panic swept through me. I didn’t know what to do. Quickly, before I couldn’t stand to be inside any longer, I rang my friends to let them know there was an emergency, just in case I didn’t have cell service from the snowstorm.

Sadly, all I could do was stand outside the house and watch the fire spread to the main quarters. My heart broke for all the love and time the nice couple had put into making it beautiful.