by Jenny Hale
Scarlett didn’t want to let on that she had an idea, both so as not to bring attention to it for Gran’s benefit, and also because she didn’t want to allow the hope to well up that she could actually get in touch with Charles Bryant. Why would he be there? Surely he couldn’t be looking at potential building options in all this snow. And it was nearly Christmas.
It didn’t matter why he was there. She’d have to try to get down the mountain to Amos’s tomorrow to find out if it was him. It was her best chance at finding a solution to all this.
“I’m going to head upstairs and help Dad… make sure he’s got everything unpacked. I need to double-check that all my shirts are hanging in the closet and not folded in a drawer,” she said lightly, concealing her need to divulge this new information to her father. “Is there anything you need before I go?”
“No, dear. I’m just fine. The kids and I will finish the baking. You need to slow down for a minute and relax. You’ve been running since the minute you got here.”
“Okay, Gran.” Scarlett blew her grandmother a kiss and headed up to talk to her dad.
Since the whole family shared a corridor in the private quarters of the inn, it was quiet. When she got to her dad’s room, the door was still open, propped with her suitcase. Blue was folding a sweater; a small pile of clothes that he was sorting were arranged on the bed. She pushed the luggage out of her way, letting the door close behind her as she went in.
“Hey.” Scarlett plopped down next to a stack of blue jeans, wobbling it. “Almost finished?”
“Yep. Nearly. Aunt Alice is up here somewhere. Have you seen her?”
Unable to contain herself or manage any more small talk, she waved him closer. Blue leaned in and, her voice quiet, Scarlett got right to the point. “Guess what I saw on the way home from town.”
Blue grinned at her and set the sweater down to give her his full attention. “What?”
“There was a light in the distance down the road, where Amos’s house is. It was hard to tell with the snow, but it looked like a porch light. Someone might be there right now.”
He immediately connected the dots and could tell what she was thinking.
“That house is falling apart. We don’t know if whoever’s there is anyone of significance to us,” he said, his gaze darting over to the closed door, his tone skeptical. He resumed folding and then turned away from her to open a dresser drawer.
“We don’t know that it’s not.” She stood up and put her face into his line of vision. “You said yourself that things have a way of working out. I’m going to go over there tomorrow to see who it is.”
Blue turned around. “I think I preferred it when you weren’t talking about this at all,” he said, teasing. “How could you go to Amos’s anyway? The snow is so deep that you’ll never find the road, and it’s almost totally downhill. You won’t get a vehicle down there.”
“There has to be a path if the light was on. Someone had to get to the house, right?”
“At some point, yes. But they might have come before the storm. I can’t imagine anything’s been plowed in the last few days.” He picked up his toiletries bag and fished around inside it, retrieving a few bottles and placing them on the dresser in organized groups. “Given the shape the old house is in, no one should be living there at all. The property’s been neglected since Amos passed away years ago. It’s probably just someone doing some maintenance. If they’re still there at all. They could’ve just left the light on.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if that’s the case after I’ve gone tomorrow.”
“I’m not going to have you risk your life chasing some ridiculous idea that you can save White Oaks for Gran. You can’t control what happens, Scarlett. We’ll find a buyer.”
“I can’t let it go when there’s a chance that I could help.”
“Stubborn like your mother,” he said with a huff.
“Maybe,” Scarlett said, standing up. “But I love you like she did too.” She hugged him, making him smile, and on her way out the door she turned to him. “I am going to Amos’s house tomorrow,” she stated matter-of-factly for emphasis. “It’ll all work out.”
Blue shook his head with a playful smile, but trepidation was still lurking around his eyes. He’d always been overprotective. Maybe that was his go-to strategy. She understood it, though, and she never complained. They only had each other.
“Love you!” Scarlett bounced out of the room. “Come down and get one of Gran’s cookies!” she called from the hallway. “They’re delicious!”
Four
“Oh, my stars!” Loretta’s familiar voice sailed over the breakfast chatter at the Wynn Family Diner, originally an old saloon that had been converted to a restaurant by Samuel Wynn and his family in the 1980s. It boasted cooked breakfasts fit for a mountaineer, and in the warmer months it was standing room only in the reception area, the hostess madly scratching down names as visitors waited in the endless stretch of rocking chairs for their turn to sample the local fare. Still the busiest restaurant in the area, even in the off-season, it brimmed with people this morning.
Scarlett had gotten up early, fed Archie and Stitches for Gran, and then headed into town without even a cup of coffee, claiming she needed to get a few last-minute gifts for her dad. But she was going to fuel up and then see how far down the mountain she could get toward Amos’s. She had to find out if Charles Bryant was there.
“Fancy seeing you here!” Loretta swished over in her long winter coat and riding boots.
She took it upon herself to pull out the chair across from Scarlett and take a seat, mouthing to the waitress to get her a cup of coffee as she unwrapped her scarf and draped it on the back of the chair. Scarlett was so happy to see her friend. Loretta was like family.
“How have you been?” Loretta asked.
Scarlett had to think quickly about that answer. Anything she said could be used to match her with someone, and Scarlett wasn’t really ready to date anyone at the moment. “I’m great,” she said, withholding all information until she could determine whether or not Loretta had ulterior motives. “Any new couple match-ups on the horizon?”
The waitress set a mug of coffee in front of Loretta and then topped off Scarlett’s.
“I think I may have finally found someone for Preston.”
“Oh?” Scarlett was intrigued as she tried not to laugh. Preston couldn’t possibly have agreed to anything Loretta had set up.
“My cousin Sarah.” Loretta took her stocking cap off and ran her fingers through her soft auburn hair.
It baffled Scarlett that Loretta could help so many people find happiness but she’d never settled down herself. She was stunning and friendly; she could make anyone feel like they’d known her for years. Growing up, Loretta had been a dancer. Scarlett could still remember how she’d exhale when she put her sore toes in the water at the falls after a day of ballet, her toe shoes still in her backpack that she’d hung on a tree limb when she met Scarlett to swim. Scarlett couldn’t remember the day she’d stopped dancing or the moment she’d decided that she would start the agency. It was as if the two parts of Loretta’s life were completely separate.
In the age of internet dating, Loretta had managed to make people feel like they were missing out if they didn’t have her personal attention, and now Scarlett understood why. Loretta wasn’t just putting a set of matching answers together to make a couple. She was invested in their emotions and how they felt about the other person. She advertised online, offering singles a quiet retreat in their mountain town, putting them up in rooms at White Oaks, boasting the romantic locations they’d find in Silver Falls, and hand-picking whom they’d meet on their getaway. Her planning and organization were second to none. She kept numbers small and prices high, but her ratings were so good that people were willing to pay good money for their happiness. Because at the end of the day, happiness was most important.
“Have you introduced them yet?” Scarlett asked, trying to push do
wn the amusement that bubbled up at the thought of Loretta possibly chasing Preston around The Bar last night. But now, with new insight into Loretta’s motivations, she wondered if perhaps Preston should give her suggestion a chance.
“Not yet.” Her eyebrows bobbed up and down with excitement as she dumped some cream into her coffee and stirred. “How about you? Any love on the horizon?”
Scarlett finally let her smile emerge, knowing this question was coming. “No. I’m fine with my life at the moment. I like being single.”
“Nonsense.” Loretta lifted her mug to her lips and quietly sipped. “No one likes being alone. They like being busy, but never being alone.”
Scarlett considered this, only heightening her curiosity about Loretta’s relationship status. She seemed so in tune to what others needed; had she considered what she might need?
“I thought about you, actually, when we got our newcomer,” Loretta said.
“Newcomer?”
“Living at Amos’s.”
A winter chill snaked through Scarlett at the mention of Amos’s name, and she feared that it showed on her face. She focused on her eggs, cutting the omelet in front of her into tiny bite-sized pieces.
“He looks a little older than you—handsome. Got here about a week ago, right before the bottom fell out of the winter bucket. I wonder how he’s getting along… I thought for sure we’d see him in town, but I haven’t heard a peep from him since he got here, and even then, he’d only stopped to fill up at the service station—that’s how I saw him. It’s a mystery where he’s getting his food from, and with all the snow, no one can bring him a welcome basket or anything. I’m dying to make him some muffins and find out if he’s available for matchmaking…”
“Do you know… who he is?” Scarlett asked carefully, trying to be as nonchalant as she could while still prying for any information she could get. It would definitely be worth the danger in getting down the mountain if she could be sure Charles Bryant was there.
“Nope. But I haven’t asked too many people.”
If Loretta was anything, it was observant. She made a sport of it. Scarlett decided to see if she had any clues that might help the situation. “Did you know that Amos had a son?”
Loretta’s gaze flew over her coffee mug, clearly soaking up this new information. “What?”
“That’s what I’d heard. But I never saw Amos with a child growing up, and his wife died when they were young—Gran told me once—so where was his child?”
“No idea…” Loretta gaped at her while she let this news settle into the archives of her well-managed brain, as if she were stockpiling classified information. “I’ve never seen anyone but Amos at that house,” she whispered. “Not until a week ago.”
“That’s so strange.”
“Sure is…” Loretta touched the tips of her fingers to her mouth absentmindedly, lost in thought. Then she surfaced, her hands clapping down onto the table. “What if Amos had some kind of secret affair with someone?” She started looking around as if the person could be present, then zeroing back in on Scarlett. “What if it was someone here in Silver Falls?” She clutched her chest, but her eyes glistened with interest.
“I doubt that,” Scarlett said, bringing her back down to reality. “If it were someone here, then we’d have seen the child around town when we were kids. And Amos couldn’t have had an affair if his wife had passed when they were younger. He’d have just had a regular old relationship, so he wouldn’t have been hiding anything.”
Loretta nodded, still clearly thinking of scenarios.
“But even if he had a child with another woman in a different town, wouldn’t he see the child? Amos was so kind. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be allowed to see his child,” Scarlett said. “He used to visit my grandparents and he told them that he was alone a lot.”
“Maybe the mistress ran off with his child!” Loretta leaned forward for emphasis, making Scarlett laugh. Loretta had seen it all in her line of work, Scarlett was certain. “I’m serious!” Loretta said.
“I guess it’s possible,” Scarlet said, breaking her biscuit in half to butter it.
Loretta looked at the time on her phone and then dropped some cash onto the table for her coffee. “I’ve got to run. I have a couple coming in at nine, and I need to make the introductions. It’s tough getting clients up here in the winter, so when I get one, I have to make it worth their trip. Catch you later!”
“Let me know how things go with Sarah and Preston.”
Loretta grabbed her hat and scarf. “I can feel it this time,” she said with a sparkle in her eye.
Scarlett wanted to get going too. She finished quickly and paid the bill, so she could head for the edge of the mountain to see if she could find some answers.
Scarlett punched the gas again, the tires spinning madly, digging her deeper into the snow. In all the times she’d driven in this truck with her dad, she’d never gotten stuck. But now, as she fumbled around with the stick shift, she had a sinking feeling that there was a first time for everything. She’d made it a considerable way down the mountain. She could see Amos’s house from where she was. It definitely looked neglected, run down. It was missing a couple of shutters and there were areas of the roof that were completely devoid of shingles. One of the windows appeared to be cracked. But smoke billowed from the chimney and there was a light on inside. Scarlett wondered if she could make it the rest of the way on foot in the thick snow. But the house was just far enough away that she didn’t think she could without getting frostbite.
Pulling out her phone, it occurred to her that her father could bring out the tractor and clear them a path to get the truck out so they could, at the very least, go back to the inn, but when she checked her screen, she threw her head back in frustration. No service. She wriggled the stick shift into reverse and gunned it. The truck groaned in protest but didn’t move an inch. After the trip from Nashville, and all the engine revving she’d done just now trying to get the tires free, she was also getting low on gas. If she didn’t stop, she was going to run the gas tank dry.
With a huff, she opened the door, the frigid air slicing through her. The wind rolled down the mountain, nearly knocking her over, her low boots no match for the snow that had piled up on its descent to the valley below. She reached into the back of the truck and retrieved the snow shovel her dad had packed for emergencies. She was hoping not to have to use it, but she was running out of options. Scarlett heaved the rectangular blade into the snow surrounding the front tire and scooped a shovelful. The weight put an extra strain on her arms as she dumped it in a lump beside her. She set in to dig some more.
After she’d worked her pulse into a frenzy, her feet completely numb in her boots, Scarlett evaluated her progress. To her dismay, the tire didn’t look like she’d done a thing to it. The snow was falling too quickly, and the shovel was no match for the amount that was already on the ground. She got into the truck and ran the engine, blasting the heat as high as it would go to get warm while she prayed for signal, now very worried she might run out of gas. She turned the radio on and cranked the volume to listen for any advisories through the static, but the only thing playing was Christmas carols. Scarlett checked her phone again, turning it on and off—nothing.
Bang! Bang! Someone rapped loudly on the truck, nearly sending her jumping out of her skin.
She rolled down her window to find a very annoyed man standing at the door to her side. He had a rather large coat on, a scarf, and a winter cap, his cheeks pink from the icy wind—none of it able to hide his attractiveness. She took in his broad cheekbones, the slight space between his lips as he assessed her, air puffing out in the cold around him, his dark amber eyes boring into her.
“Are you trying to freeze to death?” he barked.
“Ummm…” She couldn’t form words, still too stunned and relieved at the notion of encountering anyone out here. She looked past him to find a sleek and very modern snowmobile—it wasn’t the type of veh
icle she was used to seeing in this area. Her gaze followed the glossy lines of it, noticing the tracks under the runners that led down the hill to Amos’s.
“Why are you here?” the man demanded.
All coherent thought was sucked out of her the minute he spoke again. Was this Charles Bryant who had been dropped right in front of her, like some sort of Christmas miracle? But Amos had been so friendly; by the clenching of the man’s jaw and the irritated look in his eyes as he waited for her to speak, she doubted it. He huffed around, opening her door and looking the truck over, shaking his head.
“Are you Charles Bryant?” she finally managed.
He stopped cold and turned toward her, those eyes so intimidating that she wanted to shrink back into the truck.
“If you want something from me, I don’t have anything to give you.”
His tone changed slightly with those words, and she noticed something different in his expression, but she couldn’t place it. Hurt? Before she could get a handle on it, though, the irritation returned. He was stomping back to the snowmobile. Was he going to leave her there?
“Wait!” she called after him as she marched clumsily over the drifts of snow.
He didn’t turn around so Scarlett tried to pick up her pace, but it was like treading water; the hills acted as a wind tunnel, and the air was pushing against her so much that she could barely even hear, the silence chilling.
“Charles!” she said into the howling gusts, praying that was his name.
The large expanse between the truck and the snowmobile made her realize that there was absolutely no way she’d have gotten to Amos’s by walking through the snow, and the further she moved away from the truck, the more nervous she got. She’d lose body heat out there, and she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, so even if she wanted to call for help to get out of there, she couldn’t check her phone for service. How had she managed to get herself into this situation?