Until Tomorrow (Boot Creek Book 3)

by Nancy Naigle

  She went back into his bedroom and changed into the clothes she’d left there on the chair next to his bed, then went downstairs.

  “Hey, I was kind of hoping I might catch you sneaking back downstairs naked.”

  “It’s a little too cold for that.”

  “You’re in for a treat. We had snow. Lots of it. Guess Chet was right.”

  “I saw.”

  “I made breakfast—your phone has been chirping like a pasture of crickets.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check it.”

  He met her at the stairs. “Come here.” He kissed her, then picked her up and put her down on the landing. “We might end up right back in bed if this snow keeps up.”

  “Do you hibernate all winter?”

  “No. I get around some, but when I don’t have to I don’t mind hunkering down for a while.”

  They walked into the kitchen. He’d set two place settings, but there was paperwork strewn across the other half of the table. “I’ve been working on the numbers and some other stuff.”

  “You’ve been busy.”

  “I pulled together a list of all of the artists I’d like to invite to come here too. I’m so excited about this.”

  “Will we be able to get to town to place your bid, or will they allow phone bids or postpone it altogether?”

  “I have no idea. I’m going to call as soon as someone is there.”

  She hoped they wouldn’t go to electronic bidding. If she couldn’t get into that office and look at the calendar, then she wouldn’t be able to advise Ford with his bid. She should’ve told him about what she’d heard. The more she thought about it, the more awkward it would be to tell him now. It would hurt his feelings to think she kept that from him for her own benefit.

  I have to make this work for him.

  A sick feeling held in her gut. She pushed the food around on her plate. “This looks so good, Ford, but I’m feeling a little off today.”

  “No worries. Probably all the travel. Can I get you some toast?”

  “No. Really. I’m okay.” She got up from the table. “I’m going to go jump in the shower and maybe lie back down for a few minutes and see if I feel better. Will you come wake me up and let me know when you talk to the people at the auction?”

  “No. You just rest. I’ve got this.”

  He had no idea. “I know you’ve got it, but I want to help.”

  He got up and walked over to rest his hands on her shoulders. “How did I get so lucky to find you?”

  “I’m the lucky one,” she said. “Wake me up. Promise me.”

  “Fine. Whatever you want. I promise.”

  The chirp from her phone echoed through the house.

  “There it is again,” Ford said. “You seem to be very popular this morning.”

  Flynn walked over and took her phone off the charger. She flipped through the messages as she walked to her room. Angie was dying to hear about the trip.

  “Everything okay?” Ford asked.

  She looked up. “Yeah. Angie wants an update.”

  He laughed. “Think she’ll be pleased?”

  “As pleased as Grandma’s famous frozen sherbet punch!”

  “Think your grandma is going to be pleased too?”

  “You better hope so. She has a keen instinct.”

  “Note to self. Suck up to Flynn’s grandmother.”

  “Good idea.” She pointed toward the guest room. “I’m just going to go get cleaned up.”

  He’d let the silence steal the moment. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  Flynn opted for a quick text to Angie while the tub was filling.

  Flynn: Things Are Great In Alaska. <3

  Angie: Hey. Sorry For The Early Texts. Jackson Is Home For Lunch. He Just Reminded Me That You’re Four Hours Behind Us.

  Flynn: True. We Were Sleeping.

  Angie: Together?

  Flynn: Indeed. <3

  Angie: I Knew It! I’m So Excited.

  Flynn: Will Catch You Up On The Phone Soon. Thanks For The Advice.

  Angie: Thanks For Listening For A Change.

  After her bath she crawled across the bed in her jeans and T-shirt and closed her eyes. She was feeling better, but maybe she should feel worse if she didn’t feel guilty about keeping that information from him. She’d miss Angie so much if she stayed here in Alaska. Jackson and Ford had remained best friends, but guys had different kinds of relationships than women.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ford knocked lightly on the guest room door.

  “Come in.”

  He pushed the door open and leaned inside. She looked beautiful lying there on the bed. The snow filled the room with bright light in a peaceful way that made her look almost angelic.

  Flynn rolled over, her hair falling over her shoulder. “What’d they say?”

  “They are calling everyone who picked up a packet. They want the bids in by noon. They’re worried that the roads will be impassable later.”

  “We better get a move on then.”

  He’d wanted her to come, but had been afraid to hope for it after all that was going on. “Are you up to it? You can stay here if you want.”

  She jumped from the bed. “I’m absolutely coming with you. Give me four minutes.” She ran past him into the bathroom. He sat on the bed and in minutes she opened the door and stepped out dressed in a sweater and jeans. She slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed her purse. “Let’s roll.”

  “Ready in under four minutes? Don’t make me fall in love with you again.”

  Her smile was devilish, and he liked it. “Prepare to be continually smitten,” she said with a smug lift of her chin.

  “My pleasure.”

  The driveway was icy, causing them to slip and slide a bit until they got to the main road. “If I’d known they were calling for snow I’d have left the truck down by the road.” The snow had drifted pretty high in a few places, but someone had already scraped the main road.

  “This isn’t too bad,” Flynn said. “This much snow would have shut down Boot Creek indefinitely.” She put one hand against the dash and the other on the door.

  “Main road is usually clear.” He reached over and patted her arm. “I’ve been driving in this for a while. Don’t worry.”

  She nodded, still looking nervous.

  “Just about everyone up here helps each other during the winter months. It really isn’t too bad most of the time.” He hoped she could see how handling snow on a regular basis made a difference for a town.

  When they got to the old building, there were several cars parked in front of it, but only a few in front of the other businesses.

  He parked and they went inside. In the small room where the bids were being accepted five people stood over near a table. Some working on paperwork, others talking.

  “I’ll be right back,” Flynn said.

  He watched her cross the room and talk to the woman at the desk. They seemed to be hitting it off, smiling and laughing. Probably after hearing from Angie, she was yearning for some female chatter. A moment later when he looked back, Flynn was in the woman’s chair using her computer.

  Winston Ziegler walked inside, stomping snow from his boots. “All of you bidding on my building?”

  “This is almost everyone. We’re waiting for one more and that will be everyone with the exception of one bid that came in over the phone and we’ll dial him in.” The woman walked across the room, leaving Flynn behind. “Glad you could make it, Winston.”

  The conversation got louder as tension between the bidders eased with Winston coming in.

  “Good luck, Ford,” Winston said. “I’m sorry it all worked out this way. My foolish pride kept thinking I’d pull things out, but I was just in too deep.”

  “I understand. I hope things will turn around for you.” Winston looked tired, haggard.

  “Me too.”

  Flynn walked over. “Winston,” Ford said, “I want you to meet someone.” He
turned and took Flynn’s hand. “Someone special. Flynn, this is Winston Ziegler. You’ve heard me speak of him.”

  Flynn’s face lit up. “I have. So nice to meet you.”

  “You’ve got a good man right here,” Winston said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Her smile melted the calm that normally ran through Ford. “I’m the lucky one.”

  “I’ve heard good things about you too, Mr. Ziegler,” she said.

  “Winston,” he said. “Call me Winston.”

  Ford said, “Ziegler’s been like an agent hand selling our work. Not only the art pieces but even the less artistic stuff like the household items that a lot of beginning artists worked on day in and day out.”

  “That’s my job,” Winston said. “At least it was.”

  “Can I talk to you for just a moment, Ford?” Flynn dipped her head slightly. “I’ll bring him right back,” she apologized to Winston.

  “Excuse us.” Ford stepped away. “Everything okay?”

  “Can we step out into the hall?”

  “Sure.” He followed her out into the hall and she led him toward the front door then stopped. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” What was so important that couldn’t wait?

  “Your bid today. How much is it going to be?”

  He hesitated. They hadn’t talked specific dollars. He’d only told her that he had money set aside. If she was going to be in his life, there was no reason not to share that information though. He looked over his shoulder afraid someone might overhear.

  She must’ve read his mind, because she shoved a paper in front of him, but it already had a number on it. “Ford, don’t ask me how I know,” she whispered, “but can you make your bid over this amount?”

  The number Flynn had written on the paper was $639,000.

  Had she come across something on that woman’s computer? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that and he was glad she’d said not to ask, because he couldn’t with a good conscience take action on an underhanded move. The bid he’d planned to make was only four thousand shy of that number. He could make that number with no problem. “I can.”

  “Then do it.” She put both hands on each side of his face and kissed him. “I want you to have everything you ever wanted.”

  He turned and looked down the hall. “This might be ours.”

  “Yours. But I’ll celebrate with you. I can promise you that.”

  “You’ll be part of it. I want you to be.”

  She smiled and leaned into him. “We’d better get back.”

  The man she’d seen on the dock came in the front door and hurried past them.

  “That must be our straggler,” Ford said.

  At three o’clock Ford and Flynn stood at the bar at the Manic Moose holding champagne glasses. Ford balanced himself on the barstool, holding his glass of bubbly high. He’d bought a round of drinks for the house and all eyes were on him.

  “It’s official. I just bought the old Glory Glassworks building. I’ll be reopening soon. Join me in a toast!”

  The room fell silent as everyone tossed back shots or sipped from their glasses, and then the bar exploded back into conversation and cheers.

  “So happy for you,” Missy said. “No one deserves it more. You going to stick around, Flynn?”

  Flynn blushed. “We’ve been talking about that.”

  Missy looked happy about that. “I hope you do. It would be wonderful to have someone like you around here.”

  “Thank you,” Flynn said, looking over at Ford.

  Ford’s lip twitched into a sexy grin. “It would be wonderful to have you here. Not someone like you. I kind of like the original.”

  “She likes you right back, mister,” Flynn said.

  “We’re going to get on the road,” Ford said as he put his empty glass on the bar. “Thanks for helping us celebrate.” Sure felt good to say us and we. His world felt complete now.

  Ford opened the door for Flynn and helped her in and then went over to the driver’s side.

  Her phone rang just as he started the engine. “Hey, Granpa,” she said, putting the call on speaker.

  “Hi Flynn.”

  “Is everything okay?” She mouthed over the phone to Ford, “It’s my grandfather. He never calls.”

  “Yes. Well, no, but it will be,” her grandfather said. “Just wanted to let you know that your grandmother took a fall. They’re doing some tests to figure out what happened. Don’t worry. They say she’s going to be fine, but we’re here at Regional Medical Center Hospital here in Florida. The one near the house.”

  Ford watched the color drain from Flynn’s face. “I’ll come. When did this happen?” she asked.

  “Yesterday. Don’t get all upset. I just wanted you to hear it from me and not one of the neighbors. Marty and Jill were here when it happened, and they were going back to Boot Creek. I figured it’d be all over town in a flash. You know how that woman loves gossip.”

  “She does. I’m not home. I’m in Alaska with Ford. You remember Ford from the wedding.”

  “Of course I remember him. Nice young man.”

  “The best.” Her eyes twinkled as their eyes met.

  Ford’s heart hitched.

  “Oh dear,” Granpa said. “I hope it’s not too late. Or is it early. How many time zones is Alaska from us? I don’t know.”

  “Never mind, Granpa. Don’t worry about that. I’ll be on the first plane to Florida.”

  “No, Flynn. She told me not to tell you. She said that’s exactly what you’d say. She’ll have my hide.” The poor man’s voice was nothing short of panicked.

  “Don’t be silly. I need to be there.”

  “We’re supposed to have an update in the morning. The doctor is supposed to come talk to us sometime between eight and nine. Call me back then. Okay?”

  “Don’t worry, Granpa. She’s tough. It’ll be okay.” She hung up the phone and held it in her lap. “I need to get on the next plane.”

  “We’re headed back on Monday. We could probably change your ticket to get you to Florida instead of Raleigh.”

  “I can’t wait until Monday. I need to leave tonight.”

  A pang of disappointment shot through him. He wasn’t ready for her to leave, and she hadn’t made mention of him coming with her either. “Not sure when the flights run, but we’ll need to coordinate the hop to get you to the airport from here.”

  “Who do I need to call?”

  “I’ve got the numbers at the house. You can pack and I’ll call to get things going.”

  She nodded and folded her hands in her lap. He could feel her concern all the way across the vehicle. He wished he knew something comforting to say. When they got to the house, she didn’t wait for him to come open the door for her. She jumped from her seat and ran up the steps.

  He opened the door and she stepped out of her boots. She went into her room to grab her laptop and came back out to the living room. She sat cross-legged and started searching for flights.

  He called his buddy. “I need you to get Flynn to the airport. She’s trying to find a flight out right now. Family emergency. What’s your schedule look like?”

  “My schedule is completely clear because the flights are grounded right now.”

  “Oh.” His teeth clamped together. “How long is that expected to go on?”

  “They’re in white-out conditions up that way. Once the storm system moves along, they’ll have some clean-up time. It could be a while.”

  Ford dreaded telling her that. He prayed a phone call to her grandmother in the morning would resolve the need to go.

  Flynn looked like a teenager sitting on the floor using the coffee table like a desk. Her toes kept wiggling, probably the only way to burn some of the adrenaline that the worry had ignited. “Everything is completely sold out for tomorrow.”

  He hated seeing the worry in her eyes. “Let’s get some rest.”

  She got up and walked over to him. �
�I’m sorry to be a downer. This is a big day for you. I’m ruining it.”

  “Don’t be silly. This is life. My studio—damn, that feels good to say—will be here forever. This problem deserves your undivided attention. I’m with you, baby. We’ll get through it.”

  At three o’clock sharp, Ford’s phone honked like a fire alarm, or maybe it was more like the warning for a tornado. Flynn hopped out of bed in a panic kicking her foot against the nightstand and yelling at the inanimate object for getting in her way like it had been intentional.

  “It’s just my phone alarm,” he said, trying to slow her down before she hauled butt outside. He turned off the alarm.

  “Lord have mercy, I thought we were on fire or something. You need to warn a girl about that.” She clutched at her chest. “One good thing about it. I’m awake now.”

  He pushed back his covers. “It works pretty well. Scares me out of bed every time, and I’ve had it set to that tone for over a year.” He got up and pulled on his jeans.

  “You don’t have to get up. I’m just going to call and find out if there’s an update on what’s going on and then come right back to bed.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’re so sweet.” She put her hands on his shoulders and sat him back on the bed. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I sure am glad.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Flynn went downstairs to grab a glass of water, but as soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen she smelled coffee. The light on the coffeemaker glowed. Ford had set the coffeepot to brew for three o’clock and the pot was almost done. That guy thought of everything.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee, more to warm up than to wake up, then sat down at the table with her phone.

  She said a quick prayer and then dialed.

  “It’s me, Flynn. How is she?”

  “Good morning, sweetie. I didn’t want to worry you.”