Deep Freeze Christmas by Marian P. Merritt Page A

Each step was a large log cut in half. Once upstairs, wide pine planks covered the floor of the expansive hallway that ran along the west side of the house in both the north and south wings. They stopped at the end of the North hallway. He opened the door on the east side. "Miss Buquet, this is your room. Julian you're across the way. I'll let you freshen up. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs. The housekeeper, Mrs. McCaffrey, can also help you. She'll be here later today."
    Leona entered her room and placed her suitcase on the holder next to the log post bed. The multicolored quilt of burgundy, green, blue, and cream-colored squares covering the bed matched the curtains, and a hanging miniature version adorned the wall above the bed.
    She peered out the window. The view took her breath. The snow-covered peak towered above the lodge with deep green Douglas fir dotting its base. Several pines grew near her window, their branches reaching out toward the lodge. The pristine snow covered the ground and sparkled in the midday sun. A river, frozen on the sides, flowed along the curves and over large boulders.
    She took in the sight and then jotted a few notes in her journal. When she described CG on her pages, there was something about him—something familiar. She'd have to ask Julian how he knew him. Once she’d freshened up and changed, she met Julian down in the kitchen.
    "How many are we feeding?" she asked.
    Julian reviewed the guest list and counted off the names. "It looks like five guests, CG, his son, Cameron, and the housekeeper, Mrs. McCaffery. So with us two, that's ten mouths to feed every day. Three meals. You up for it?"
    "Am I up for it? Really, Chef? This is a dream job chefs live for."
    He grinned. "Oh yeah, over a week of isolation, cold weather, cookin' in the Rocky Mountains for a bunch of spoiled rich people. Dat's a dream, all right."
    "C'mon, Chef, tell me how you really feel." Leona began unpacking their gear and placing the items where they would find them for dinner tonight. "Why'd you take this job if you don't want to do this?"
    "Because I've known CG for over twenty years, and he's been a good friend. I couldn't say no when he asked." His tone softened. Chef Julian opened the glass doors and began rearranging the items in the refrigerator. "Besides he's not a spoiled brat rich dude, and he's paying us a boatload of money. I can get that new ice cream maker we talked about and a few other things for the restaurant. And you, my dear, will be a few thousand closer to getting your own restaurant."
    Leona smiled. Yes, she would be closer to rebuilding Leo's. The restaurant her grandmother, Leona, had opened and run along the lake near New Orleans. Her father had taken the reins and run it for years. When Leona graduated from the Louisiana Culinary Institute she was in line to take over and allow her father to retire.
    But Hurricane Katrina changed their plans. The restaurant had been totally destroyed and the insurance money hadn’t been enough to rebuild. So all she owned right now was a cement slab with a nice view of Lake Pontchartrain.
    Leona opened her laptop and brought up their menu for the coming week. "How do you know CG?"
    "He used to live in Louisiana. He helped me open my first restaurant."
    "Really?" She lifted the culinary torch from the gear bag. They'd need it for the crème bruleé tonight.
    "That's another reason I brought you along. If you impress him, he might be interested in investin' in another restaurant. Not that I need you as competition."
    She placed her hands together and bowed to him. In a deep reverent voice she said, "You know, oh great, wise Chef Julian, that I could never compete with you."
    "Great, we've been here less than two hours and the sass and disrespect has already started. Ay, yi, yi, it's going to be a long week." His dark eyes twinkled, and his silly grin offset the dark goatee dotted with gray.
    She laughed. "You're such a drama queen."
    He winked at