The Stroke of Winter(21)

With the northern lights sending shafts of greens and blues and purples into the sky on winter’s nights, the purple sunset on the horizon at twilight, and the different colors of the lake, no wonder her grandfather had been inspired by this place. It was an artist’s canvas.

“You grew up in the Twin Cities, right?” Wyatt said, breaking the silence.

Tess nodded. “I did. But I came to Wharton to visit my grandmother during the summers.”

“Serena Bell,” Wyatt said. “What a great lady.”

Tess raised her eyebrows. “You knew her?”

Wyatt nodded. “I grew up here in Wharton,” he said, looking out over the frozen lake. “My dad was a wilderness guide. He took people on kayaking trips throughout the Redemption Islands. I guess that’s how I caught the bug to do it myself.”

“Oh, that’s what you do for a living? A guide? When you’re not helping people turn on their heat?”

He chuckled at this. “In the summers, yes,” he said. “I usually take three or four trips every summer, leading people from island to island, just like my dad did.”

A wilderness guide. It seemed to suit him. But she had the feeling there was more to the story. With people in Wharton, it seemed there was always more to the story.

“So, how did you know my grandma?”

“I’d known of her around town, of course, but we really got to know each other when I was helping out on one of my dad’s trips,” he said, his eyes shining. “I was just out of high school at the time, so that’s how long ago it was. She organized it. A group of senior women.” He laughed, remembering. “We camped for four nights. It was a hoot. I would’ve pitied the bear who might have wandered into their campsite. Thank goodness the bears had the wisdom to stay away.”

Tess looked at this man with new eyes.

“I had no idea,” she said. “My grandma knew how to kayak?”

“She was a champ.”

It made Tess wonder what else she didn’t know about Serena.

They turned from the lake, then, and headed back up toward the house. “Feel like dinner?” Tess asked, without even thinking about it. “I could throw together a pasta dish with what I have on hand . . . ?”

All at once, Tess felt her face redden. Why had she blurted that out? What was she thinking? The man probably had someone to go home to. Obviously he did. Why had she been so forward? She winced a bit at what she thought might have been an awkward gaffe. The last thing she wanted was uncomfortable feelings between her and someone who was helping her with the house.

“I’m sorry—” she started.

“Pasta sounds great,” he said, dispelling her fears in an instant. “I’d love that.”

Tess smiled to herself. So it wasn’t so inappropriate after all.

As they walked back up the hill toward the house, Tess eyed the man at her side. What did she know about him, really? Jim had recommended him to fix her heat, so there was that. He was handy around old houses. He had a dog, or dogs, she remembered, and was good with Storm. And now she learned he was a wilderness guide in the summers and, she assumed, an expert kayaker. You’d have to be to take groups into Lake Superior’s unpredictable open water. And, he knew her grandmother. That was enough to have dinner with a man, wasn’t it?

She wondered what else she might discover about Wyatt. And all at once, she realized she was eager to find out.





CHAPTER NINE



Back in her warm kitchen, Tess grabbed some pasta out of the cabinet and peered into the fridge to see what she had on hand. A couple of chicken breasts, Parmesan cheese, coconut milk. A half-full pack of bacon. Some fresh basil. Spinach in the crisper. Onions and tomatoes on the countertop.

“How about CBST pasta?” she asked.

“CBST?” Wyatt asked.

“Chicken, bacon, spinach, and tomato,” Tess said, smiling.

It was one of Tess’s go-to dishes, a fun twist on fettuccini Alfredo, without the heavy cream. After setting the pasta water on to boil, Tess cooked the bacon in the bottom of a heavy Dutch oven until it was crispy, and put it aside, reserving some of the drippings in the pot. To that, she added onion and garlic and, after sautéing for a few minutes, the chicken. After the chicken was nearly done, it was time for the tomatoes and spinach.

In that same pot, she scooched all the items to the side, added some olive oil and butter, and a bit more garlic. Once that was hot, she sprinkled in three tablespoons of flour. She stirred it around until it made a thick roux, and added a few cups of coconut milk, stirring until it all thickened up, scooping the chicken mixture into the fray. She finished it with the Parmesan, which melted around everything and created a cheesy goodness.

After she added the cooked pasta to the mix, she crumbled the bacon on top.

While Tess was busy at the stove, Wyatt put another couple of logs on the kitchen fire and poured drinks.

She served up the pasta, and they settled down at the table. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she had cooked dinner for a man other than her ex-husband. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been on a date. Was this a date? Was that what this was? No, she concluded. It wasn’t a date. Tess eyed Wyatt across the table.

“This looks awesome,” Wyatt said, oblivious to her wonderings.