by Tina Leonard
“Sierra,” Santana cautioned, and Nick added, “In to-go containers, if possible.”
Miss Sugar touched Sierra’s forehead. “My, you’re burning up, young lady.”
“I feel like crap,” Sierra said.
“Did this just come on?” Miss Sugar asked.
“Yes.” Sierra sipped her water after Nick squeezed a generous lemon slice in it.
“I wonder if you’d be interested in trying a cure,” Miss Sugar said.
“A cure?” Santana asked, raising a brow.
“A remedy, to be more precise.”
“Sure,” Sierra said.
“What kind of remedy?” Emma asked quickly.
“A natural remedy, don’t worry.” Miss Sugar went off, and Santana glanced at Emma.
“It can’t hurt, I suppose,” Emma said.
“Whatever it takes to hear her ghost story,” Sierra said.
“Since when are you so interested in local legends?” Santana asked.
“I don’t know.” Sierra took a lemon slice and ate it, rind and all. She took another lemon slice and downed that as well.
“Sierra,” Santana said, “since when do you gobble lemons?”
“I’m craving citrus. I can’t explain it.”
Miss Sugar returned, setting down a piece of pie for Sierra and the hot tea. She also gave her a water bottle. “Drink that first. Divide the bottle in four parts, and drink a fourth every fifteen minutes.”
“That pie is beautiful,” Sierra said. “I feel better already.”
Miss Sugar smiled. “You’ll feel fine soon. What can I get the rest of you folks?”
“I’ll have a BLT,” Emma said. “I hear yours are delicious.”
“Good.” She looked at Santana. “And you, sir?”
“Shouldn’t we be hitting the road?” Santana asked, glancing at Nick.
“Maybe if Sierra gets some food in her, she’ll feel better,” Nick said. “We can take thirty minutes to eat and get out before the snow starts falling.” He also ordered a BLT, and Santana sighed. Sierra was drinking her water, just as prescribed, and ogling her pie, so he also ordered one of the infamous BLTs. Although how amazing could a BLT be? Bacon, lettuce, tomato, big deal.
“Me, too, please,” Sierra said, and Miss Sugar went off, delighted to have four orders for her much-lauded BLTs.
Sierra dumped a ton of sugar in her hot tea, squeezed a large slice of lemon in it, devoured the slice when she’d squeezed all the juice from it, and forked a piece of the pie. “I’m sorry, folks. I hate to eat in front of you, but I’m trying this. It’s calling my name.”
“I’m glad to see you have an appetite.” Emma took a wafer from the cookie tray. “We can probably rule out appendicitis.”
“Maybe it was something in that house.” Nick drank his water.
“This is so good it’s sinful.” Sierra sighed happily. “I’m taking home a whole pie if she’s got one!”
Miss Sugar returned with their BLTs, setting a plate down in front of each of them. Santana had never seen such huge sandwiches. Each BLT was a masterpiece in its own right, towering with bacon and tomato layers, generous cups of mayo on the side. The bread was a crustless, soft egg-style, looking cut from a fresh loaf.
“You’re sure you want to eat more, Sierra?” Emma asked, watching Sierra tear into the BLT with gusto.
“I’m feeling better,” Sierra said. She picked up the bottle of water with the so-called “remedy” in it. “This stuff must be working.”
“Clearly a placebo effect,” Santana muttered.
“Whatever. It’s working,” Sierra said cheerfully. “And this BLT lives up to its reputation!”
Emma smiled at Santana. It was a look meant to calm him, reassure him that his little sister would be fine.
She would be. He knew that. They all would be.
“Snow’s starting to fall,” Miss Sugar said, happily reappearing at their table. “How’s the food, folks?”
“Delightful,” Nick said. “You might bring me the bill. We need to hit the road.”
“You won’t be going anywhere today,” Miss Sugar said, her face suddenly woeful.
“Oh?” Nick raised an imperious brow, his voice suddenly quite cold. The change in Friendly Nick to what was probably Boardroom Nick even startled Sierra, who glanced at him, her eyes huge.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Miss Sugar couldn’t have been more sympathetic. “Not if that’s your black car outside.”
Of course it was Nick’s black car. They’d been the only people to park in the six spaces in front of Miss Sugar’s tearoom.
“Is there a problem?” Nick demanded, his tone icy.
“Looks like a tire thief came by,” Miss Sugar said, maybe not quite as sympathetic as she should be, Santana thought. “We’ve had a gang working our small town. They come by with a truck to toss the tires into and make short work of it. Can have your tires off in less than twelve seconds, just like at NASCAR.”
Nick got up, his body stiff, visibly annoyed. Santana stared at him, surprised by the change in the affable Nick. They walked with him to the window to see the damage. Nick let out a word Santana had never heard him use before as he saw his car sitting on cinder blocks, the wheels and tires vanished.
“Why haven’t you called the sheriff?” Nick demanded.
“I did,” Miss Sugar said, offended. “Of course I did immediately, before I even knew if that was your car! We try to stay one step ahead of that gang!”
“Well, you’re not staying one step ahead,” Nick said curtly. “I’m sure you have someone in town who conveniently tends to this type of occurrence?”
“I beg your pardon,” Miss Sugar said. “If you are suggesting, sir, that we thieve tires in this town to make a bit of cash from unsuspecting travelers, I assure you that’s the last thing anyone would want here. We want our visitors to return. Any good business person knows that. And for your information, since the theft occurred on my property, lunch is on me.”
She sailed off, highly displeased.
“Damn,” Nick said. “I didn’t handle that well.”
“No, you didn’t.” Santana stared out at the Range Ranger, privately sympathizing with Nick. What Nick didn’t realize was that getting his car fixed in a town this small wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m going to see if they took my dress!” Sierra turned to fly out the door, but Emma stopped her.
“You stay inside. Go sit back down. I’ll check.” She looked at Santana. “Make her go back to the table.”
Nick turned instantly, taking Sierra’s arm and guiding her back to her chair. Santana followed, surprised when his sister wound her arm through Nick’s.
That was a very bad sign. If Sierra was feeling better, she’d be more likely to kick Nick than lean on him. He followed Emma out the door, unwilling to let her out of his sight while there were hoodlums around.
“Maybe we should phone the captain and ask him to send someone to pick us up. A taxi would be expensive. I think Sierra needs to get home,” Emma said when he reached her.
He peered through the windows of the dark vehicle. “She’ll be happy to know no one wants the stupid dress except her.”
Emma shook her head. “Sierra’s proud of that stupid dress, as you call it, and Nick seems happy to be in on her dream, right?”
Santana was too worried about his sister to care about irrational pipe dreams. “Let’s get you back inside where it’s warm in case whatever made Sierra ill is contagious.”
“Kiss me first,” Emma said, to his surprise. He complied instantly, tugging her to him by her coat lapels, sinking his mouth against hers. She moaned, moving closer, and suddenly, the rapid snowfall and below-freezing chill no longer bothered Santana.
“You have me absolutely mesmerized, Dr. Glass.”
“With one kiss?”
“It’s more than that.” He kissed her again, holding her, loving the feel of her in his arms. Her mouth was soft and sweet under his, allowi
ng him entrance.
“Quit worrying.” She stood on her tiptoes, drawing his head down for one last lingering kiss. “I’m never sick.”
“Just like my sister,” he said, but she laughed at him and pulled him inside to the table where Nick and Sierra were engaged in a pie-sharing moment.
Santana tried not to notice that his sister seemed to be acting completely unlike herself as she and Nick stabbed at one slice of pie, downing it without conversation.
“This is good,” Nick said, sounding surprised. “Ever had French silk pie? Miss Sugar brought us a piece on the house. Because of the tires and all the inconvenience,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“It was a make-up gift,” Sierra explained. “Since Nick snapped her head off. Additionally, she’s offered us the use of two rooms in her bed and breakfast behind the tearoom.”
“We’re not staying,” Santana said, “Nick can stay here and tend to his problem. You’re going home to bed. We’ve got Joe to think about, and Emma’s got a pet collection at her place.”
“Don’t fuss about me, brother,” Sierra said. “Don’t make any special plans because of me. I’m feeling better, thanks to either whatever she puts in this remedy bottle of hers, or what she puts in her pie. Best pie ever!”
He glanced at the window, seeing the snow falling faster, almost on cue.
“We could probably rent a truck from someone in this town,” Santana said thoughtfully, “or a vehicle of some kind. Something to get us home.”
“You should,” Nick agreed. “Don’t stay here because of me. Definitely get Sierra home to bed. Excuse me, I’m going to take some photos before the snow covers my car, and call my insurance company.”
Nick retreated with his cell phone. “What has gotten into you?” Santana asked Sierra.
“Nothing.” She looked at Emma. “You might call Jenny and ask her if she can go stay at your place to pet sit. Maybe she could even swing by and get Joe, if you think she could manage all of them.” His sister’s eyes had dark circles under them from the fever, but she certainly seemed to be feeling better. Santana had never seen pie cure a fever, and he didn’t believe in magic potions, or remedies—whatever “Miss Sugar” had put in the bottle—but something seemed to have worked.
“We can give her the code to the house and tell her where we have an open window, if she doesn’t mind getting Joe,” Sierra said to Santana.
“Do you really think we’ll have to stay the night?” Emma asked as they sat back down.
“Unfortunately, the thieves stripped the whole thing. Basically, they left only the axles.”
“Surely this town has a garage of some sort,” Emma said, and Santana shrugged.
“Let’s hope.”
Chapter Ten
“We might as well get cozy so you can rest,” Miss Sugar said, returning to the table after about half an hour had passed. “I don’t see any way you’re leaving town, to be honest.”
Emma was thrilled the woman had convenient accommodations. She’d called Jenny, and Jenny had been delighted to run by and get Joe, then bunk over at Emma’s with the pets, especially since Emma had just stocked the fridge. Jenny would have done the favor anyway, but the lure of food had definitely gotten a yelp of excitement out of her friend.
“Thank you for letting us stay with you.” Emma followed Sierra, who Miss Sugar had definitely taken a shine to. The men had stayed back to discuss the car angle. Nick was clearly out of sorts, though resigned, to the fact that his vehicle wouldn’t have driving ability for a couple of days. Santana was worried about his sister, though he tried to act relaxed. He kept glancing at the big plate glass windows, and Emma knew he was worried about the snowstorm. It really was coming down hard now, and Miss Sugar had cheerfully informed them that there was ice reported under the snow.
Jesus, Nick had muttered under his breath, and Emma had smiled in sympathy. He was so out of his element that it would be funny if Sierra weren’t ill.
Although Sierra seemed to be making a rapid recovery. She had color back in her face, and the dark circles under her eyes had lost the bruised look.
“Here we go!” Miss Sugar guided them to a couple of stuffed chairs in front of a nice gas-lit fireplace. “You sit there, angel.” She made sure Sierra was comfortable in front of the fire, and sat down across from them on a small sofa. “Well, sit,” she told Emma. “We might as well wait for your men to decide what they’re going to do.”
They knew what they had to do. They were just fighting it. It wasn’t in Nick’s or Santana’s natures to accept roadblocks. Nick was a man used to being able to buy what he needed in life, and Santana used his muscles and determination to solve his issues.
In this case, they were defeated by a trifecta of strange occurrences. She took the chair Miss Sugar indicated, glad to be near a fire.
“Thank you for the remedy. I feel much better.”
“Homeopathy,” their hostess said with conviction. “I’ve found it very useful over the years. You just had a little something bugging you. Fortunately, I had the right remedy on hand!”
Emma didn’t know if she believed in remedies, but even if it was just a placebo effect, she was thankful for it.
“Now let’s see,” Miss Sugar said, “I’m trying to remember what I know about Star Canyon. There was that fire there recently, of course. Terrible tragedy.”
Emma stiffened, not able to look at Sierra.
“Yes,” Sierra murmured.
“Melly Shelby was so upset. She said her cousin Mary was just devastated. They say there was an accelerant used in that fire. I can never figure out why people do such things. But then, I don’t understand why we’ve been hit by tire thieves.” She shook her head. “They say they come in from the big city, and work a small town over. Anybody who is parked on the street is fair game. But in broad daylight!”
Sierra leaned forward. “Who said an accelerant was used in the fire?”
“Well, it’s common knowledge,” Miss Sugar said. Emma glanced at Sierra, alarmed. It wasn’t common knowledge in Star Canyon—at least not in their close-knit group. And Captain Martin would have told them. He would have let Sierra and Santana know if there’d been any developments.
“Oh, it was definitely set on purpose. And it all had to do with that fire starter in Star Canyon,” Miss Sugar rambled on.
“Fire starter?” Emma asked.
“A firebug. They said there’s been a rash of small fires, but the one that took that poor fire captain’s life was the biggest. Such a shame. They said he was such a good man. Excuse me, I’ll see if the gentlemen need anything. Only way I know to keep men from being more upset than they already are is good food. Or at least it works around here.”
She strode off. Emma looked at Sierra.
“Why didn’t you tell her it was your father?”
“I don’t know,” Sierra stared off into space before taking a deep breath. “But I just learned more than I ever knew before. I wonder if Santana knows.”
“I doubt it. He would have told you.”
Sierra nodded. “He would have. That leaves me to wonder why Captain Martin hasn’t told us that he has more information.”
“You realize Miss Sugar is a gossip, in spite of her good intentions. And you know how small towns are, word travels fast that isn’t always true.”
Sierra rubbed her hands over her arms. “What do you think about Nick?”
“Nothing much. He’s nice. Seems genuine.” Emma looked at her friend. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone new to town. Everyone that I know, I’ve known all my life.”
Miss Sugar came back inside. “Well, let me get you to your rooms. Range Rover Man has decided to sleep inside his car, to keep it from further damage. His friend says he’s going to sit in here for a while, but that you two are to take the rooms.” Miss Sugar smiled. “I get the feeling they’re going to take turns keeping watch over the car.”
“I suppose that’s best.” Emma stood. “Thank you for letting
us stay, Miss Sugar.”
“Mr. Range Rover paid me up front, and thankfully, I’ve got comfortable rooms available. The snow is really piling up outside, but you’ll be warm in here. And I’ve got to dig out a blanket or two to give that young fellow. He doesn’t look like the type who’s done much bunking behind the wheel.”
Emma smiled. “I’m positive you’re right.”
They followed the friendly proprietress down the hall. “Each of these rooms has their own bath. I think you’ll find everything you need. If you want breakfast, it’s served at seven a.m. sharp. How are you feeling?” she asked Sierra.
“I can’t believe it, but I think you fixed me right up.”
Miss Sugar nodded. “Homeopathy’s great stuff. Goodnight, ladies.”
Emma stared after Miss Sugar as she trundled back down the hall with her purposeful gait. “I’m going to call and check on Jenny. If you start feeling ill again, let me know.”
“Thanks for everything, Emma.” She went into the room on the left side of the hall. “I didn’t mean to involve you in my adventures. But I’m glad you’re here.”
Emma smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Get some sleep.”
Sierra closed her door, and Emma put her backpack on the bed in her room. She called and checked on Jenny, made sure all was well at the clinic, then closed her door quietly and went down the hall. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but something told her Miss Sugar wasn’t done talking.
There was always more to learn from a gregarious soul like Miss Sugar.
She found her in the café, wiping down the tables. “Can I help?”
“Mercy, no. You go on to bed.” Miss Sugar smiled at her. “I’ve run this café and bed and breakfast for thirty years. Cleaning the tables at night and tidying up is how I get myself wound down for the next day.”
Emma thought that might be true—but then again, the Range Rover could be seen from just about any angle, and Emma had the strangest sensation Miss Sugar was more interested in that than in the tidiness of her café. Though to be fair, her food was good, and her tearoom very clean. But she kept glancing surreptitiously toward the window, and Emma felt certain it wasn’t just the snow that had her attention.