Bradley had wanted her to join him, but she wanted to visit her dad at the hospital, and then the fire house paperwork and roster called. Dad would want to know about the recent call, as well. She wanted to see the chief, but she really wanted to see Bradley.
What’s up with that?
Investigating the broken lamp post and the water still dripping off the singed roofs, she figured they were no longer a danger to the public. She’d make sure the power company got a full description of the smashed post, so they could fix it before the Christmas Festival. The whole idea was for the entire town to look its best. Any affected shop owners should notify their insurance companies. Charred gutters would not be an eyesore if covered by snow.
The sun beat down on her neck where her bunker gear had slid down her shoulders. Pulling the coat up, she headed toward her Dad’s truck. Slipping it off, she threw the heavy coat into the rear seat of the club cab and ran her fingers through her hair. At least she wasn’t covered in mud. The sunshine wasn’t welcome, however. She sensed that the air temperature must have risen ten degrees since she had arrived at the scene.
She wanted to talk to Bradley, but she had other responsibilities, not to mention a dinner date at eight. First things first…the fire house. Regrouping with the crew would be a time-consuming chore, one her father generally enjoyed. With him out of commission, it was up to her to make sure everyone was uninjured, all supplies were back on the truck, and that the crew and fire engine were ready for the next call.
She’d squeeze in a visit to her Dad, next. He should be getting out of the hospital if he could convince the medical staff he was fit enough. She already lived with him, so would be at his beck and call until she returned his official truck and the white Chief’s fire helmet to him.
She prayed he would only need a little assistance at home. Maybe a cane and a walking cast? His ankle was merely sprained. He’d be back in charge in the blink of an eye.
After she heard the final diagnosis from the doctors, she’d put in a call to the town’s insurance agents to see if he could get home care, since he’d been injured on the job.
Then there was the Christmas Festival.
She wanted to scream, but until she could find a minute to herself, she had to pretend she was an upstanding citizen, a vital member of the fire department, and a loving daughter.
I should call a meeting of the committee and make a final decision about the festival.
Maybe they should cut their losses and plan a spring festival. Of course, with her luck, a hurricane would shut them down.
***
Bradley told Officer Jackson what he had seen and heard as the accident happened, and what the older gentleman said, once he had reached his side. “No, the driver did not act impaired. I assumed he had slid on ice. The sidewalk was slick as glass.”
The officer questioned such a description, until Bradley told him about Elinor’s mishap on the sidewalk. As he described how he had caught her before her rear end hit the pavement, Rudy laughed.
“Did her cheeks turn red and her crew laugh?” Jackson asked.
“Yes.” Trying to change the subject he said, “The road looked as if it had a sheen to it.”
Jackson told him, “Up here we call that black ice. When the temperature dips quickly, moisture in the air or dripping off car bumpers turns to a thin sheet of slippery-as-a-piglet ice. Hard to see, worse to drive on. Glad he didn’t hit anyone or crash into the store. I’d miss my muffins. Ellie didn’t look too happy.”
“I was perturbed at the way the other firefighters acted toward her, especially Sean Peabody.”
“Sean? Well, I guess whatever he said turned her head. Heard he’s taking her to dinner tonight.” As the officer gathered his notes and stopped at the counter for a cup of coffee, Bradley sank back in his chair.
“She’s dating him?” Had Bradley read her expression wrong? He would swear in court she had flirted with him, not Sean Peabody. Then, why was she was going to dinner with the innkeeper? Not wanting to see or hear anymore, especially from the innkeeper, he ordered a sandwich and a coffee to go, then returned to his room at the inn. He would stay locked in his room and ignore dinner with the other guests.
As early as he could, he would return to the bookstore for breakfast and to get some work done. Once the garage was open, he would check with the mechanic to see if he had heard from the rental car agency.
Their email said that they planned to deliver a car on a flatbed tow truck, then take the totaled vehicle back with them. Until then, he was on foot, which was not too bad. As long as he kept away from Sean and Elinor, he might get some work accomplished. Mona, being a fantastic administrative assistant, had faxed the papers he had lost in the pond to Sarah Jane’s bookstore.
As he prepared to relax for the rest of the night, and maybe read a few chapters from the western novel he had purchased, he heard a familiar voice. He sneaked a peek from the doorway of his room at the top of the stairs. Sean barked at one of his staff. The man was insufferable, and Bradley assumed Elinor might have something to do with his mood.
If I was contemplating enjoying a date with Elinor, I would be smiling from ear to ear.
Bradley returned to his room and took a short nap, which was also out of character. Waking ravenous, he downed his sandwich and swallowed his cold coffee, then heard Sean’s voice again.
Spying on others was not Bradley’s style, but the man irritated him. The blond innkeeper was dressed in a suit and tie, which he assumed was out of character for Sean, as much as a flannel plaid shirt and jeans were to him.
Sean opened the door, then turned to his assistant innkeeper, a mousy little woman. She looked like the woman introduced to him by another guest as the cook. Double duty? Was the man so cheap?
“Don’t expect me back too early, or maybe not at all. With luck, Ellie will invite me to stay!” He whirled around, disappeared out the door, and the assistant rushed to shut it in his wake.
Shock was followed by a sense of jealousy that made his fists clench, and his head ache.
Elinor was going out with the bastard, who thought she might invite him into her bed?
His simple dinner sat heavy in his gut as he thought of what Sean planned to do with or, worse, to Elinor. There was nothing he could do but clear his head of all images of a naked Elinor and ignore such thoughts until his replacement car arrived. Then he would remove himself from her vicinity, and enjoy the redhead lounging at a spa in Montreal.
If she is still waiting for me.
Chapter 7
Elinor had dodged a bullet. Sean had decided to share dinner at a small upscale diner near the hospital. Slightly out of town, but near enough to home, should she need to escape. By the mixture of suits and lab coats on the diners filling the tables, the place was an obvious favorite of doctors and other hospital staff.
She had insisted on meeting him there, using the excuse that with her father in the hospital, she was expected to respond to any and all fire calls in Snowflake Valley, so she told him she needed to drive there with the chief’s truck. Sean had argued, but she persevered. He’d finally agreed, and she knew she’d made the right choice.
He'd dressed in a navy-blue suit, white shirt, and a yellow tie. His blond hair, slicked back and still damp, made her glad she had found five minutes to shower and wash her own hair. She had done her best to look decent. Dresses were not part of her wardrobe, but she’d discovered a pair of black silk slacks and topped it with a red scoop-neck sweater that sported peek-a-boo cutouts down both sleeves.
A swipe of blusher and a quick stroke of red lipstick made the image in her bathroom mirror appear grown up. She wished Bradley could see her now. She sensed she looked better than a muddy mess. He would never confuse her with a mud-covered firefighter in clunky bunker gear tonight. Had he ever seen her with make-up?
Nope.
She and Sean were seated at a corner booth in the antique diner, away from the other patrons. She sipped wine which t
asted like vinegar to her palate. She made sure to order an inexpensive pasta dish with a salad. He helped himself to a steak and a loaded baked potato. She nibbled on the bread the server had provided while thinking of how she had gotten into this predicament.
The meal continued, while Sean’s foot entwined with her calf and one hand kept settling on hers. His gaze grew stormy and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She worried he would want to follow her home. Their conversation grew intense, with innuendo making her wish for the night to end. She did her best to move their talk to a safe topic such as the Christmas Festival.
“Yeah, you probably ought to cancel the whole darn thing. Why throw good money after bad?” he said as he shoveled another forkful of steak into his mouth.
“Well, some people think that even without snow, we can run some activities and make a little money.”
“It’s not going to snow, so I don’t plan on footing the bill for a festival that gets washed out.”
She understood what he meant. Paying to advertise his business while no one came to stay at his B&B made little sense. Unfortunately, advertising was a big part of their fundraising effort.
“When’s the city slicker heading home?”
“What? Oh, Bradley Wainwright? I have no idea. I suppose when a new rental car shows up.” Maybe then he’d continue on his trip to Montreal and his anonymous rendezvous.
“I suppose you enjoy his attention, with his big-city ways and money-filled pockets.”
She was too hurt by his accusations to respond. Instead, she thought of a more familiar topic.
“When I last talked to your brother, he was trying to think of a way to make money on those trees he couldn’t deliver while adding to the festivities. Any idea on what he could do?” she asked. Slipping her hand free, she raised her untouched wine goblet to her lips.
“I don’t care what Greg does. The farm should be sold. Too much work, and not enough income.”
She was shocked he felt that way. “But your brother loves his trees! I heard he wants to expand and take advantage of a grove of maple trees.”
“Making maple syrup costs money for tools, lines, buckets, and a sap house complete with a boiler. No way am I sinking any of our meager profits into that.”
The distaste for his brother’s ideas worried Ellie. If Greg and Sarah Jane ever realized they were made for each other, the tree farm would be something both could improve.
“Enough about my brother. You and I—”
Her pager shrieked from inside her clutch purse.
“Excuse the interruption,” she said as she rushed down the hall toward the restrooms.
The announcement squawked in the empty back hall. “Snowflake Valley PD received a report of a lost hiker on Windswept Mountain. Ambulance 1, Rescue 2, meet at Zephyr Trailhead parking area to stage. State Police K-9 unit has been advised. Time of your tone 20:45.
Although she wanted to jump for joy, she held her feelings in check. Someone, somewhere, was experiencing a horrible evening, yet here was her escape route. Sean could not expect her to ignore the call. He wouldn’t respond because they had not requested help from the fire department. As acting fire chief, she could tell Sean that she had to go, in case the crew were needed later. A lost hiker could mean searching all night. She needed to rush home and change into suitable search and rescue clothing.
She walked slowly back to their table. “Sean, I have to leave. I am so sorry.”
He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “Wait a minute. My pager didn’t go off.”
“Mine did. As acting Chief, I am required to respond to every call. Dad enjoyed that aspect of the position. Not me. Again, I am so sorry.”
She gathered her clutch, kissed him on the cheek, and walked as fast as her heels would take her out of the diner. At least she had managed to nearly finish her dinner. She’d usually curse not having a chance to try a fancy dessert, but getting free of Sean Peabody was worth the sacrifice. Once she had arrived at her truck, she hopped into the cab as best she could in heels, started the engine, backed out, and raced home.
The house was dark. Entering, she flipped on the hall light, kicked off her heels, and ran to her room. The silence was eerie.
I miss my dad.
She slipped on the appropriate clothes. Her jeans, cotton tank top, flannel shirt, wool socks and hat, and matching gloves would keep her warm. She locked the door behind her and was about to throw a pair of snowshoes into the truck, when she stopped in her tracks.
What am I thinking? No need, since there’s no snow.
They couldn’t track the hiker using snowmobiles, either. A trek up the mountain through mud and uneven terrain might be in order. Darkness would make the search dangerous, even with compact headlights strapped to their hats. Perhaps a tracking dog might join in the search. The State Police have a K-9 unit and the emergency dispatcher requested the troopers and their bloodhounds head to the trailhead, too.
Leaving home, she headed through town while she waited for an update on her fire department radio. There was no need to return to the fire house. Everyone heard the same announcement. Those on duty as part of the rescue team, an off-shoot of the fire department who were either full-timers or volunteers, would meet up in the large parking area that marked the beginning of the Zephyr Trail.
She slid to a stop outside her sister’s store. Bradley stood in the road, his hands waving in the air. When he walked to the passenger side, she lowered the window.
“What are you doing? I could have driven over you.”
“But you didn’t. Where is the fire?”
“Fire? No fire.”
“Several people who I recognize as firefighters headed in the same direction at a fast clip, with little red bubble lights on their vehicles.”
“They’re part of the rescue squad. We got a report of a lost hiker.”
“Where is your dinner date?” Bradley opened the passenger door and hopped inside.
“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Tell me all about the rescue call on the way.” His smirk was infuriating, but she was in a hurry. If he found himself stuck at the trailhead for three hours with no way back to town, so be it.
“Why are you downtown this late at night? Most of the stores are closed.”
He sighed. She started up Main Street, headed to the mountains.
“Well, I couldn’t face that innkeeper, and at the same time, I worried he would never return tonight.”
In the dark cab, she stifled a grin. Was he really worried she’d invite Sean home? “Well, he’s not responding to this event. As temporary chief, I had to excuse myself from our dinner conversation.” She didn’t want to call it a date.
“Was he happy you left him alone?”
“Nope. Not one bit. Guess what? I don’t care. It was a mistake to allow myself to be forced into a date with someone I don’t even like.”
“Interesting,” was all he said.
About fifteen miles out of town, along a curving road that passed through a thick forest of pine trees, they followed a narrow dirt road that ended at the trailhead parking area. A dozen vehicles filled the open lot. Headlight beams were directed toward the mountain in the remote chance they might direct the lost hiker to the trailhead. Ellie backed into a spot out of the way.
As she and Bradley exited the vehicle, the ambulance pulled up beside them.
“Hi, Ellie. Mr. Wainwright.” Johnny said.
Bradley walked over and offered his hand. “Please. Call me Bradley. Is the hiker injured?”
“Don’t rightly know. Last update we got,” he said motioning to Al, joining them, “was that a lone male hiker in his forties is overdue. His cell phone pinged an hour ago near Drafty Gulch.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” Ellie said.
“Why? What is Drafty Gulch?” Bradley asked.
“This is Windswept Mountain,” Al explained, pointing toward where the mountain peak ought to be. Th
e dark moonless night hid the upper portion of what should be a snow-covered peak. The last time Ellie spied it during the day, it was as green as the forest surrounding it. All anyone could see now was shadows, as the headlights bounced off low hanging clouds.
“The gulch is a narrow gorge, created by a stream over millions of years. The sides go down steeply, with boulders and dead trees lining the stream bed,” Al said.
“Sounds awful.”
Ellie patted his arm. “Luckily, water only fills it in the spring as the snow melts or after heavy rains. At those times, falling in would mean drowning in the deep water. Hikers are warned not to go near the sides of the gorge. Do you think he could have fallen in?” she asked the paramedics.
“Depends if he’s a local or an out-of-towner. All the locals know to keep away. Well, we’ll stage here, inside our nice warm rig, until needed or sent home.” Al, Johnny and she shivered.
“Why would they send you home? If they found him uninjured?” Bradley asked.
Al sighed. “Yes, but also if they locate a body. That would require the state police be notified. Bradley, you’re welcome to join us inside the heated ambulance.”
“I might take you up on that kind offer, if I find my proposition of help is not wanted.”
Ellie stared at Bradley. He wanted to help? He was a city boy wearing brand-new boots and a smile, staring right back at her. As she thought of any reason why he was even out here with her, the tone called for engine one to respond.
“Sounds like it’s going to be a search party. More bodies will mean a quicker find, I hope,” she said.
“Would they let me join in the search?” Bradley asked.
He seemed to want to impress her. “Searchers generally get some training, first, but youn can ask if you might be needed,” she said. She didn’t want to get his hopes up and she would not be one of the ones traipsing around the dark woods.
“I really want to be useful,” he said.
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