He had the roof half shoveled when he discovered the problem. The heat wave last week had melted some of the snow, but the cold snap had refrozen it into layers of ice. The liquid had been trapped under that layer and found the unsealed rivets in the roof.

The rivets had then rusted and weakened, and the weight of the snow and ice that had built up underneath had simply collapsed the roof. Hence, Niagara in his bedroom.

He finished shoveling, ignoring the growl in his stomach, and then climbed down, got a sledgehammer, and used it to gently tap at the ice buildup under the snow. He cleared the roof of that too, and the sun began to heat the rest, turning the roof a rich, beautiful red.

Except for the gaping hole over his bedroom.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad. He could patch it until spring.

He climbed down the ladder, returned to the toolshed, and found a tarp.

At least it would stop the snow from getting in. He’d go to town, pick up some sheet metal, and get the gap repaired by tonight.

In truth, however, the entire roof needed to be replaced. And probably the roofs on the rest of the cabins. And snow guards added.

And while he was at it, he’d replace the insulation in the ceiling, and maybe add an instant water heater to the bathroom. He was tired of lukewarm showers, the hot water heater making a mere dent in the frigid cold from the lake.

All the cabins needed new decks, too. Most of them sagged with the snow weight.

At the thought, he cleaned off the deck of his cabin.

His stomach made him call it quits, and he went inside and opened the fridge. Of course he was out of eggs. And milk. Maybe he should swing by his dad’s place and see if he was running low on perishable grub too.

He went in his cabin and put on a pot of water to boil. At least he still had ramen noodles. He’d upped his game at ramen over the years, adding fried bacon, onion, mushrooms, and an egg to the mix, but it still felt like bachelor food.

While he waited, he cleaned up the mess in his room, stripping the bed. He’d made a meager but decent home of the small cabin. With one bedroom, a woodstove, a small kitchen, a tiny bathroom, and a sofa, the place was also stocked with books and got cell reception most of the time.

His water boiled, and he moved the pot off the stove, added the pack of spicy noodles he’d found at Gigi’s. He put a top on the pan to let them sit and walked over to the window.

The sky seemed clear, but he spotted a dark thickening of clouds stirring over the mountains.

Storm.