Recipe for a Curse - Lissa Kasey Page 0,2

didn’t that put a damper on my love life. The world at large taught us that sex was crucial. In truth it wasn’t sex so much as human interaction. The last year of stunted contact had really hammered that point home.

Rio had a nice smile. Warm and kind, though guarded, he’d always seemed very genuine. And now I was really worried. “Skeleton?” But I’d spent some time living off ramen myself before Ms. Sofia had found me. Not balanced meals by any means. “Does he even have power up there?”

“I think he has a generator,” Jim shrugged. “He doesn’t like people much. Keeps to himself. Heard someone say he has a bit of PTSD. But he’s been up here ten years or so? No one sees him in the winter. Then spring he shows up.”

“And no one worries about him all winter?”

“Most of us are too busy to get up that way,” Diana admitted. The manor was almost thirty minutes north, and with Rio’s tiny plot of land being past that, it made sense. In the snow it would be even harder. The roads were always well plowed, but since he wasn’t on a dedicated road, it was unlikely he’d be anything more than snowed in most of the winter. Crap.

“I’ll stop up,” I said making a commitment right that minute that I would not let that man spend months in the miserable cold all alone. “Can I load up a box for him?” What were some of the things he normally picked?

“Sure,” Jim said. “Take whatever you need.”

I went through the pantry, choosing things that could stretch meals, canned chicken, green beans, stuffing, and even got a few fresh items including a sack of potatoes and some bananas. I loaded it all into paper bags, got directions from Jim and headed back up, dialing Zach from the car on the way.

“I wanted to let you know where I’m going,” I told my boss. “In case I’m not back till late or something. It sounds like it’s a bit of a walk.”

“There’s a storm coming,” Zach said, sounding worried. “Ten inches of snow predicted. This far north you know it’s more likely we’ll get over a foot.”

“I’ve got my coat and stuff,” I said. “It’s not far. Just seven or so miles from the manor.”

“Call if there’s trouble. I’ve put the plow on my truck and can tow a car out of a ditch if necessary.”

“I will,” I promised and hung up. My plan was to send him the coordinates as soon as I arrived. I accidentally drove by the outlet twice before finding a small break in the snow. It almost looked like someone had partially shoveled the edge of the road where the trail began. I pulled off, parking out of the way, and sent a text off to Zach. I only had one bar on my phone, so hopefully it went through. Jim hadn’t been kidding about the trail. It was literally nothing more than a thin hiking trail etching through the trees. I couldn’t see anything but a dark overlay of woods.

When I opened the back of the car I cursed, realizing that I had no real way to carry pounds of food to a cabin that was a mile or so away through the snow. I stared at the cooler. It was a giant thing with wheels and a handle. That would have to do. I pulled out the cooler, which only had five pounds of bacon and a pack of steaks in it, loaded it with as much as I could, then stacked what I was able to on top before locking up the car. There was more he could have, but I’d have to make another trip back.

I tugged on the thick winter coat I almost never wore, a hat, and some gloves, then pulled the cooler to the trail. The wheels were almost useless. The snow on the path was shoveled, but not sturdy enough to roll on, so it was like pulling a lead weight. It wasn’t until I hit a dozen or so yards into the trees that the cooler seemed to find ice and begin to slide.

Thank god.

There were tracks along the edge of the trail. I examined them as I walked. Rabbit I thought, since they were small and sort of looked like a dick dragging through the snow. It made me laugh a little. A wild dick running through the woods, a meme I’d seen a few