Chapter 2

Being alone with my thoughts for hours on end did weird things to my brain. Not unpleasant—I liked being alone—but weird. The spotless snow covered the road, untouched and unspoiled. It crept up the tree trunks and weighed down the branches. How many shades of white existed? But it wasn't white. If I pinpointed the hues, there'd be pale blues and steely grays, green and cream, and dark-blue shadows where the snow had piled up. It looked so clean, the mud and rotting leaves hidden under the pristine blanket.

I felt like a villain at the head of a ruthless army of barbarians as I plowed through the gorgeousness, destroying everything in my way.

Then I laughed at myself. Some days when I sat behind the tractor wheel, I would turn into a little kid. I would never tell anyone out loud, but driving a snowplow was cool as hell.

I steered the machine to the very edge of the road. Piles of snow tumbled down the slope between trees, flurries rising like mist. I backed up a few meters and dragged the plow over the ground more to the right. I left a clear turning point behind, big enough for an SUV to maneuver around. Out here in the forest, the road was protected from the worst winds, so hopefully, I wouldn't have to come back tomorrow. In other parts of the village, I had to plow every day this week because of snow drifts growing after only a few hours.

The old yellow-painted house standing among the overgrown apple trees would have looked abandoned if it weren't for the thin line of smoke rising from the chimney. I stopped and turned off the motor. Gauzy curtains obscured the windows, no sign of life anywhere. Old man Henke rarely ever came out during winter. I wondered if I should knock, but he must have heard the plow. If he wanted to chat, he would have at least come to the window, right?

His dog, Selma, came running from behind the house. She must have been roaming the forest on her own.

"Hi, girl. How's your master? Is he napping?"

I scratched her ear, and she wriggled happily. She was a mix of a Husky with a little bit of German Shepherd and a lot of street mutt. In her thick, fluffy fur, she was thriving in this weather. I petted her for a minute, glancing at the house. The stillness made me uneasy.

"Henke isn't keen on visitors today, huh? Peter will be here soon with groceries. You'll be fine."

The clever dog watched me climb back into the tractor and sat dutifully on the side of the plowed road as I drove away.

We rarely got this much snow in April. It happened here and there that the ground would turn white for one morning, but everything would melt into slush by the end of the day. The past week, we'd had more snowfall than all of February, and it would stick around for a while. Since the municipality only took care of the public streets, I cleared the private roads on our property, plus the small lanes leading to some of our neighbors' houses. The two-kilometer stretch through the forest toward Henke's home would be my last stretch for today.

As I drove back past Gustaf's cottage, I did not try to catch another glimpse of the new teacher. Eric was his name, an American of all things. A young, attractive man had moved into the village, and he happened to be openly gay—which didn't concern me at all. The gossip had been at an all-time high, though.

I left the tractor by the barn, ready for tomorrow, and walked up to the main house. I hung my jacket on a hook in the hall, shook off my boots before putting them on the rack to dry, and went to the kitchen. Madde was at home, sorting through the dishwasher. I kissed her cheek and headed straight to the coffee maker.

"Hi, teddy bear. Did you see Henke?"

The nickname. Only Madde could get away with calling me that. "Selma was in the yard, so I petted her. But Henke didn't come out. If he had the TV on, he might not have heard me."

Madde gave me a sad look. "You could have knocked."

"I'm not sure he likes me all that much."

"Why wouldn't he?"

I shrugged.

"Yes, he and your father were friends," she said. "But that doesn't mean he agreed with everything your father did."

"I didn't want him to feel obligated just because I'm plowing his road."

She tsked. "I'm sure he would have loved to see you."

"He doesn't see, Madde."

Rolling her eyes, she swatted my shoulder. "You're such a brat sometimes. You know what I mean." Then she sighed and closed the empty dishwasher with her knee. "I wonder why he's still out there when his wife has a perfectly nice apartment in Lund."

"Maybe she doesn't want him there."

"Pish. She does. I talked to her in the summer; she keeps trying to convince him to move down south with her. Henke's eyesight is nearly gone now, but he refuses to sell the house."

"It's beautiful out there in the woods right now. I can't blame him."

"As you've cleverly pointed out, it's not like he can appreciate the view anymore, can he?"

"He's lived there all his life." I shrugged. I felt a kinship with Henke in his stubbornness. I wouldn't be leaving our farm either. I'd tried, but I'd always come back.

"His pipes froze in January," Madde said.

I grabbed my coffee and sat at the table, pulling out my phone. "If his wife can't convince him, nobody can. The only way he'll leave that house will be with a sheet over his body."

I scrolled down the news, wrinkling my nose. There wasn't a faster way to ruin my mood, but with the elections in the fall, I felt obligated to at least skim the main outlets.

"So, the new teacher, Eric, started today," Madde began.

A loud banging on the door sounded from the hall, interrupting her. She went to open it, and then I heard Inger's raspy voice.

"Hello, Madde. Oh, Bj?rn! Hello." Puffing, she untied her boots and unzipped her jacket. "I'm not going to stay long. I brought the cookie cutters you lent me. I can't believe I've had them since December. Sorry about that."

When Inger turned to hang her parka, Madde rolled her eyes at me, and I swallowed a chuckle.

"Do you want coffee, Inger? Bj?rn just made a cup, so the machine is still warm."

"You have the fancy one with a built-in grinder. I'll never say no to that."

She plonked her heavy body onto a chair and wiped her forehead with her scarf. Madde picked a mug, and the coffee maker rumbled.

"The American won't last until winter," Inger said without preamble, assessing Madde with her flinty eyes.

The recruitment of the new teacher was Madde's work, and she was excited about the guy. Of course, Inger would go out of her way to visit today and shit on that.

"I don't understand why he bought the house," she continued. "It needs so much work. And he has no idea what he's doing. Can you imagine a gay man from the city taking care of that cottage?" She blinked at me. "No offense. You're not like that."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Olaf and Fredrik are renovating their house. They added solar panels to the barn roof, did you see?"

"That won't ever pay off." Inger's thin, wrinkly lips curved into a sneer. She wasn't a fan of the resident gay couple, which was why I'd brought them up. She wasn't even homophobic. Olaf and Fredrik weren't from around here, and that was enough reason to dislike them. "But that young man. He came in this morning in fancy shoes, a shirt, and a suit jacket." She cackled. "A suit!"

"He's charming, Inger," Madde said. "The kids were so excited, and he was great with them. Did you see how he handled the scuffle by the lockers at lunch break?"

Inger waved her hand. "He could be a good teacher. I'm not saying he isn't. But why on earth would he move out here? And buy a cottage? Can he even own a house in Sweden as an American citizen?"

Madde was getting more annoyed by the second. "He has dual citizenship. Not that it's any of our concern."

"I saw him this morning on his way to work," I said. Madde flashed me a curious grin. "He seems nice enough."

And cute. He got adorably flustered when he got stuck in the snow this afternoon.

But I wouldn't get any ideas just because one gay man appeared in the neighborhood. No ideas. Not a single one.

After an awkward pause, Inger snorted. "That must have been quite the sight. He came in with his shoes wet through and through and his teeth chattering."

"Well, I like him," Madde stated. "I hope he stays for a few years at least."

Inger shook her head, her expression grave. "No chance. Mark my words."

Usually, Madde would chat with Inger for a while. Inger could get bitter and downright evil sometimes, but Madde had a way with everyone. Not today. She kept her sentences short and didn't sit down until Inger took the hint and wished us goodnight.

"You've met Eric already? Why didn't you say something?" Madde asked when she came back to the kitchen.

"When? I came home, and the next second, the Spanish Inquisition was here."

She laughed. "Inger is such a pain. Poor Eric. She threatened him with mice five minutes after meeting him."

"He's got a pile of work in front of him. Inger's right about that. When I drove by with the plow, I helped him clear his parking place. He looked stressed."

Madde gave me her most determined glare. "I told him we were here to help."

Palms up, I nodded. "Like I said, I already dug out his car from the snow."

"Good man." Madde ruffled my hair like she did when I was a kid. I used to hate that, but now I soaked her affection up like a sponge.

"Do we have the energy to cook tonight?" I asked.

Her smile wilted a little. "Must we?"

"I'll reheat something from the freezer."