He was comfortable in the woods.
Other than hearing one tail slap, they didn’t see any beavers, but when they arrived back at the parking lot, James gave Ellen his best smile. “That was fun.”
“It was. Thank you for taking me.”
James shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to do something with me again sometime?”
Ellen smiled back. “I think I’d like that.”
“Do you have plans for lunch?”
“No.”
“I don’t either, I was just going to go dig some leftovers out of the fridge, but if you want to come over, I could whip up some spaghetti or something?”
“I like spaghetti,” Ellen said quietly.
“Well, why don’t you follow me back to my house, it’s just up the road about five minutes.”
“Okay.”
Ellen got into her car and waited while James turned his truck around, then turned so she could follow him. He only made one turn off the main road before signalling at a driveway. Ellen parked behind his truck and got out, surveying the surroundings. “This is a nice place,” she mused as James walked back toward her.
“Thank you. I like it a lot.”
The log house was rustic, but looked spacious from the outside. A covered porch stretched from one side to the other and red Adirondack chairs sat on either side of the door. James led her up the stone pathway to the door and held it open for her.
“Do you not lock your house?” Ellen asked, a little surprised.
“Up here? Nope. There’s no need really.” James followed her inside. “It gets a little busy in the summer with all the tourists, but it’s not like anyone is going to rob me.” He hung up his coat, and put his foot up on a nearby bench to unlace his boot.
Ellen knelt down to unlace her own boots. By the time she took them off, James had already ventured across the house to the kitchen.
“Make yourself at home,” he told her. “I’ll see if I can come up with some food. Hiking makes me really hungry.”
Ellen crossed the house to where James was rummaging in a cupboard. It was an open concept house. The living room was to the left of the entranceway, with a huge bay window overlooking the lake. The kitchen was beside the living room. Doors on the right side of the house suggested bedrooms.
“Can I help you with something?”
“If you can find some cheese in the fridge, you can grate it for the spaghetti,” James replied. He found a pot, and filled it with hot water from the tap. “It should be in the little drawer in the bottom.” James placed the pot on the stove.
Ellen found a partial block of cheese, and James got her a plate, and cheese grater.
“I’m obviously sorta a bachelor here, so I’m sorry it’s not neater,” James said.
“It looks fine to me. This is a nice place.” There were a few unwashed dishes in the sink, and a few more clean dishes that had obviously been drying on the rack. Things were plain, but James didn’t seem like an untidy person.
James leaned a hip against the counter, waiting for the water to boil. “Yeah, it was my grandparent’s place. Eventually just got to the point that Grandma needed more care then I could provide, so she had to move.” His eyes held a faraway look for a moment, and Ellen wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t ask.
The water boiled, and James took out a package