6
After Maya finished kicking his ass on the golf course, Nate drove back to his house, which sat atop a nearby hill like some kind of pioneer fortress ready to take on an invading army.
When his parents, who were adventure-seekers with a small inheritance, had first chosen to move to Lost Harbor, they’d hired a helicopter to fly them around the area. They’d chosen the Hilltop Homestead location, as they called it, for its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views.
Being completely new to Alaska, they hadn’t thought about what the roads would be like in the winter. Or what it would take to heat it with all those floor-to-ceiling picture windows. Nate and his brothers had learned how to chop wood starting at age five. He still spent a good amount of time every autumn chain-sawing the dead spr
