This story is based on the characters in my story, Chasing Faeries, where a jilted rodeo cowboy from Texas fled to a remote cabin in Norway seeking solitude. There, he met a forest spirit called a Huldra. They spent a magical evening together, and she did the impossible. She healed his broken heart. When dawn breaks, she tells him a human and a Huldra could never have a life together and she must leave him. She refused to give him her real name, so he named her Amarillo, after his favorite country song. In return, she called him Texas. Texas asked her how he could thank her, and her request was for him to return one year later so they could spend another wonderful evening together. But his love for her is too strong, and he risks a winter trip to Norway to go, "Searching for Amarillo".
This story has the same characters, but takes place several months later. Armed with the above summary, you should be able to enjoy this story without reading the first one.
===========
POV - Texas, the Rodeo Cowboy
===========
**********
CHAPTER 1
**********
I missed Amarillo so much. I couldn't wait until next October. I am a 'fool in love' for returning to Norway in winter, knowing it is going to be dark, cold, and snowy. I contacted a company that runs snowmobile tours and they agreed to get everything set up for me at the cabin. They told me the road to the cabin was unplowed, but I should be able to get within a few kilometers of the cabin by car, and then snowmobile the rest of the way. I had cut plenty of firewood last fall to try to strengthen my shoulder and it should be enough to keep the wood stove going for quite a while. After arriving in Norway, I met the guide, and he went over the preparations.
"In Norway, a wooden cabin is called a hytte. Most Norwegians own one. It is part of the Norwegian soul and is a way for us to spend more time in the middle of our beloved wilderness. But you need to be careful in this forest."
He looked intently at me. "There are stories that this forest is haunted by a forest spirit known as a Huldra. Be careful if you see a tall, fair, and slender woman dressed in white, with golden hair flowing down her back. She may try to lure you deeper into the forest with her seductive singing and dancing to have sex with you. Don't go with her, because once you have sex with a Huldra, a part of your soul stays with her, and she will haunt your dreams."
What the guide described is exactly what happened to me last October. I met a Huldra, and she did the impossible, she healed my broken heart. Then, using the special magical energy of sunrise, she even fixed my bum shoulder. We had sex beneath a waterfall, and the guide was right, Amarillo has been in my dreams ever since.
"And one other thing. Always be polite and respectful if you encounter a Huldra. A hunter was getting ready to shoot a buck when a beautiful woman appeared next to him. She spooked the buck, so he cursed her. She grabbed the barrel of his rifle and breathed in it. She was extraordinarily strong, and he spun partway around trying to pull his rifle away from her. When he turned back, she had vanished. Now he says his rifle has been unable to hit anything, no matter how carefully he aims. He swears she was a Huldra and she put a curse on his rifle."
Amarillo must have found the hunter who shot the red deer doe back in October and handled him in a way only she could.
"I see you brought a guitar with you. There is an interesting concert coming soon near Hol, a bit east of here. I left information on it in your cabin. It's quite unique and you should go if you can. The trail to your cabin is pretty easy to follow, just look for my tracks. Your auto will be safe here next to the road. If you need something, you will have to come back here to find a cell phone signal. There is no signal at your cabin."
I thanked him and climbed aboard the snowmobile. As I approached the cabin the shadows were already getting long, and right after unloading gear from the sled, twilight descended. It was only 4:00 p.m. I was prepared for the cold, but the short days would make it challenging to find Amarillo.
**********
CHAPTER 2
**********
Sunrise the next morning didn't come until 9:00 a.m. and I went out to look for tween places. The first tween place I wanted to visit was the waterfall where I caught up with Amarillo back in October. I remembered the general direction and headed off on my snowmobile. Everything looked different under a blanket of snow, and navigating through the tightly packed birch forest was slow. I spotted a clearing caused by an old avalanche, parked the snowmobile, and went forward on foot to find the stream that would lead me to the waterfall.
The snow crunched under my boots, but I did not sink in. I came upon the slopped banks that clearly mark the streambed, and was not surprised to see the stream frozen. I followed the streambed downhill to locate the waterfall, then carefully climbed down to the base. The waterfall was like one of those prolonged exposure photographs of smoothly contoured water, only the water wasn't flowing, it had also turned to ice!
Walking around, two memories were burned into my mind. Amarillo had healed the red deer doe here, and I had danced with Amarillo next to the waterfall. I walked around to the side of the frozen waterfall and found a small cave behind it. Entering carefully, I saw the rock where Amarillo and I had made love, then noticed something odd on the back wall. It was the sketch I had made of Amarillo and me! But it wasn't on paper! My sketch was carved into the rock! This was something only a Huldra could do!
Amarillo had been here, so this must certainly be a tween place. I began singing our song, 'Amarillo by Morning', knowing that she loved music and art. I stepped outside the waterfall to look for her, but nothing. I called out her name, but again, nothing. After an hour, I gave up and made my way back to the snowmobile.
I had been told that a boundary between water and land was a good tween place, so I made my way up to the top of the mountain to where Amarillo and I had stood, watching the Northern Lights. There was a lake there, and the lakeshore met the requirement for a tween place. But when I arrived, the lake was gone! I stopped the snowmobile where I remembered seeing the lake and got off. Nothing looked familiar. I brushed aside a layer of snow with my boot, and there was only ice! Spotting movement beneath it, I looked carefully and saw a fish staring up at me! The lake had frozen! I returned to the cabin, realizing I would need more thought on where to find tween places.
Over the next few days, I went out before sunrise and stayed out until sunset, searching for Amarillo, but without luck. At night, my mind replayed all the suggestions I had received on tween places. I threw out everything that was a boundary between earth and water. There were no such boundaries in Norway in winter because everything was frozen! The remaining clues on where to find Amarillo were more enigmatic.
Between the light and the dark
Between the stars
Between the first and the last
Between the mundane and the magical
Between this world and the next
Between here and there
Neither one place nor another
Nothing made sense! I was frustrated and began to doubt myself. I had no idea where to find these places and feared I would have to wait until spring before I found Amarillo. I decided to spend my days sitting on the fence rails, the place where I first saw Amarillo, and playing my guitar. It had been a tween place then, a boundary between forest and cabin, but now everything was white and cold, and lonely.
That night, I looked outside and noticed it getting brighter. The moon was almost full and was reflecting off the snow, making it bright enough for me to navigate at night. I decided to look for Amarillo at midnight, the tween time between one day and the next. As I headed out, wispy clouds were casting a veil over the moon, but it was still plenty bright. I had no problem seeing the landscape, so I turned off the headlight of the snowmobile.
I paused frequently to look and listen, but all I saw was silvery blue snow, and all I heard was wind. Then, I spotted something I overlooked during my daylight runs. It appeared to be standing stones, possibly a tween place. Reaching them, I called out for Amarillo, but without luck. The wind picked up, and the moon became obscured by clouds. It started snowing. It was not yet midnight, but I decided it would be wise to head back to the cabin. I turned on the headlights and began following the trail I had just made.
The snow became heavier, and gusting winds blew it across the trail. I was in a whiteout! I continued onward using dead reckoning, but everything was strangely unfamiliar. I panicked when I realized I might pass the cabin without even seeing it! The sputtering of the engine caught me by surprise, and my snowmobile died. Where was I? And how close was I to the cabin?
I couldn't remain with the snowmobile. I had not brought any shelter, had nothing to start a fire and no way to signal anyone. Even worse, no one knew I was out here. There would be no rescue party. I must be close to the cabin, and even though the snow was getting deeper, I had no choice but to walk.
Every step felt like I was lifting a 50-pound weight with each foot. The going was slow in the knee-deep snow and the blowing snow obscured every landmark. Off in the distance, I heard a pair of snowmobiles, but there was no point in yelling. They would never hear me over the sound of their engines.
