5. GUEST STEW

JULIET, GUEST STEW

When Quent radios me we have unexpected guests, I quickly dress and get the girls ready to go back to the lodge. I’m blessed with two heavy sleepers – once they’re asleep they’re generally good for the night and even dressing them for outside and travelling back to the lodge doesn’t wake either of them. I settle them in my office in a playpen and take the baby monitor with me to the kitchen to whip something together – enough to feed us plus the additional guests.

We always have plenty of venison on hand thanks to the hunters so I quickly put together a hearty stew with potatoes, carrots, peas, corn and celery. I prep the diced deer and combine it all together and get it simmering in less than an hour, along with four dozen buns in the oven – thank God for pre-frozen. With the rest of the veggies, sans potatoes, I toss together with some mixed greens for a salad and in less than two hours dinner is on the table. Nothing fancy but hearty and filling – just what every belly needs on a chilly, windy night.

I place everything on the already set table and then ring the dinner bell. Confident this will let everyone know that dinner is ready, I leave to check on the babies before sitting down to enjoy dinner myself. I pass Quentin in the hallway and make him promise to save me some food and he jokingly agrees he will and I close myself in my office where I find one sleeping baby and one about to throw a fit.

Picking Bridget up, I nestle her close and inhale her wonderful scent deeply – nothing like the smell of a baby. Lifting my shirt, I undo my nursing bra and release a breast for her and she immediately latches on, wasting no time getting her fill. I love this time with my babies, especially when it is just me with one of them individually since it is rare and special. It always brings tears to my eyes, knowing how close Markus came to seeing his beautiful girls and how cheated our daughters are going to be – never knowing what an amazing man their father was. Markus was a good man who was taken from us far too soon… it is so unfair.

I’m grateful that both girls look like him – tiny replicas. Both girls have his dark, brown hair and chocolate brown eyes so every time I look at either of my daughters, I see their father.

Every.

Single.

Time.

It is the best punishment ever – or the cruelest reward? I’m not sure how to describe it but I think of him when I see our girls and it both fills me with joy as well as pain. I hope, in time, the pain will lessen but right now, the chances of that seem so remote as to be unlikely.

Bridget gets her fill and I lift her to my shoulder for her burp, which she does promptly. I tuck my breast away then move to the floor with her to change her diaper before rocking her back to sleep. It isn’t long before her sister is awake and I repeat the entire process all over again.

By the time I make it to the diningroom, everyone is gone but there is a bowl of stew waiting for me along with two buns – Quentin came through. They must have enjoyed the stew since the rest looks to be gone – this is the last of it. I warm it up on the stove quickly then take the window seat in the corner of the diningroom to watch the encroaching storm. The winds have picked up and there are small snowflakes starting to fly back and forth – looks like it is a good thing the guests stayed after all.

I finish eating quickly then head to my office to redress the girls and myself. The walk isn’t far or long but by the time I make it to my cabin, my hands are freezing from holding the carrier handles in the wind. By the time I cross the threshold into my cabin there is a skiff of snow already settled across it with more accumulating quickly. I get us inside and get everything secure – I have a strong suspicion we won’t be leaving tomorrow. If this keeps up, it is possible we’ll be snowed in for a day or two. Thanks to Quentin’s forethought and experience we’re prepared and will manage simply fine; all we can do is hunker down and wait it out.

Hopefully, everyone at the lodge is doing okay too.

LUKE, GOOD STEW

Supper was fucking amazing – by far the best stew I’ve ever had and that’s saying something, my Mom was a great cook. I enjoyed all of it and looked forward to meeting the chef but she never made it to the meal. I can’t believe Quent finally managed to get a woman working up here finally, none of us ever thought we’d see the day. It’s so remote and rugged up, none of the women who have come have ever stayed long-term – they’ve all just been guests. All Quent told us about her is she’s a Mom – real helpful. I’m envisioning a woman in her fifties with grey hair and wrinkles, but with this storm moving in, I don’t know if I’ll even get to find out.

The storm rages all night, howling and screaming like a banshee and drops several inches of snow on the ground. For safety, everyone in the cabins stay in place while those of us in the lodge start digging our way to them – it is likely going to take a day or two to get everyone dug out but we’re all used to it. Big storms like this one come along at least once a season, we just don’t normally start the season with one.

Three of the staff are in cabins, the closest of which is Quentin so we head for him first. Even with equipment the digging is slow-going and were it just us shifters, we would shift and plow our way through but there are other humans here so we can’t. So instead, one step at a time we get it done and seven hours later we make it to Quentin’s door – just in time to call it a day. Quent joins us for a slap-together dinner before everyone retires for an early evening, exhausted from the day’s activities.

The next morning dawns bright, clear and cold. Our being bear shifters helps a lot against the chill but it doesn’t make us immune to the nasty parts of winter – like frostbite so we work in shifts, heading to the next cabin in the row. Going cross-country from Quent’s front porch we make it to the second cabin in half a day, digging out another one of the groundsmen before turning our attentions to the final, isolated cabin – the one housing the infamous single female staff member.

We’re close to her porch when I head inside, my digging shift ending. I can barely feel my fingers so some hot chocolate—

“With marshmallows!” ‘Chase’ interrupts, reminding me of his taste preference. Considering the thousands of cups of hot chocolate I’ve drank over my twenty-six years – I think I’d remember! Jesus! And yes, of course there’ll be marshmallows – it isn’t real hot chocolate without it, I sulk.

About forty-five minutes later while I’m sipping my hot chocolate with marshmallows, I hear the rest of the group arrive. There is a female voice in the crowd so I know they were successful digging the last person out, which is great news.

”Holy shit! Do you smell that? Raspberrrrrriiiieeeessssss…” ‘Chase’ goes into a mindless drool, not that I’m much better as we both inhale deeply the rich, mind-altering aroma of raspberries. ”Fresh raspberries – I smell fresh raspberries!” ‘Chase’ begins to dance – as much as a bear can dance, in his excitement over this new, intoxicating aroma. It is definitely not the right time of year for our favourite food so unless someone was hiding a stash somewhere—

“The girls did great, I even got in some naps,” the female voice jokes as it gets louder, entering the room I’m in. I hear some of the guys laugh and comment about ‘the girls’, ‘so cute’ and ‘so good’ all of which adds to my intrigue over the mysterious female.

Looks like I’m finally about to meet her.