Winter Lost

“—and because of that, I got a reputation. When anyone—park personnel, police, or even some of the homeless people—would find them, they would bring them to me—”

Adam listened to Tammy with half an ear. His wolf was fascinated by Hugo. Adam knew better than to discount the wolf’s instincts.

Liam had said Hugo was simple. Neurodiverse, maybe, Adam thought. The old man’s interpersonal communication was off. But there was a confidence in the way Hugo moved that belied any lack of intelligence.

Adam wished Mercy were here to tell him what she thought of Hugo. He was willing to bet—from his wolf’s reaction—that there was something very special about the lodge’s gardener.

“—‘Any questions?’ ”

He could tell from the happy anticipation of the rest of the table that Tammy was nearing the climax of the story, so Adam brought his attention back to her.

“And Zane said, ‘Just one. Why do you have three prosthetic legs on your desk?’ And I said, before my good sense could intervene, ‘Why? Are you a leg man?’ He leaned over the desk and said, ‘Absolutely. Would you come to dinner with me?’ ”

“And she said no,” Peter said proudly.

“Dating donors is a good way to ruin your charity’s funding,” she said. “It took him three months to talk me into it. He sent his dating résumé, with letters of recommendation from all of his former girlfriends—and one boyfriend.” She grinned.

Hugo asked her to repeat parts of her story—some he hadn’t quite understood, and some he wanted more information about. Subtle humor didn’t seem to be a concept he was very good with. The whole table chimed in, all of them, Adam thought with interest, protective of the gardener.

He was just getting ready to excuse himself when Liam came in to request help with the snow.

—

There had been other volunteers to help clear the roof, but Liam had quashed them all. The roof was pitched properly steep to have survived nearly a hundred years of Montana winters, which was steep enough to be dangerous, especially since the old shingles had been replaced with metal a few years ago. If Adam fell off, even from that height, he was unlikely to do any permanent damage to himself. The same could not be said of any of the humans.

Liam showed Adam where the extendable ladder was stored in an outbuilding and helped him carry the unwieldy thing over the snowdrifts to the back of the lodge. Where the greenhouse extended from the side of the lodge, they found a nook that was somewhat protected from the wind gusts, and set the ladder up.

Even in the shelter of the greenhouse, Liam had to hold the ladder to keep the wind from dislodging it. Liam had borrowed some climbing gear from the goblins—who had not volunteered to help. The goblins, with their mountain-climbing experience, would have probably been better at this than Adam. But according to Liam, they had handed over the gear without a word and disappeared into their rooms.

“The goblins really don’t like you,” Liam said, giving Adam a speculative glance.

“Someone told them I kill their kind,” Adam said, going over the equipment carefully. “It’s not true, but I don’t blame them for being wary.”

Adam put the climbing harness on, making adjustments as necessary. Liam didn’t say anything more, so Adam didn’t, either. He put the rope over his shoulder and started up the ladder, trusting Liam to hold it steady.

The wind grew stronger the higher up Adam climbed, but he’d been expecting that. He had grabbed a pair of safety glasses from the SUV because the driving snow did a pretty good job of sandblasting his eyes. But the second time he had to stop to clear them on the way to the roof, he put them in his pocket. His eyes would just have to deal.

Once at the top of the ladder, he examined the environment he’d be working in. He’d chosen to climb up the back of the building where the wind had blown the roof mostly clear. His initial plan had been to walk up this side of the roof and tie off to one of the chimneys that Liam had assured him were in superb shape and very sturdy.

From his current vantage point, though, he realized that plan needed some tweaking. He’d seen slides in playgrounds that looked less slick than this roof. Walking wasn’t going to work.

He knew there was a grin on his face as he charged up the roof—hopefully where the joist two-by-fours supported the aluminum from underneath. He reached the nearest chimney and roped himself up without incident. He let out a sharp whistle, so Liam knew he was free to go run herd on the ground-bound snow shovel personnel.