Hard Winter – Jace Wilder

He sat up, blinking in the morning light. The cabin was warmer than it had been—the fire was roaring, and sunlight streamed through the windows. Real, actual sunlight. The storm had broken. Julian’s heart sank even as relief flooded through him. The storm breaking meant decisions. It meant reality. It meant facing all the things they’d talked about yesterday but hadn’t quite resolved. He climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The world was buried under at least four feet of snow, everything rounded and softened and blindingly white.

The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. Beautiful. And terrifying. Outside, he could see Cade splitting firewood. Despite his injured knee, he moved with practiced efficiency, the axe swinging in a smooth arc. His breath came out in clouds of vapor. He’d been out there a while, from the size of the pile. Julian pulled on his clothes—still wearing Cade’s flannel because it was warmer and, admittedly, because it smelled like him—and headed outside.

The cold hit him like a physical force. It had to be well below zero. His breath crystallized immediately. “You’re going to freeze,” Cade called, not pausing in his work. “Get back inside.” “I wanted to help.” “You don’t know how to split wood.” “Then teach me.” Cade paused mid-swing, looking at him. “You want to learn to split wood.”

“I want to learn how to survive here. If I’m staying, I need to pull my weight.” Julian crossed his arms, shivering. “And you said it yourself—if I’m staying for winter, I need to know how things work.” Something softened in Cade’s expression. He drove the axe into the stump and beckoned Julian over.

“Alright. First lesson: never go outside in winter without proper layers. You’ll lose fingers to frostbite in twenty minutes dressed like that.” “So get me proper layers.” Cade huffed what might have been a laugh and headed back to the cabin. He returned with his spare coat—which hung huge on Julian—and an extra pair of work gloves.

“Better. Now, come here.” He positioned Julian in front of the stump and placed the axe in his hands. Then he moved behind him, his body bracketing Julian’s, his hands covering Julian’s on the handle. “It’s not about strength,” Cade’s voice was low in his ear. “It’s about precision.

You want to find the weak point in the wood—see that crack?— and aim for it. Let the weight of the axe do the work.” He guided Julian through the motion. The axe came down, and the log split cleanly in two. “Good. Again.” They repeated it several times, Cade’s body warm and solid behind him, his hands steady over Julian’s. It was practical.

Educational. And also incredibly hot. “You’re doing it on purpose,” Julian said. “Doing what?” “Being all competent and instructive. Showing me how strong you are. The whole ‘let me teach you, baby’ thing.”

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher or the author, except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS Title Page Copyright Chapter One: The Storm & The Stray Chapter Two: Waking Up Chapter Three: The Cold Chapter Four: The Wolf at the Door Chapter Five: The Thaw Chapter Six: Cabin Fever Chapter Seven: The Morning After Chapter Eight: The Break Chapter Nine: Building Something Real Chapter Ten: Fish Out of Water Chapter Eleven: The Town Visit Chapter Twelve: Facing the Past Chapter Thirteen: The Nightmare Epilogue: Home A Note From The Author OceanofPDF.com CHAPTER ONE: THE STORM & THE STRAY CADE The fence post had been loose since September.

Cade had known it, had felt it give under his gloved hand every time he’d checked the north perimeter, but there’d always been something more urgent. A calf with pinkeye. The hay baler breaking down. The endless, grinding work of keeping a ranch alive when you were doing it alone. Now, with the sky turning the color of a fresh bruise and the wind changing direction every thirty seconds, he was paying for that procrastination.

He sank the post-hole digger into the half-frozen ground, feeling the jarring impact travel up through his shoulders. Fifty-two years old, and his body still did what he asked of it. Mostly. The cold made his knuckles ache, and his right knee clicked when he crouched—a souvenir from a bad fall three winters back that had never quite healed right.

Each impact of the digger sent a dull throb through the joint. Getting old, he thought grimly. Not slowing down yet, but the warning signs were there. “Getting soft,” he muttered to himself, jamming the digger down again. The wind snatched the words away. He’d sent the seasonal hands home three days ago, before the weather turned. Miguel had wanted to stay, had argued that Cade shouldn’t winter alone at North Camp, but Cade had been firm.

The line cabin was provisioned for one. Always had been. He preferred it that way—nobody asking questions, nobody needing conversation, nobody watching him with that careful look people got when they thought you were getting too isolated. He wasn’t isolated. He was alone. There was a difference. The post went in solid on the third try.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 3eb806677a0af44e
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,274,508 bytes (1.215 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 106
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 151.51 minutes
• Total Words: 30,303
• Total Characters: 174,965
• Average Words per Page: 285.88
• Average Characters per Page: 1650.61

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