Tess pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, popped into the bathroom to splash some water on her face and brush her teeth and hair, and made her way downstairs to the hall closet to hunt around for her boots. Absentmindedly, she flipped on the hallway light—it worked! The power must’ve come back on sometime while she was sleeping.
She fished her mukluks from the back of the closet and pulled on the boots, which were crafted out of moose hide with a technique perfected by the Ojibwe—the Indigenous peoples of the area—centuries ago and still used to this day. The boots were as comfortable as slippers and warmer than anything modern people could concoct. They were the boot of choice for most everyone in Wharton and along Lake Superior’s North Shore, and could be found in any number of boutiques in the area. She shrugged on her parka and opened her front door.
Icy cold hit Tess square in the face, tingling and almost burning her skin, taking her breath away. She zipped up her parka, rooted around in the pockets for her mittens, and trudged through the snow on her front porch to where she knew the stairs were. There had to be two feet of new snow, and it had drifted all the way up onto the porch. She wasn’t certain where the sidewalk to the driveway was, nor was she sure she even had a shovel in the garage. She stood there, looking around aimlessly, not knowing quite what to do.
Jim saw her and held up a hand in greeting. Switching off his blower, he met Tess at the end of her driveway. His face was red, and his eyelashes and brows were crusted with snow, but his expression was as exuberant as a child’s. He was smiling from ear to frozen ear.
“I can’t remember the last time we had this much snow!” he said. “I’m just glad the blower started up. We had heard rumors this winter might be harsh—something about the beavers and their thick coats—so I had this baby tuned up in November just in case. Good thing! Usually, I can handle the snow with just a shovel, but not today!”
Tess smiled at him. “You’re loving this.”
“Darn right!” Jim chirped. “It’s got to be ten below zero out here. With the windchill, I’ll bet it’s thirty below. We never get this sort of weather in Wharton. Sort of makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Tess said, laughing as she noticed even her teeth were cold. She shot a look at her garage, where snow had drifted high against the door. “Jim, I don’t think I’ve even got a shovel.”
He shook his head. “Why would you? This has been a summer place for your family for so long, you wouldn’t have needed one.” He patted the handle of his snowblower. “Don’t you fret. I’ll get your driveway and sidewalk blown out. I saw a couple of teenagers—that Johnson boy, for one—walking up and down the street with shovels, doing people’s porches and stairs. I’ll call them over to get you shoveled out.”
A wave of relief washed over Tess. What a thing, to have good neighbors. She knew how blessed she was.
“That sounds great, thank you,” she said. “But I have one condition. I’ll make up a big pot of my famous harvest stew. You and Jane come on over later. I’ve got salad fixings and wine and beer in the fridge, too.”
Jim raised his eyebrows. “Famous harvest stew? You’ve got a deal! I brought home a couple of baguettes from the store last night, so we’ll contribute those.”
“Perfect,” Tess said, turning to head back into the house. But then she had a thought that made her turn around again. “Oh! The store. Aren’t you opening it today?”
Jim shook his head. “If anyone in town needs anything, they know to call me or Mavis,” he said, referring to his store manager. “That’s basically how it works in the winter. Bad weather hits, we close up, but not before making sure folks have what they need to ride it out. If they find themselves short of something necessary, Mavis or I can always zip down to the store to open it up for them.”
As Jim happily returned to his snow blowing, Tess trudged her way back to her front porch. Inside, she pulled off her boots and left them, and her parka, in the entryway. As she walked through the house, she caught a chill. She touched the big radiator in the living room—ice cold.
Tess sighed but figured it wasn’t surprising. This house hadn’t been used in the winter very often during her lifetime, and who knew how long before that. And Wharton was famous for its unusually temperate winter months, so the heating system in La Belle Vie wasn’t exactly top of mind for anyone. The boiler and radiators could probably use a tune-up. She made a mental note to call her parents to ask who, if anyone, had serviced it in recent years. Otherwise, Jim would know of someone who could come and take a look at it. Tess hoped it wouldn’t need a complete overhaul or, worse yet, a new boiler. She hadn’t been counting on that expense.