Stranger at My Door

CH 39: Ana

“Welcome to Aspen!” Christian tells me when he opens the car’s door. 

I am ill dressed for the weather – there is snow on the ground and light flakes are still falling. I am wearing a shirt dress that goes a few inches above my knee and high heel shoes. I reach for his hand and allow him to pull me towards him. The crisp cool air makes me shiver and I pull my coat tighter around me.

“You look amazing, Ana.”

“This is your Aspen cottage!” I expected a rustic log cabin; instead, we are standing in front of a mansion. There is no other way to describe it. It is a multiple level brick house with several chimneys at either side; from here it looks like there are more windows than walls and they are taller than I am. There are leafless trees with white trunks strategically planted not to obstruct the views.

“Is there a river nearby?” I hear water running

“Yes, come. Let me show you around.”

“I – I think I w-w-want to change first.” I say through chattering teeth.

At the entrance, what I took for multiple levels is actually only one with huge ceilings, maybe three stories high, and two rows of wood framed windows. There are exposed wood beams with chandeliers hanging from them, and exposed stone walls. The floor is wood and the furniture is combination of earth tones with a few jewel tones for color. There is a roaring fireplace with exposed wood as the mantel and Venetian plaster surround. I sit next to the hearth and feel the cold melt away from my bones. Christian sits next to me.

“Better?”

I nod. “This is amazing; I thought you said it was a cottage in the woods.”

“It is. I own two acres next to a National forest. The closest neighbors are down in the village a few minutes’ drive from here.” He extends his hand toward a middle aged couple I did not noticed earlier. They are standing by a doorway and behind them is a kitchen. The ceiling is lower and the floor changes to a four by four square terracotta inserts in the wood.

“Mr. and Mrs. Brandon.” Christian introduces them. “They take care of this place for us.”

“Welcome!” Mrs. Brandon tells me with a smile and wrinkles form around her blue eyes. She looks like my grandmother, white hair up in a bun, and a pair of green trousers; she is wearing a sweater which hides behind a white apron. Her husband, Mr. Brandon, is wearing jean overalls and his face is carefree with a big winning smile. 

“Thank you, it is nice to meet you both.” I stand up and offer my hand. They seem surprised at my gesture but return my handshake.

“I have some apple cider ready, or would you prefer something else.” She seems eager to please, her eyes jumping from Christian and I. “That sounds great!” She turns toward the kitchen and Christian puts his arm around my waist. He guides me after her.

There are some dry herbs and flowers hanging from the kitchen ceiling, which is much lower than in the main room. I run my hands on the counter tops; they are copper with indentations as if someone took a hammer to them. I suppose it is to give them a rustic feeling. There is a sitting room with yet another fireplace to the left, and to the right there is an eating nook. The kitchen cupboards are white with glass doors, but the center piece is obviously the not too distant mountains.

The mountains seem to appear from nowhere, covered with white powdery snow, dotted with massive trees and red rocks here and there. I walk to the glass double doors that go to a wooden deck and see the river, running against some rocks and white frozen sheets breaking at the contact.