Charlie rode shotgun beside Reece, and he glanced at her over his shoulder. “You got somewhere to stay tonight, sweetheart? ’Cause we’re on the only road in and out of Fall River, and even if you had a working vehicle, which you don’t, you wouldn’t be able to get through.”
A new reality suddenly bobbed to the surface of her molasses-like brain. “Will I be able to get home to Montrose tomorrow?” She had a shit ton of work waiting for her, as usual, because herassistant, who’d schmoozed his way into being hercolleague, had recently transformed himself into herboss. Shestilldidn’t know how Cliff had pulled it off, but he was a glad-hander, a coalition-builder, a credit-taker, and as far from a workload-reducer as a person could get.
Charlie’s eyes suddenly brightened, and he turned to Reece. “I know where she can stay. I’m almost done at the Loose Moose. It’s got a working kitchen, one of the bathrooms is finished, and the bedroom’s furnished. Most importantly, there’s heat and running water. I don’t think the Freemans would mind if she stayed there until the roads open.”
“Call them,” Noah ordered.
Hailey gaped. “What’s a ‘loose moose’?” She pictured an escaped moose with loose bowels running around the town. “And who are the Freemans?”
Noah gave her knee a reassuring pat. “Some local folks who own an old miner’s bungalow in town that Charlie’s been working on. They’re getting it ready for short-term rental in the spring. It’s vacant.” She must have looked confused because he continued. “Charlie’s a contractor. He restores historic buildings.”
Okay, so no moose—or was that mooses? Meese?—running amok. Instead, the image of a dingy, dark log cabin interior with one opaque window popped into her head. But stranded people couldn’t be choosy, she reminded herself. As long as it had heat, she would welcome a place to stay until the town dug itself out. Except the dog …
“What about Rover? Can I keep him there?”
Charlie turned in his seat. “’Fraid not. But he needs to go to the vet regardless so they can check him out and keep an eye on him. We’ll figure out what to do with him after that.”
Charlie believed the dog would recover, didn’t he? She clung to his optimism, letting it lift her soggy spirits as they zigged and zagged through twisting snow-packed roads. When they finally descended into a flat plane, Fall River and its compact grid pattern came into view. The thick white blanket covering it and the iron-gray sky pressing on top of it made it seem more bedraggled than she had remembered.
The tires crunched over snow as the truck eased along Bowen Street. Stores and restaurants that reminded her of a Western movie set stood shoulder to shoulder, their doors and windows locked up tight. A man in tan coveralls and a red beanie shoveled snow from a sidewalk. He glanced up and waved as they rolled past, and the brothers waved back. Other than that lone soul, the place could have been a ghost town.
At the end of a half-dozen blocks, Reece turned onto a narrow track beside a giant blue spruce. On the other side of the tree stood a mustard-yellow bungalow with black shutters and a cranberry-colored front door. Charlie hopped out to unlock it while Hailey said good-bye to Rover, whose big, frightened eyes locked on her. He whimpered, twanging the strings of her heart.
She scratched the top of his grimy head. “It’s all right, buddy. These guys will take care of you, okay?”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she tore them away, hoisting her backpack and thanking Reece for the millionth time. Noah grabbed the duffel they’d retrieved from her broken-down 4Runner, and she followed him out of the truck. She paused at the front door, which now stood ajar, and took in a whimsical wooden sign that read, “The Loose Moose,” with a moose’s head painted on one side. The animal appeared to be either smiling or drunk.
Inside, Charlie was busily turning on lights, testing faucets, and fiddling with the thermostat. The interior was airy and bright and nothing like the dark cabin of her imagination. Beyond that, she barely noticed the charming details in the quaint miner’s house that was her home for the night. When Charlie led her to the upstairs bedroom loft, her prime concern became how quickly she could collapse in the fluffy queen-sized bed.
Back downstairs, he handed her a key. “You should be all set. Just don’t use the downstairs bathroom because it’s still under construction. The owners are fine with you staying here as many nights as you need.” He gave her a little wave and headed out the door.
Noah tapped her arm. “You get some rest, okay?” He gave her a warm smile that left her insides gooey.
She had run out of ways to thank him for keeping her alive—and for not mentioning the dog-dash-ending-in-a-car-crash thing. Looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for a hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his neck and released him.
He pulled back, clearly flustered, and shrugged. “It’s what folks here do. We look out for each other.” After a beat, he added, “Sweet dreams, Hailey Bailey,” and closed the door on his way out.
Running on fumes, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and shed her clothes. The bazillion-count cotton sheets glided across her skin as she located that perfect spot under the thick comforter. Goldilocks’s adventures in the home of the three bears danced through her head as she drifted off into glorious slumber.
Hailey dreamed Goldie was knocking on the bears’ front door, and she couldn’t understand why the audacious girl didn’t simply walk in and test out the chairs and the porridge. Hadn’t she studied her own fairy tale? But no, this knucklehead knocked and knocked.
Hailey was yanked from her free-floating bliss by a voice calling, “Hello? Anyone home?”
Definitely not Goldilocks.
Panic sluiced through her veins like ice-cold river water, and she shot upright, clasping the covers to her unclad body. Daylight had turned to twilight.
“H-hello?” she called back, unsure if she was talking to a hallucination or a real intruder. Wrapping a quilt around herself, she crept to the railing and looked down.
A familiar woman with brassy blond Texas hair and sparkly blue eyeshadow had let herself into the living room below. She looked up and grinned as if her presence was the most natural thing in the world, apparently nonplussed by Hailey’s state of sleep and undress. “Just brought you a little dinner, hon. I’m sure you’re all tuckered out, what with your big adventure and all, and since the market and pretty much everything else is closed, the boss thought you could use something to warm your belly. Tonight’s special is his mama’s own chicken pot pie, so you enjoy. It is dee-licious.” She disappeared, her voice trailing after her. Sounds of the fridge and oven doors, accompanied by a few beeps, came from the kitchen.
Hailey’s mind raced. If the woman was real and not some apparition from Hailey’s snowstorm-fevered imagination, it would be rude to stay upstairs, wouldn’t it? Then again, it was pretty rude to barge into someone’s home, temporary or otherwise.
Hailey scrambled into her jeans and top and scurried down the stairs as the woman closed the refrigerator door and turned to her. “I’m Dixie, from the Miners Tavern.”
Identity confirmed, though it didn’t explain why the bar’s hostess was standing in Hailey’s kitchen in a parka over a leopard-print top and jeans that barely contained her ample hips and thighs.
