Cabin Fever 22

The young man beside her was silent, lost in his own morose thoughts. Ginny concentrated on the icy highway in front of them, a hint of apprehension gripping her as they approached the Eisenhower Tunnel. Even though she had lived in the Rockies for sixteen years and made the drive from Vail to Denver weekly, this particular stretch of Interstate 70, approaching the Continental Divide, never failed to frighten her. Once more she wished she'd brought her husband's four-wheel drive, if only because it sat up higher and gave a better view. Her own sedan with the all season radials would get them home, but something about this incessant snowfall, though light, bothered her.

Chase sighed. Ginny spied a sideways glance at the young man in her passenger seat. Her son's best friend since grade school, Chase Nolan was newly divorced after only eight months of marriage. He and his bride had met at a conservative religious university and married just after graduation. If Ginny's son Randy was correct, both Chase and his bride had been virgins, waiting until their honeymoon to consummate their marriage. At the time, Ginny had thought it sweet and old-fashioned. Shortly afterwards, Randy had started coming to her with unusual questions. A "friend" of his was having problems satisfying his wife and didn't know what to do. Ginny had guessed the friend was Chase Nolan but hadn't let Randy know about her suspicions.

Over the months, Randy's inquiries had become more pointed. "She doesn't like giving oral sex," Randy had told his mother. They had that kind of open communication; Ginny was proud that her son could address sexual issues with her. "He's done everything he knows to get her to relax and enjoy it, but she just refuses."

Ginny gave what advice she could, that perhaps the groom could look into tasteful videos that demonstrated the loving side of oral sex. But apparently that strategy and any others the young man had attempted had only backfired, and the bride had filed for divorce.

Now Chase was moving back home, at least until he could get back on his feet. Ginny had cheerfully volunteered to fetch Chase from the Denver airport since she'd be in town anyway. She liked Chase and had always considered him part of the family.

"Snow's coming down hard," Chase remarked as they came out of the mile and a half long tunnel. He'd broken out of his stupor and was suddenly aware of his surroundings.

Ginny smiled his way. Their eyes met for a moment, her soft blue-green and his deep dark brown. For an instant something sparked between them. Ginny turned away quickly, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Something unfamiliar fluttered in her stomach. And why was she having trouble breathing? She stared ahead at the road, calculating their distance to home. Silverthorne was just ahead. Thank God.

"I really appreciate you picking me up, Ginny," Chase said. They'd been on a first-name basis since he'd lived with them one summer while his parents were overseas. "It would have cost me a bundle to take a flight into Eagle."

"No problem," she said warmly. "You know I would do anything for you, Chase."

Again their eyes met. The spark between them intensified. His left hand lifted and he stroked her jacketed shoulder. She turned back to the road, a little more slowly this time, wondering: What is happening here?

Ordinarily Ginny stayed on the heavily travelled and well-maintained interstate, but the atmosphere in the sedan was becoming oppressive. She didn't need this kind of confusion...or temptation. At forty-six, she wasn't immune to steeling admiring glances at the young, hard bodies that thronged to Vail's ski slopes. Perhaps if she and her husband of a quarter-century had an intimate relationship she wouldn't have been quite as susceptible. But her husband John had quit making love to her not long after her fortieth birthday. Her life was what it was. She'd sadly accepted her fate.

"Short cut?" Chase questioned when she exited just past Silverthorne and headed in a northwest direction on a well-maintained mountain road.

"Sure. You remember this way," Ginny said confidently. "It goes by that old silver mine and then the Baker cabin."

"Oh yeah. Right to my back door. Good cross-country skiing."

"Guess you didn't get to use those cross-country skis too much in Dallas," she said cheerfully, referring to the skis he'd brought home with him and were now on the rack on top of her car.

"No, they just gathered a lot of dust." He cleared his throat and gazed appreciatively at the scenic route before them. "It's good to be back here, among my own," he said, more to himself than her.

Ginny smiled affectionately at him. "I'm glad you're back," she said.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. He looked at her again, but this time in a way that left little doubt what he was thinking.

"I'd forgotten how pretty the view is here," he said, his dark eyes boring straight into her.

There was no way around that comment. She glanced back at the winding road, hardly noticing the snow that was now falling at an alarming rate. Something stirred between her legs. Oh God, she had never, never thought of Chase that way. Sure, she had noticed—because she had eyes—how beautifully cut he was...broad shouldered, with a tapering torso and muscular thighs...but not in an I-want-to-fuck-you sort of way.

The glass inside the car was starting to fog up and Ginny put on the defroster. Chase stirred uneasily in his seat. He crossed his legs and slumped to one side, as far from her as he could get.

Ginny tried desperately to concentrate on the road. Ordinarily she didn't have a problem driving in the snow, but the depth on the road was beginning to unsettle her.

"I wonder if I shouldn't turn around," she murmured.

"What?"

She glanced at him. "Well, it's just—"

He stared at her. His smoldering expression made her breathless.

"The road," she nodded before them.

Chase made a cursory glance at the road. "Looks fine to me. Would you rather I drive? I drove this car when you first got it, remember?"

How could she forget? It had been three summers ago, just after his freshman year in college. He'd lived with them that summer while his father worked in Saudi Arabia. Getting up in the middle of a warm night and wearing only a tank top and panties, Ginny had padded silently to the only upstairs bathroom in their house and flipped on the light. There, leaning against the vanity, had been a completely naked Chase, wanking his raging hardon with a pair of her silky panties and a profuse amount of her body lotion.

Their eyes had met and he's stopped, frozen in place. Ginny's eyes had fallen of their own volition onto his cock, mesmerized. Saliva from the corners of her mouth had poured out to pool in the center of her bottom lip. A long stream of clear liquid had fallen from her lip onto the floor, making a puddle inches from his foot.

"Sorry," she'd managed to choke out, flipping the light back off and wheeling around.

As she'd stepped away from the door, she'd heard his gasp as he blew his load into her panties. She'd hurried back into her room to lie down beside her sleeping husband, and brought herself to orgasm with just a few strokes between her thighs.

Since then, Chase had grown into a stunningly attractive man. His chiseled features and shaggy black hair gave him an air of urbane sophistication that any woman would have found irresistible. And yet there remained a quality of boyish vulnerability in his manner. He'd been hurt deeply and needed to find his way back from the pain.

As though coming out of a dream, Ginny was suddenly aware that she could no longer see the road. "Chase," she said apprehensively.

He glanced at her, then to the road. "Stop the car," he ordered.

She did so. He rolled down his window and put out his head. Billows of snow blew into the car, making him blink rapidly.

"I think you missed the turn," he said.

"What?"

"I don't recognize anything."

Ginny rolled down her own window, repeating what he'd done. The snow on the road was several inched thick. She could, to some degree, make out where the land fell of from the road, but the snow was falling so heavily now that without a contrast in front of them, they could very well drive off the mountain.

"I should go back," she said.

"It's too dangerous," Chase said firmly. They both knew people who had died on these roads when they should have given up. He took out his cell phone and gave it a try. "Out of range."

Ginny tried her as well. "This is crazy," she muttered helplessly.

Chase let out a long, calming breath. "Okay," he said rationally, "let's think this through. The highway people tell us to just sit tight in our cars until rescue comes. But you and I both know that that's a bunch of P.R. crap for the tourists who might get stranded up here. You have, what? A quarter tank? Even running the motor only to get warm and then turning it off won't make it last."

She shook her head incredulously. "Chase, I am so, so sorry. I can't believe I did this."

"Hey, you didn't do anything," he said firmly, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Look, you wanted to turn around ten minutes ago and I said the road was fine. Don't apologize to me. What we have to think about now are our options. The Baker cabin is approximately due west from here. I know the terrain pretty well so when we get near it I'll know. I have my cross-country skis, you have snow shoes in the trunk, and we've got about four hours of daylight to work with."

His confidence was heartening. Even while they had talked about a plan, the snow had built up around the doors, making it difficult to get out. Ginny hastily wrote a note to whoever found the car, stating the Baker cabin as their objective. When she joined Chase at the trunk, he had filled a spare backpack for her to wear with groceries from the health food store she'd been to that morning in Denver. He continued loading groceries into his own backpack, which also held a change of clothes and his toiletries, as well as a few small items from his suitcase. Ginny got into her snow shoes. She kept them in her truck for when she walked her dogs, which was every day.

They walked back along the road to wear it leveled off into a narrow pass that gave smooth access to the west. Chase slipped on the long cross-country skis he'd carried to this point and pushed off with his poles, sliding a bit a head of her. He'd pulled a woolen cap over his head, and in his jeans and heavy down jacket he looked right at home among the boulders and pines. Ginny pulled her scarf up over her bare lips and continued effortlessly. She could walk for hours, even with a grocery-filled backpack on her back, and not get winded. While Chase moved easily ahead of her on the skis, he was not acclimated to the altitude, and several times he stopped to rest while she caught up.

"You're in really good shape," he said admiringly after almost an hour of steady progress.

"I walk the dogs five miles every morning," she reminded him.

A gloom settled over the valley as the sun began its descent. The new snow made everything hushed. Nothing stirred, and except for their labored breathing there was no other sound. At last they crested a hill and the land sloped down and away from them. In the center of a blanket of white was the cabin of the Baker family, shut up tight for the winter.

"They only use it in the summer," Ginny said as Chase looked for a hidden key, an open door, or an unlocked window.

He picked up a rock and broke out two panes in a bedroom window. "Well, I guess next summer I'll be buying them a new window," he said as he put in his hand to turn the locks. A moment later he hoisted up the window and pulled himself in. Ginny waited, cold and hungry, for him at the front door.

Chase only just set down his backpack before he headed off to the backdoor. "I saw a propane tank in the back," he said excitedly. "I'll see what I can do about getting the water on."

Ginny went to work building a fire in the massive stone hearth. Except for a rather shabby little sofa and a coffee table, there wasn't much else in the bare living room. Once the fire started to blaze, she left it to check out the kitchen. The refrigerator was unplugged and empty. Except for dishes and pots and pans, every scrap of food had been removed. She was glad Chase had thought to bring food.

Two bedrooms stood completely empty except for the bed frames and mattresses. The linen closet was devoid of even a single blanket, although a sleeping bag and a pillow had been absently left in a corner, probably by one of the children. These she carried back into the living room and tossed onto the sofa.

Chase walked in, looking pleased with himself. He went to the kitchen and turned on the water. He flickered the lights. He turned on the stove and watched it warm up.

"All the comforts of home," he said, coming into the living room to warm himself in front of the fire. He glanced about the room. "Any chance they have a furnace?"

"I didn't see one," Ginny answered, "which is perhaps why they only use it in the summer."

He looked into the flames. "The search party will be out tomorrow," he said matter-of-factly. "They might find the car if it stops snowing. But it's still coming down hard out there."

"We brought enough food for at least several days," she remarked. "As long as we conserve our energy and don't do anything strenuous, we'll be fine."

His eyes flashed at her and his lips started to curl into a smile. Ginny had to stop and think what she'd said. A blush crept over her cheeks as she realized the double meaning in her statement.

"Speaking of food," she said quickly, turning away from his penetrating stare, "I think I'll make us something to eat."

Things in cans and boxes weren't her idea of a meal but Ginny made do. They sat together on the uncomfortable sofa facing the fire, their plates on the coffee table, discussing each other's relatives. Talking about other people was safe. Most of their respective families were dull with very little scandal, but someone was always having a baby or getting a new job. Chase sat back on the sofa, his left arm stretched out along the back. He wore a flannel shirt over a t-shirt, and his beard had started to grow in after several days of not shaving.

Ginny kicked off her boots and curled her socked feet under her as they talked. She was of average height, just over 5'8", but she was quite small boned and slender, partly from her daily workouts but also because she maintained a careful diet. Once dark-headed, she now used hair color to cover her gray; she hated doing anything artificial, but she hated the gray more. Her brows were naturally light and arched, and her deep-set blue-green eyes were round and honest. She wore only moisturizer and lip gloss, and only to protect her skin from the harsh mountain conditions. Vanity was something she just didn't understand.

She had worn tights under her corduroys which kept her warm and only a light sweater under her down jacket. The jacket she had taken off while making dinner, and in just the sweater she was a bit cold. She wrapped her arms around her knees while Chase talked and listened attentively, her head resting near his arm.

At length he noticed her shivering. "Here," he said, standing up to unzip the sleeping bag and drape it around her shoulders. He stood in front of her, peering down at her upturned face. "Would you like something warm," he asked, "to drink?"

Ginny nodded wordlessly, only because she couldn't speak. That feeling she'd experienced in the car...the stirring between her legs...was back. She moved uncomfortably on the sofa, thinking it must be the way her thong was centering on her crotch. But moving didn't help much. Now that she was aware of it, the thought of being turned on aroused her even more. She stood up to look down into the fire. The tea kettle whistled. After another moment Chase joined her with two mugs of herbal tea.

"Chamomile," he said. "Should make you nice and sleepy."

Ginny raised the mug to her lips. She wished he wouldn't talk about bedtime.

"About the sleeping arrangements," Chase said tentatively. "I'm thinking that since this is the only warm room in the house, maybe I could drag in one of the mattresses and put it in front of the fire. That way we could share the sleeping bag and pillow as well as the body heat."

Ginny swallowed hard. What was she supposed to say? No? How could she explain to him that she wasn't comfortable sleeping next to him? He probably saw her as a mother figure. He'd be insulted if she refused.

"Sounds great, Chase," she managed to say, although not very convincingly.

With the dishes cleared and washed, Chase decided to take a shower. Ginny rummaged through kitchen drawers and came up with a deck of cards. It was that, or reading old phone books. Sitting cross legged on the sofa, she played a game of solitaire. He took a very long time in the shower. She tried not to think about his naked body or what he might be doing in there. She tried to think about where all the jacks were hiding. Frustrated, she gathered the cards together and shuffled. She felt very cold and stiff. The hike was beginning to catch up with her. She wondered if she should take a shower as well.

Chase emerged damp-headed, looking fresh in gray sweats and a white t-shirt. His feet were bare and when he sat down next to Ginny she could see little black hairs on his toes. She smiled to herself, thinking how very cute his feet were. Unbeknownst to her he followed her line of vision. His lips parted imperceptibly as he watched her examining his feet, all the while a slight flush rising on her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm so stiff," she complained gently, coming back to her senses. "I should take a shower, too. Maybe it'll take out this chill in my bones."

"I'll fetch you something to put on," Chase volunteered, grabbing his backpack.

"What?" Ginny asked, confused.

"Well, unless you brought along some clothes I don't know about..."

She couldn't argue with him there. He gave her a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. The shorts were red and silky, and she was sure he'd given her these because of the built-in crotch. Wordlessly she nodded her thanks and slinked into the bathroom, relieved to be away from his overwhelming presence.

He'd washed out his green plaid boxers as well as his socks and left them to dry on the towel rack. Ginny followed suit; there was no way for them to know how long they would be here. With her thong and tights dripping on a towel, she got into the wonderfully steamy shower. Before she could stop herself she wetted her hair by force of habit. Once committed, she used Chase's masculine-scented shampoo. He'd brought body wash as well, and this she used on her other regions, trying not to think about why being clean meant so much to her right now.

As she stepped out of the shower she saw Chase's shaving kit on the sink, as yet untouched. It occurred to her that she hadn't shaved in a while; once winter set in there was really not much reason to do so. Knowing that her legs would be bare, Ginny reached for the razor and lowered it to her calves. She shouldn't do this, she knew, even while she did so. It wasn't right for her to more of less "prepare" herself for something that shouldn't...and wouldn't...happen. But her female instincts had kicked in and she couldn't stop. Once her legs were shaved bare, she did the same to her underarms, even though the t-shirt covered these parts.

Now to hide the evidence. She rinsed the razor thoroughly, shook it out and dried it with a corner of her towel. Hopefully he would be none the wiser.

Her hair was still damp and she deftly French braided it behind her head, tying it off with a rubber band from her purse. As she started to leave the bathroom, she put her hand to her mouth and blew into it. Ugh. Her breath was awful. But she hadn't a toothbrush and she certainly wasn't going to use his. Instead she squeezed a prodigious amount of toothpaste onto her finger and rubbed it into her teeth and gums with toilet tissue. It wasn't the same as brushing but it made her feel better.