"Now that I'm out here, I can kind of see the appeal, but," she paused, turning so her back was against the railing, and she could face me easier, "you could have waited ‘til July." I laughed a little.
"No, seriously. How is everything back at work?"
"It's okay," she said lightly, looking into her coffee.
"Really?" I asked. She shrugged.
"You said it yourself, Brett knows what he's doing, and he's been getting along pretty well since you left." Huh, I thought. Seeing her, I had thought there had to have been an emergency or at least a problem. We had been talking a little while now, and she hadn't said anything about the company until I asked. In the past, talking to her, she'd never really had a problem getting her point across. I didn't know whether to take her word for it or not.
"Hm," I said. "I know I asked why Brett had sent you here to do his dirty work, but looks like I was wrong. You just missed me."
She scoffed, looking over at me. "Try again," she said. "Brett said he hasn't been able to get in touch with you at all."
"Yeah, well…" I trailed off.
"Do I have to tell the poor guy you've just been ignoring him?"
"I haven't been ignoring anybody," I said. "I left my phone in Salt Lake. Didn't need it anymore."
"So you haven't read the news at all, talked to anyone, gone online since you left?"
"Nope." And it had been great.
"Then you don't know that there's a snowstorm forecasted to come through here this weekend." A what? I frowned. She was right that I hadn't had any contact with anyone for several days. That had been the point of leaving the phone behind, but then actually talking to people wasn’t even the primary use of mobile phones anymore, was it? I hadn't looked at the weather forecast. There was a thermometer anchored to the wall in the house by the door that told me the temperature inside and outside; that was all I had by way of the weather forecast.
"Huh," I said, "well, now I do."
"More than two feet of snow is expected to come down Saturday." I had prepared as much as I had thought that I'd needed to before coming here, but again and again, something would happen to remind me I had not done enough. It was a learning curve, and I could accept that, but I had left my phone behind, confident that I wouldn't want to talk to anyone. I had books, but those didn't forecast the weather.
"That sounds...cold."
"Unless you have a snowmobile or ATV, the road back to town is going to be impossible to use for at least a few days." A snowmobile. That sounded handy. How did she know that though? How experienced was she with mountain trails anyway?
"So what are you saying?"
"If you plan on feeding yourself and not freezing to death, you need to get out to the nearest town now and stock up." Alright; the point, finally. The reason why Brett sent her up here. She was right, kind of. I hadn't known about the storm. I was glad she told me. I'd probably be chopping and moving wood for the rest of the day now.
"No. I think I have everything I need. I’ll probably be swinging that ax nonstop ‘til it rolls in but I think I have everything."
"You think? You won't be thinking very much when you're stuck out here with no way to contact anyone, and you're down to your last can of pork and beans." I laughed a little. I had about enough food to last a few days without heading to the town. Once I had enough wood, it didn't matter how long I'd have to stay put. I looked at her, noticing her cup was empty.
"Want to go back inside?" I offered.
"The weather at this elevation is tricky. Major snowfall can take days, even weeks to clear." I closed the door behind her. "If you don't have enough supplies and no way to contact anyone, you'll be stranded."
"Thanks for telling me."
"Cameron," she said. She was frowning like she had expected me to say I'd go find a hotel or something for the next few days instead of staying here.
"Natalie?"
"You're not listening to me."
"I am. Thank you for telling me about the storm, okay? But if you thought it was going to scare me back into the city, then you were wrong. I can take care of myself. If I had had any doubts, the last week out here alone has shown me that I can take a snowstorm. Alright? Don't worry about me." I took her mug and walked both of them to the sink.
"You're crazy," she said, crossing her arms. I laughed. That might have been the first totally unfiltered thing she had ever said to me.
"Anytime you feel like making the drive, you come up here, okay?"