Nicholas's Story
Copyright© 2025 by writer 406
Chapter 45
The two neighbors got much closer during a catastrophic blizzard in January. It had started as a typical Pacific Northwest winter storm—steady rain. During the night, the temperature dropped because of cold air flowing out of the Fraser River valley in British Columbia. By morning, the rain had transformed into heavy, wet snow that accumulated faster than anyone had anticipated.
Emily woke up to an unusual silence. No hum from the heating system, no digital clock displays, no familiar household sounds. When she looked out her bedroom window, she gasped. Snow had fallen three feet deep in some places, sculpted by wind into drifts that reached nearly to the first-floor windows. The cedars and bigleaf maples on her property were bent under the weight of snow and ice; a massive fir had fallen across her driveway, blocking access to the main road.
Downstairs, she found Amy and Tyler huddling together on the sofa, wrapped in blankets. The house was growing colder by the minute without the central heating, and when Emily tried the landline, she discovered it was dead as well. She had forgotten to charge her cell phone.
She went out to the garage and tried to start the generator. No luck. Now she was getting genuinely worried.
“Mom, it’s really cold,” Amy said. She had followed her mother out to the garage. Her breath fogged in the cold air of the garage.
“I know, sweetheart,” Emily replied, trying to keep worry from her voice. “Let’s gather more blankets and stay together. Body heat will help.”
She had tried to start a fire in the living room fireplace, but years of relying on central heating meant she had no seasoned firewood, and the few logs in the decorative basket were insufficient for sustained warmth. Her medical training helped her assess their situation clinically: they had food for several days, no water from the taps because no electricity to run the pump in the well.
The Tudor revival architecture that looked so charming in normal weather proved problematic in a crisis—high ceilings that allowed heat to escape, large windows that conducted cold efficiently, a layout designed for grandeur rather than energy efficiency. Within hours, the indoor temperature had dropped to barely 60 degrees.
By afternoon, all three were shivering despite multiple layers and shared blankets. Emily had moved them into the kitchen, which retained heat better than the larger rooms, but she knew their situation could become genuinely dangerous. Hypothermia was a real risk, especially for the children.
She was considering the desperate measure of trying to reach her car through the deep snow when she heard a sound that seemed impossible — a firm knock at the front door.
She opened it to find her neighbor standing on her front porch, snowshoes strapped to his feet, a toboggan behind him. He was dressed in serious cold-weather gear—layers of down and wool.
“Mr. Carter!” she exclaimed, relief flooding through her voice. “How did you...?”
“Thought I’d better check up on you guys,” he said cheerfully. Stepping out of the snowshoes and stamped snow from his boots. “Figured you might need help.”
“Power’s been out since sometime last night,” Emily confirmed. “No generator. The one in the garage hasn’t worked for years.”
Nicholas nodded. “My house has a generator and a wood-burning fireplace with seasoned fuel. You guys should come stay with me until power’s restored.”
“We can’t make it through that snow,” Emily protested, looking at the drifts that reached above her knees.
“Yes, you can,” Nicholas grinned. He gestured to the sled he’d built. “I brought you transportation. You all can ride on the sled. It’s no Santa Claus Sleigh but it’ll work.”
What followed was a carefully orchestrated evacuation. He told her to make sure the stove was off. Then after the three were bundled up. He set off to his house.
“This is like an adventure!” Amy declared, her mood lifting dramatically as they slid through the heavy snow.
The trek through the forest between their properties was surreal. Snow had transformed the familiar landscape into something from a fairy tale—trees bent into fantastic shapes, paths buried under pristine white drifts, the world muffled and magical despite the underlying danger. Nicholas moved with steady confidence on his snowshoes, breaking trail and pulling the sled with smooth efficiency.
“You’ve done this before,” she observed, noting how Nicholas navigated the terrain with obvious experience.
“I learned how to ski and snowshoe in Switzerland,” he replied breathlessly, without breaking pace.
When they emerged from the forest at Nicholas’s property, Emily felt overwhelming gratitude. His house glowed with warm light from the windows, smoke rising steadily from the chimney, the generator humming reassuringly in its weatherproof enclosure.
His house was not what she had expected. She was disgusted with herself that she still had false impressions of this man.
Instead of the rustic cabin she had envisioned, she found herself looking at a structure that could have graced the pages of House Beautiful or Architectural Digest. The timber frame construction created dramatic visual lines while maintaining perfect proportions. Gray stone formed the foundation and lower walls, complementing the forest setting. Large windows captured views and light.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Nicholas replied, pleased by her reaction. “Come on, let’s get you guys inside out of the cold.”
The interior was even more impressive than the exterior. The main living space featured soaring ceilings supported by massive timber beams, with a stone fireplace that anchored the room without dominating it. Built-in seating along the windows created reading nooks with stunning views across Puget Sound. The kitchen was a masterpiece of functional design—custom cabinetry, professional-grade appliances, a large granite and butcher-block island that invited both cooking and casual dining.
“This is extraordinary,” she murmured, running her hand along a curved stair railing that seemed to invite the touch. “Every detail is perfect.”
Nicholas led her through the ground floor—a study lined with built-in bookshelves, a guest suite with its own fireplace, a mudroom designed for Pacific Northwest weather. Then upstairs to the master suite, which occupied most of the second floor and included a sitting area, walk-in closet, and bathroom that managed to be both luxurious and understated.
“The view from here is incredible,” she said, standing at the master bedroom windows that looked west across the sound toward the Olympic Mountains. “You can see forever.”
“Aiko is brilliant,” Nicholas said. “Morning light from the east, evening views to the west. She oriented the house to capture the best of both.”
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