EIGHT - Snow

A shiver traveled up the spine of Richard Castle when a clump of snow fell from the branch of a tree above, landed on his neck, and slid down towards his collar bone. Grunting, he hunched his shoulders and zipped up his coat a bit higher, regretting his decision not to grab a scarf before he'd left his Manhattan apartment and traveled two hours north west to his wilderness destination. He'd just been very on-edge and frazzled meaning he'd probably forgotten more than just some warmer items, but he could manage; his trip was only a few days long.

His day had begun just after six a.m., which was at least an hour before he would have preferred to be awake. He'd had himself a quick cup of coffee—no time to savor that morning since he was on a time schedule—and then gone upstairs to wake his daughter. Thankfully, her luggage had been packed the night before (SHE had been the one to remind HIM that was a good idea), but he needed to get her breakfast and then pack some snacks for her to have on the plane.

They shared a quick breakfast together and then, with a heavy heart, he gathered up her things and they made their way to Penn Station to get the New Jersey Transit train to Newark. Since his daughter was a minor traveling alone, Castle was allowed to walk her to the gate and wait with her until it was time to board, at which point the airline representative took charge of her. They hugged goodbye and he'd managed to wait until he was back on the train to the city before letting a few tears fall. The first Christmas without his daughter was definitely going to be as hard as he thought it would be, which was why he'd planned what he thought was a good distraction.

Back at his apartment he wasted almost no time throwing belongings into a suitcase of his own. Then, he got his car out of the garage, and began the two-hour drive towards northern Pennsylvania. He'd heard about the cabin from a friend of his and thankfully the owner said it was still available over the Christmas holiday even though he had only called a few weeks before, once his ex-wife Meredith had officially confirmed that, yes, she wanted Alexis to visit for Christmas.

When he thought he was nearing the cabin, Rick pulled off into the first grocery store he spotted and shopped for some essentials. He made it to the cabin about twenty minutes later and surveyed the interior, which had been advertised as "rustic" and certainly fit the descriptor. The interior had rustic looking wood panels on the walls and exposed beams on the ceiling. The furniture was obviously well used, and the kitchen appliances looked nearly as old as he was, but for a few nights it would do.

Though he hoped to get a fair amount of writing done in his free-from-distractions environment, Castle first knew that he wanted to explore the surrounding woods and lake, which were, after all, the main draw of that location.

He started out walking along the road, which was not the best due to a narrow berm made narrower by piles of plowed snow. After about ten minutes of walking, he noticed a path through the trees and hoped over the plowed banks of snow to access it. The path was well covered in footprints from both humans and dogs by the looks of it and it was paved beneath the cover of snow, which meant he wasn't slipping or tripping on the uneven forest floor. About fifteen minutes into his stroll he was hit by the falling snow, but he didn't let it bother his forest exploration. It was so tranquil and quiet. He hadn't experienced such a walk since that summer when he'd walked down the beach in the Hamptons.

As Rick walked, he tried not to think. Maybe if he was in a different headspace he would have used the time to plot, plan, or think up dialog for his latest book, but in that moment, the turmoil in his chest was too great. He was so distracted with worry over Alexis that he knew that concern could soon consume him and he didn't want that, so he used the walk as a meditation of sorts. He tried to keep his mind as clear as possible and if he had to think about something, he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him: trees stripped bare of their leaves now that autumn had come and gone, a small bird sitting on a naked branch, some rocks and stones on the ground.

When he came to a divergence of the path, he chose the one to his left, which seemed less traveled. In fact, the further he walked, the less footprints he saw marking the path. After what he estimated to be about twenty minutes, he grew concerned that he was going to become a bit lost and thought about turning back to the divergence and taking the opposite path which might lead him back to the main road when something caught his eye.

The path was well defined enough for him to see it curved to the right up ahead, but to the left he could see distinct footprints in the snow. The virgin fluff was otherwise undisturbed, but for the distinct walking path that cut directly through a cluster of trees. He walked over to the footprints and couched down. From a closer vantage point he could see they were crisscrossed with prints from a small animal, perhaps a rabbit, but were otherwise lone markings in the newly fallen snow.

Intrigued, several scenarios started to spin in his mind, and he decided to follow them to see where they went. He liked to use his story-on-the-fly exercises to keep his creative juices flowing. At that moment in particular, it would continue to serve as a distraction for him and keep his mind off his daughter.

Were the footprints made by a hunter stalking his prey? An old man missing his deceased spouse and going on a ramble in the quiet early morning? Or perhaps a mischievous child determined to explore, just like he had done during his younger days.

Rick took two steps forward but then thought better of it. Was leaving the designated path really a good idea when he was already feeling a bit lost? Probably not. Disappointed, but knowing it was for the best, he began to turn around when something up ahead caught his eye. Dangling from a tree branch about fifteen steps ahead he saw a green scrap of fabric, notable as all the green was gone from the trees. Curious, he walked forward, but when he reached out to touch the item it immediately fell to the ground; it had evidently barely been hanging on.

Castle scooped the green object from the snow and realized it was actually a green knitted mitten. He glanced between the mitten and the tree for several moments then realized this made sense. The mitten had been hanging at about hip-height in comparison to his stance. It was entirely possible the mitten had been in the coat pocket of the snow footprint maker and was snagged out by the branch.

Still holding the glove, Castle couched down again and examine the footprints ahead of him. In comparison to his own shoes they seemed a bit shorter and definitely narrower. His first thought was that they looked to be from a woman's boot, and that would have made sense given that the glove in his hand was more feminine than not.

Now even more curious, he found himself unable to turn back and instead pressed on. The thicker the trees grew, the more difficult it was to proceed. He was constantly being hit in the shoulders and arms with twigs and sticks, but he kept going. Sometimes he needed to crouch down closer to the ground to see what direction the footprints were traveling, especially where the thick trees had prevented a lot of snow from falling.

More than a few times during his twenty-minute journey he'd been fearful that he might never find his way to a clearing, and then what would he do? Surely his cell phone wouldn't work that far into the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, he could soon see a clearing ahead and let the panic dissipate from his mind and instead focused on how he might use his experience in a novel. Perhaps Derrick Storm could track an enemy through the woods—or maybe even a potential lover. Maybe both!

As the trees began to thin, the lake came into view, and Castle smiled to himself; he'd made it through the wilderness! He was so relieved that he almost forgot about the green glove he still held until he stepped into the clearing and caught sight of a figure by the lake. She was tall and wearing a long quilted coat as she stood just a few feet from the edge of the lake. With a grey and green striped hat on her head, he couldn't tell much about her—at least not from that distance.

The clearing he stepped into gave him about twenty feet of clearance before it turned into the rocky shore of the lake. No other people or structures were in sight, though a low hanging cloud reduced visibility significantly. He took two steps towards her, his boots crunching against the newly fallen snow, then stopped when she turned in his direction just slightly. She brushed some of the hair back from her cheeks with bare fingers enabling him to see her profile. Instantly, the breath was sucked from his lungs for she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.

Thinking she might have turned in his direction due to the sound of his walking, he decided to approach cautiously. He walked forward, closer to the lakes edge, before cutting over in her direction. From that spot he could see more of her face: her petite nose and the slash of her well-defined cheekbone, in addition to the hints of her honey-brown eyes, which to him appeared heavy with sadness.

He took several more steps closer before saying softly, "Excuse me?" Despite what he thought was a delicate approached, she still jumped at the sound of his voice, so he apologized. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you. I just…I found this and wondered if it was yours?"

When he held up the glove, her eyes widened with recognition. She glanced down at herself, stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, and only came out with one glove. "Oh, yes, thank you! That must have fallen out of my pocket somehow."

He gave an easy smile and walked forward to pass the glove off to her. "No problem."

She took the glove with another thank you and said, "You startled me; I didn't realize anyone else was out here."

He nodded in the direction over his shoulder and said, "I came from the trees…I just got here, was wandering around. Glad I didn't get lost to be honest."

"Are you renting one of the cabins for Christmas?"

"Mmhm. Are you?"

She shook her head. "No; my family owns one."

He nodded. Her jaunt through the trees made more sense if she was a resident of the area and thus probably not as likely to get lost unlike a newcomer such as himself. "I see. I'm Rick, by the way."

When he extended out his hand, she shook it and introduced herself as, "Kate."

He took a moment to study her face now that he could see it closer up. She was definitely younger than him by more than a few years; he guessed her to be in her early twenties. Her eyes were indeed filled with an unexplained sadness, but her smile was warm and friendly. Though he'd wished to speak with her more, his gut told him he should leave her to her solitude, so he reluctantly decided to part ways. "Well it was nice to meet you and I hope you have a good holiday." He rocked back on his heels, glancing out at the lake for a moment, but then looking back to her with a pit of a pitiful expression. "I, um, well seeing as you've probably been here before, perhaps you could point me in the right direction so I'm not circling this lake for hours? I'm afraid I got turned around."

"What's the address of your cabin?"

He laughed, having no idea; fortunately he still had the directions in his jacket pocket. "What an excellent question. Hold on. Um…" He hesitated while he skimmed through the folded up piece of paper. "Ah, here its: 817 lakeview."

Kate nodded and pointed towards his left. "That way. About halfway around that big curve."

"Thanks so much."

"Not a problem. Happy holidays Rick."

"You too," he echoed. Then, he turned, shoved his hands down into his coat pockets, and trudged his way through the thickly laying snow.