Kristin's boot sank into the soft and muddy ground. The forest floor was still damp from the last of the fall rains. Soon the weather will turn cold and snow will cover the mountains that framed the valley. She hoisted her backpack a little higher on her shoulders and marched on. This was the last hike of the year, the last check on the range under her supervision. After this, the Forest Service will go into hibernation, just like the bears.
Below her was the tip of the long, thin lake that filled the valley. And at the tip of it was the Hound Hotel, a pale presence caught between the dark green firs and the jewel blue lake. A few windows glowed orange, standing out from the pale cream colored walls.
"Odd", thought Kristin, "it's usually empty this time of year."
The Hound Hotel was mostly empty most of the year. Built in the 1920's it was meant to anchor the development of the valley as a resort destination. But few people ever came. It now stood empty, used mostly for exotic weddings and the odd hunting group.
Kristin made her way towards the hotel. Anyone staying there needed to know that soon the snows would come and the hotel will be locked in, unaccessible by road or air. Adjusting her Forest Service hat and making sure her green uniform was in shape, she started the long winding walk towards the old hotel.
There were no cars parked in the small muddy lot of the hotel. But that was not surprising. Most people came by boat. As she rounded the corner of the hotel, Kristin saw two long wooden speedboats tied to the pier. Beautiful boats, she noticed, with the swooping lines of the luxury boats of old, the kind that used to service this hotel during its heydays. Glad to see that someone had taken good care of them.
The entrance of the hotel faced the lake, the front ornate and decorated with wood carvings. The large glass doors opened onto the dining room which took up the whole of the first floor. The lights were on, and Kristin could see people moving inside. She walked up the marble stairs and made her way inside, past the Belle Epoque stained glass doors.
She was immediately taken by the warmth of the air, sweet smelling and musky as if someone had been burning incense. Music was playing somewhere. Inside, a dozen or so people were laughing and dancing, each dressed in colorful costumes. Some were in tuxedoes and ball gowns, but wore face masks.
Kristin immediately felt ill-at-ease in her bland uniform and muddy boots. The lobby was decorated in rich red velvets, marble and oak, crystal chandeliers hanging from a cream ceiling. Though no one seemed to pay any attention to her, the people here were obviously of a wealthier class than she. She was the daughter of logger, from a logging family. She was not used to fancy parties.
A woman approached her, all smiles, dressed in a golden flapper dress that left her shoulders and long legs bare. Unlike the others, she had no mask on, nothing to hide her youthful beauty and long blond hair.
"That's a great costume!" Said the woman, cheerfully.
"Ma'am," answered Kristin a bit ruefully, "it's not a costume. I'm with the Forest Service. Can I speak with the organizer of this party?"
"Ooh, is there some trouble?" Asked the blonde.
"No, I just need to make sure everyone safe. The weather is about to turn and it's important the Service knows who's where in case of trouble."
"I'll take you to Grant," said the blonde, taking Kristin by the hand and leading her towards the back of the lobby.
Kristin let herself be led through a series of hallways and small back rooms until they finally emerged in a what must have been a men's smoking lounge, back in the day. The walls were clad in dark oak, hung with tapestries or framed with bookshelves. Tall windows looked out onto the dark forested mountains. The furniture was heavy and dark, the kind that swallowed you up in its dark green velvet.
Most of the furniture had been pushed back though, to make room for a large easel. On the other side of the room a table had been draped with heaps of tapestry, pillows and foot stools. On the table, draped elegantly across the heap, was a naked woman. At the easel stood a man, dressed in a suit, paint brush and paint tray in hands, uncaring of the mess he was making on the carpeted floor or of his suit.
"Grant!" Exclaimed the blonde woman, "there a lady to see you about the weather!"
The woman let go of Kristin's hand in order to run over to the table and give a friendly kiss to the naked woman.
"What about the weather?" Asked Grant.
He was a tall man, with sharp features and piercing blue eyes, his hair a mop of graying black hair. He wore his suit like an ill-fitting costume, jacket and shirt unbuttoned to reveal a skinny and hairless chest.
"It's about to turn," said Kristin, trying to bring her mind to the moment. This scene was far from what she was expecting to encounter when she took off from her base camp this morning.
"So what. We'll be fine. Is the building going to collapse?" Said Grant rather brusquely.
"No, but the Forest Service likes to know who is out here in case something happens, that's all."
"The Forest Service? Is that a Lady's Outdoor Activity League sort of thing?" He asked, perplexed.
"No sir, it's part of the Federal government." Explained Kristin, a little puzzled.
"Never heard of it." Said Grant, flatly.
"Well, I guess I should go," said Kristin. "Have a good day."
She turned and headed back the way she came.
Before she made it through the door, she heard Grant call out.
"You should stay," he said.
Kristin turned. He was busy applying paint on his canvas, looking intently at the nude woman on the table. Without turning to Kristin, he continued:
"You said the weather was turning. And the day is getting late. Stay the night, leave in the morning."
He finally turned to her and smiled, and Kristin saw the charmer behind the gruff manner.
"After all, " he said, " there's plenty of room."
