Until Tomorrow (Boot Creek Book 3)

by Nancy Naigle

  “That’s the best part of a small town. My grandparents lived in Boot Creek originally, and I spent summers with them there. I grew up down in Charlotte, but when I got laid off they offered to sell me their inn. I leapt at the chance to relocate and give it a try.”

  “How do you like running an inn?”

  “I love it.” She filled them in on her experience at the inn. “I love meeting new people, and cooking for them is very satisfying. Food is kind of my love language.”

  “You can cook for me anytime,” Chet said.

  “And you’ll be lucky if she does,” Ford said, “because she is an amazing cook.”

  “Thanks, Ford.”

  “You should make your famous muffins for Chet and Missy while we’re in town. Y’all will love them. You could probably sell them too.”

  “What kind of muffins do you make?” Missy asked.

  “All kinds, but I make really good Pumpkin Pecan Crunch Muffins.”

  “And biscotti. Tell them about the biscotti you make,” Ford said.

  “I don’t think the guys from Katie’s Ring are the biscotti type,” Chet said. “And if you’re smart, Ford, you won’t be talking about froufrou French pastries around those boys. You might get your ass kicked.”

  Ford shook his head, and whispered to Flynn. “He’s full of crap.”

  Missy spoke up. “I’m sure we could move some muffins. We’re doing a big seafood special tomorrow night to help them celebrate their king crab haul. Y’all should come.”

  “I love crab boils. We do what we call a low-country boil. It has sausage, shrimp, blue crab, potatoes, and corn for an all-in-one-pot, all-you-can-eat buffet. I grew up on blue crabs,” Flynn said. “And oysters. We added oysters on the months with r’s in them.”

  “Oh honey, our crabs are four times the size of those little blue crabs you catch out on the East Coast,” Missy said.

  “And way easier to pick,” Ford added.

  “I’m ready. And I want to try some fresh Alaskan salmon while I’m up here.”

  “We can make that happen,” Ford said. “What’s the special tonight at the Moose?”

  Missy leaned forward between the two front bucket seats. “We got fresh halibut in this morning. We’re stuffing it with crabmeat and offering it fried or baked.”

  “I could eat a horse,” Flynn said. “Those light snacks didn’t hold me over.”

  “Me either,” Ford said. “We’ll stop by the Manic Moose with Chet and Missy and eat before we go home.” Ford turned to Chet. “You haven’t heard anything else about the sale, have you?”

  “You’ll be able to check out the building tomorrow. See what’s left intact. I’ve heard that Ziegler has moved a lot of stuff out. I’m not even sure how much of the equipment is still there.”

  Not for the first time, Ford wished Ziegler had spoken to him about what was going on before they’d gotten to this point. If Ziegler had sold off the furnaces and stuff, that would cut into the value of the buildings and lessen Ford’s willingness to spend the budget he’d set aside. He sure hoped he hadn’t flown back here for nothing.

  “Flynn. Wake up. We’re here.”

  Flynn opened her eyes. They felt gritty as she blinked, letting the pieces fall back into place. Alaska. She was in Alaska, thousands of miles away from home with a man she barely knew. A blast of music wafted into the truck as someone walked inside a nearby building.

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I know. Come on, let’s get some real food, and then we’ll head up to my place.”

  He must’ve sensed her hesitation, because he quickly added, “You’ll feel better after you eat. I’ve got this coast-to-coast travel thing down to a science.”

  “Okay.” She pushed herself out of the seat and let him help her out of the truck. When her feet hit the ground, her legs ached in resistance. She’d much rather be climbing into a bed right now, and if there’d been a hotel or an inn in sight, she’d be beating feet in that direction.

  The area was dark. Shops lined the street in both directions, but the only storefront that appeared open for as far as she could see was the Manic Moose. The overjoyed character on the sign held a sudsy mug of beer in one hand, or hoof, and wore a hunter’s hat that was balanced between prominent antlers.

  The parking lot was full of pickup trucks and four-wheel-drive vehicles.

  They walked into the Manic Moose. The bar was much larger than it looked from outside, but with all the dark wood inside, the light struggled to reflect off anything, making the space feel dark and more closed in than it actually was. Bright neon beer signs peppered the long wall, and the pool balls in play clicked to the rhythm of a popular country song. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised to hear a good ol’ George Strait song out here in Alaska, but it had caught her a little off guard.

  Missy had already put on an apron and was pushing beer across the bar. “You two want a menu or are you going to do the special?”

  Flynn said, “I’ll have the halibut special you were talking about.”

  “Fried?”

  “Any other way?”

  Missy laughed. “Not for you southern types, I suspect.” She looked over at Ford. “She might just fit in around here.”

  “I’ll have what the lady is having and the biggest water you have.”

  “Easy enough. Next table that opens up is yours,” she said.

  “We’re fine at the bar, Missy. We’re not going to be here that long.”

  “Okay, then let me get this order into the kitchen.”

  While they waited for their food, Flynn had the strange feeling that people were staring and whispering about her. She must be paranoid. Exhaustion would do that to a person.

  Flynn overheard someone behind her say, “She’s from North Carolina.” She turned to see a brunette woman next to a short guy with a buzz cut and full-sleeve tattoos covering his arms from his short sleeves down. It wasn’t snowing and the temperature wasn’t too bad, but there was no way Flynn would wear short sleeves in this weather.

  “You didn’t stay away long,” the man muttered to Ford as he walked by, not even giving Ford the opportunity to respond.

  Ford shrugged and took a sip of water.

  “What do you think of our town, little lady?” A tall man with biceps the size of coconuts stepped up behind her.

  Ford recognized the man as one of the crew from the fishing boat Katie’s Ring. Ford never did like it when people acted too familiar, but it was always news when someone brought a new person into this small town.

  “I just got here, but it seems really nice,” Flynn said.

  “You’ll either love it or hate it.” He held Flynn’s gaze a little too long.

  “No middle ground?” She’d rather have told him to skedaddle, but she’d be polite even if he did seem a little drunk.

  The guy grunted. “Nope.”

  “So far I like it. I like the way the terrain is terraced so you can see the rows of buildings and homes. The weather is way better than I thought it would be. Oh, and those seaplanes are cool. I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

  “You serious about that guy?”

  “That’s really none of your business, sugar.” She smiled as nicely as she could, and it lightened her mood when she saw Ford almost spit his water across the table.

  The guy slunk away. “She’s no sissy, prissy girl. I’ll give her that,” she overheard him say to his buddies.

  Her backhanded insult had earned her points in a weird sort of way.

  Missy brought their dinner out and set it on the bar in front of them. “Rolls are fresh out of the oven too.”

  “Thanks, Missy.” Flynn dove straight in. Now that she’d woken up, she was getting a second wind. Tomorrow would probably be a different story.

  She’d just taken a big bite of the stuffed halibut when an older woman wearing a tie-dyed shirt and fringed suede coat that had to be from the sixties walked up and gave Ford a hug. “
We didn’t expect you back for weeks.”

  “Just here for a few days, then heading back east. I had some business to tend to here.”

  “You’re back to bid on Ziegler’s building, aren’t you?” the hippie lady said.

  “Yes ma’am. Louisa, meet my friend, Flynn Crane.”

  Louisa lifted her chin as if she was sizing Flynn up for something then burst into a big grin. “Hello, Flynn. Welcome. Hope you enjoy your stay here. We love Ford, so don’t go breaking his heart or anything.” She leaned in close, the fringe of her coat tickling Flynn’s arm. “Nothing worse than a moping, heartsick man. Especially when the population is four men to every woman in this one-horse town.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Why did everybody assume she was here to test-drive moving north? It was a visit, and she’d be here less than a week. If anyone needed to worry about a broken heart, she had a strong feeling it was her. The only thing wrong with the package that made up Ford Morton was that it needed airmail delivery.

  “Good. You’ve got yourself a good one here.” Louisa patted Ford on the back. “You just holler if there’s anything I can do for you. I know everyone around here. I own the drugstore on the corner. Open noon to five, seven days a week.”

  “Thank you.”

  Flynn watched as the woman walked away, then turned to Ford, who said, “She’s the pharmacist. So she really does know everyone.”

  She looked like the type to serve up pot brownies and herbal remedies, but that was probably better than modern medicine anyway. Who was she to judge? “Are these people always so eager to fix you up with someone?”

  “Is it such a bad thing to maybe be my girl?”

  Flynn squirmed, unsure of how to answer that. “I might have thought about it when I met you last summer.”

  “At the wedding? I thought about it then too.”

  She snapped her head back so fast that her neck muscle twinged. “You did?”

  “Sure. You looked hot, and you’re a good dancer, but we didn’t get much of a chance to really get to know each other.”

  “They kept us pretty busy.”

  “Do you remember me texting you the week after the wedding?”

  “I do. You’d accidentally sent me that picture of the glacier. It was so pretty.”

  “That was no accident.”

  Where was this conversation going, and why did he wait until he had me halfway across the world to share this?

  “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I left Carolina. I just wasn’t sure how to approach that.”

  “And it took you a year? You’re making this up.”

  He crossed his heart. “I swear.”

  “Why didn’t you say something then or sometime in the last year? Or maybe when you first came to town?”

  “Because it was Jackson and Angie’s wedding, and I guess I didn’t realize how interested I was until I left and couldn’t stop thinking about you. When I got the invitation from PRIZM to come for the month, I cleared my calendar. I’ve been looking forward to the chance to see you. I could’ve stayed in the dorm, you know.”

  She thought back to when he’d shown up. Had she invited him, or had he invited himself? Now that she really thought about it, he had jumped right in on the chance to help her. He could’ve stayed with Jackson and Angie. Billy had been so excited about it.

  “We’re a good team. I kind of think we could be more,” he said taking her hand.

  Missy cleared their dishes. “Good?”

  Flynn was thankful for the interruption. She rubbed her belly. “So good. I ate way too much, but it was delicious.”

  “I hope you’ll come back and eat here with us while you’re in town.” Missy tapped the bar in front of Ford. “We’re praying things go the way you’d hoped, Ford.”

  “Thanks, Missy. We’re heading out.”

  “Truck’s unlocked.”

  Flynn followed Ford, wondering what the sleeping arrangement was going to be at his house. It would be so much easier if he only had one bedroom and there were no decisions to make.

  When she glanced over at him, he gave her a wink.

  She had to find a way to handle the involuntary reactions to his flirtation. She practically felt herself swoon.

  A light drizzle had started when they stepped outside, and that helped the swoony heat that had just filled her. The air was cold and damp. Ford walked over to Chet’s truck and got their luggage out of the back and set them on the ground. “I’m just parked right over there. Wait here and I’ll pull around.”

  “Okay.” She bounced, trying to stay warm. A puff of smoke blew in front of her as she breathed a sigh of relief to put a little distance between her and Ford for just a minute. Long enough to text Angie. She texted as fast as her cold fingers would go, finishing the sentence as she heard the engine of a truck start across the way.

  Flynn: Feels So Right!?!? Scary.

  She pushed the phone down into her purse and picked up her bags. When Ford pulled his SUV around, she opened the back door and started loading the bags in. By the time he got out of the driver’s seat and walked around to help, she’d already closed the door.

  “I’d have gotten those.” Ford held her door.

  “I’m quite capable.” She had no intention of ever playing damsel in distress.

  He waited for her to get inside, then closed the door and jogged back around to the driver’s seat.

  “We’ll have to come to town and pick up some groceries tomorrow. There’s no food in the house since I planned to be gone for a month, but there’s nothing open right now.”

  “I think we can probably make it through one night.”

  “Fair enough. I might not be as good a cook as you, but I have a few specialty dishes that’ll keep us from starving over the next few days.”

  “I’m not picky,” Flynn said, but that wasn’t entirely true. She was, but she could always help cook and that way she’d be sure to have something to eat that she liked.

  Main Street was quiet. The Manic Moose looked to have been about the only game in town. Several shops had “For Lease” signs in the windows; others looked like they’d be closed through the winter. The roads became dark quickly. The rain and wind picked up, making it hard to see in the darkness.

  “I guess rain is better than getting snow,” she said quietly.

  “We get a lot of rain here.”

  “I expected at least a little bit of snow.” She’d even bought UGG boots, thinking they’d be the perfect footwear for Alaska. That felt like a silly waste of money now. She could’ve just brought her waterproof hiking boots with her.

  “How far is it to your house?”

  “About forty minutes.”

  That felt really far. In the short time they’d driven, things were already looking pretty rugged and rural. Her mind raced, wishing now she’d asked Jackson for details about Ford’s house.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Those jackasses at the Moose had made things awkward, and he’d be damned if he’d lie to Flynn about how he felt when she’d straight-out asked him about it.

  She’d been quiet ever since he admitted to being interested. Maybe he’d misread her. He’d thought she was kind of into him, but she had a point. He lived a long way away, and at the end of a twenty-hour period of flights to get here was probably the worst time to mention it.

  He hoped she’d fallen asleep but was half afraid to look over there. The last thing he wanted to do was put his foot in his mouth again.

  His hands slipped on the steering wheel, sweat pooling in his palms in anticipation of Flynn seeing his house for the first time. He’d worked so hard on it, and he was proud of how it had turned out.

  It was a far cry from the teepee he’d lived in that first summer he’d moved here. That had been part of his pay for taking tourist groups down the river looking for wildlife, like the resident bear that he made up stories about, pretending it was a rare sighting. He knew the animal’s habit
s and there wasn’t much surprise to the trips after just a few weeks, but the people were a whole different story. His southern flirting skills paid off. And wooing pretty tourist girls into a teepee had turned out to be easy.

  With only about eight hundred year-round residents, you learned to make the best of new women hitting town, because everyone knew everyone and most were already spoken for.

  The drizzle made the drive even darker than normal. There wouldn’t be any Northern Lights watching as long as this weather set in. He’d really hoped they’d get lucky and see them on her first night here.

  The more time he spent with Flynn, the more he was convinced that she was the right woman for him. Like the way she’d handled that guy in the bar. She stood up for herself and still kept it ladylike. He liked her sensibilities, her fearless nature, and most of all that she was southern to the core. From her accent to her zeal for fried food.

  Plus, he already knew his best friends in Boot Creek liked her, and Missy had whispered her approval too. Louisa would’ve made her disapproval duly noted had there been any, but she hadn’t uttered a peep.

  The drive felt so much longer tonight. He was thankful when he took the last turn and came up over the clearing to see that Benson had taken it upon himself to leave the lights on for them.

  Anxiety had gnawed at him for the last thirty minutes about her first impression of the house, but the way she’d just sat up in her seat made all of that fall away.

  Since he’d chosen to forgo window treatments to let nature color the view, lights set on a timer while he was away poured through the windows, casting a golden hue into the dark night.

  “That’s gorgeous. It looks like one of those light-up Christmas villages,” Flynn said as he slowed down. “So warm and inviting. We’re stopping?”

  “We’re here.”

  “This is your house? The cabin?”

  “Yep.” He took the key from the ignition. “Home sweet home. Mi casa es su casa and all that.”

  She blinked. “You’re not serious.” She sat back in the seat. He hoped that look meant she was impressed.