Blizzard in the Bay

by Kathi Daley

  I was sorry that Kate hadn’t been able to make it to this retreat. She had been very much present during the retreat where I’d first met Dax. I remembered the way she’d smiled with pure joy when one of the writers made a breakthrough. She really did love all her little chicks and seemed to care about their careers as much as she cared about her own.

  I glanced at Dax as he began his closing statements. If there was one thing I was absolutely sure of, it was that I would never look at him the same way again. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been in his situation and my professor had entered a pirated story I’d claimed to have written in a contest, but I was sure that if I’d come across a man with a knife in his chest, I would have called for help rather than slinking away to avoid confrontation. I hated that things had turned out the way they had for Dax, Train, and everyone else involved, but I wasn’t unhappy about the fact that the silly schoolgirl crush I’d had on Dax all those years was finally totally and completely over.

  Georgia announced that dessert would be set out buffet style because she had several offerings and wanted to allow the group to graze to their hearts’ content while they finished the trivia tournament they’d started during their stay. I excused myself and headed toward the kitchen. I pulled out my phone and dialed Colt’s number.

  “Hey. How are things?” I asked.

  “Mostly good. I still have a few obstacles to work around, but I feel good about the progress that was made today. I did manage to confirm that the money Train felt Frank owed him was stolen.”

  “So, Frank is being detained along with Tank?” I asked.

  “He is. I guess this week’s special at the jail is two for one.”

  I smiled at Colt’s attempt at humor. “Have you eaten?”

  “Does a doughnut with my morning coffee count?”

  “Not really. Georgia made a brisket. I can make you up a plate if you want to come by.”

  “I would love that.”

  “Just come to the cottage. I’ll grab some food and meet you there.”

  I made a huge plate of meat, potatoes, and vegetables, filled a bowl with salad, and then a second plate with a selection of desserts. I could hear the others in the main living area of the inn working in teams to get the most correct answers. After I’d carried the food next door, I went back to put away the food I’d left out on the counter. From the sound of Georgia’s laughter, I thought the game had managed to engage her.

  Back at the cottage, I started the fire, made coffee, and let the dogs out for a bathroom break. Colt arrived just as Rufus came out of my bedroom to grace us with his presence.

  Colt looked exhausted, but also a lot less stressed than he had the last time I’d seen him. I served him his dinner on the dining table just off the living area. I sipped a cup of coffee while he ate. I was going to ask for any updates he might have on the case but instead chose another topic of conversation. Tank was behind bars, the guns were confiscated, and combined with the evening’s events, I was sure that Colt would get the additional proof he needed to close the case. If something was going on with Dr. Bob and his secret patient, Colt would dig up the evidence he needed to prove that as well.

  “You must be due for some time off,” I said as he dug into Georgia’s brisket.

  “I have quite a bit of time coming. I hate to waste it, so I figure I’ll just save it until the next time the kids are in town.”

  I sat on my hands, so I didn’t start flapping them about the way I sometimes did when I was nervous. “I’ve been thinking about getting out of the snow for a few days. The inn is busy through Valentine’s Day and then dead through the end of February. I have an old friend who has a condo right on the beach in Florida. She said I could use it. I don’t suppose you’d want to come along?”

  Colt looked up from his plate. “You want me to come to Florida with you?”

  I nodded. “Just for a few days. Maybe a week.”

  “And we would be going alone? Just the two of us?”

  I swallowed hard. “That was the idea.” I felt myself beginning to chicken out. “You and I are friends, and friends do go on trips together sometimes.”

  “That’s true,” he agreed. “And it would be nice to get out of the snow for a few days.”

  “The condo is really nice. I’ve stayed there before. And the beach where it’s located is pretty isolated. Perfect for long walks.”

  “It does sound nice.”

  I took a breath and then continued. “When my friend offered me the unit, it did run through my mind that not only would it be nice to relax on a sandy beach, but it would be wonderful to have time with my amazing friend, and perhaps have a chance to get to know him even better.”

  Colt set down his fork. He turned slightly, so he was looking directly at me. “Okay. I’m in. Time to relax and to get to know each other better sounds like exactly the sort of time off I need.”

  I smiled, and he returned to his dinner.

  Okay. So we hadn’t exactly exchanged vows of undying love, but Colt knew me well, and I suspected he knew exactly what it was I was trying very hard not to actually say. I also had to assume that by agreeing to come along with me, he was letting me know in his own way that he recognized the risk I was taking and was letting me know that he was willing to take this journey with me. I couldn’t say that I knew Colt well, at least not as well as I would have liked, but I did know that I considered myself lucky to have him in my life, wherever our journey might take us from here.

  Next from Kathi Daley Books

  Preview:

  Friday

  Callie Considers

  Submitted for the January 27th issue of the Foxtail News

  By Calliope Rose Collins

  Love, I’ve learned, has many faces.

  In its purest form, it is giving and selfless, demanding nothing in return. It bolsters and enriches, and when cultivated in the soul and nurtured in the heart, it can sustain us through even our darkest hours.

  But love, when born purely from desire, can also be selfish and demanding. The need to possess can burn hot, bringing us passion and excitement, but eventually, the intense flame will destroy itself and simply fade away.

  I’ve lived with love in all its guises. I’ve been strengthened by its promise and weakened by its loss. I’m both a better and a lesser person for having made peace with its many faces.

  Six months ago, a matchmaker known only as Ms. Cupid appeared on the local scene and began stealthily helping lonely souls find love by arranging the perfect date for the perfect pairing. Not only has Ms. Cupid been extremely successful at making these matches, but she appears to have her own reason for doing what she does. As far as I can tell, she has yet to charge anyone a single dollar for her admittedly unique service, though she seems to have put quite a lot of time into her project.

  While Cupid of classic mythology used his magic arrow to bring hope to the lovelorn, Ms. Cupid, it seems, has added her own twist — a secret ingredient which involves a dose of technology mixed with carefully screening potential clients. After speaking to several of the matched couples in preparation for penning this column, I’ve found that, by and large, those lonely souls desperately seeking a match, have been more than happy with the outcome of Ms. Cupid’s service. One client called her methodology unconventional yet effective, while another referred to the service as insightful and life-changing.

  Over the next few weeks, I plan to interview each of the matched couples in the hope of debunking the mystery surrounding this unidentified woman and her unprecedented success. I invite you, my faithful readers, to come along as I peel back the layers to determine whether these seemingly perfect pairings are due to some sort of supernatural insight, chance, or simply science.

  I glanced toward the attic window where my Aunt Gracie’s cat, Alastair, waited for me to finish my weekly column, Callie Considers, for next week’s issue of the Foxtail News. Although I’d been given a desk at the office in town, I still preferred to
work from my quiet little corner of the attic of the lakefront home where I’d grown up and currently lived with Gracie. “So, what do you think?” I asked as I hit the print button.

  “Meow.”

  “It’s brief,” I admitted as I looked down at the printed product. “But I think it’s a solid intro to the series I plan to write. I just hope Dex likes it,” I referred to my boss and editor, Dex Heatherton. I hit send on the file and sent it off. Getting up from the desk, I headed across the room, out the door, and down the stairs. Alastair followed behind.

  “You’re up and about early,” Gracie said after I entered the kitchen where she was having breakfast with her friend and groundskeeper, Tom Walden.

  “I wanted to head into town early today. I need to meet with Dex about my column for next week, and then I have several interviews set up for my Ms. Cupid series.”

  “How’d the column you’ve been working on this week turn out?” she asked.

  I handed the printed copy to her to read. I watched as she narrowed her gaze and raised her brow. I supposed I had exaggerated my own experience with love just a bit, and I supposed she knew it.

  She glanced in my direction. “It’s very poetic.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, and you’d be correct in the fact that, due to the family curse, I haven’t actually enjoyed the varied love life I hinted at in the intro, but I thought about it and decided that a little embellishment was harmless. I suppose I could have left the part about having experienced love in all its guises out of the narrative, but I figured it would make for a better column if my readers assumed I’d had an extensive love life and therefore knew what I was talking about.”

  Tom didn’t say anything, but I did notice he tightened his lips when I mentioned the family curse. I guess I didn’t blame him. I suspected he loved Gracie, and I was certain she loved him in return, but I also knew she would never act on her feelings due to her belief in the curse we believed was responsible for the deaths of her sister and my parents.

  “Will you be home for dinner?” she asked, I was sure was more to fill the silence than to discover the answer to the question since I was rarely home for dinner on Fridays.

  “No. I don’t think so. Cass and I have our volunteer shift at the animal shelter, and we usually grab a bite after. I did confirm with Paisley that she is going to her friend, Anna’s, after school, so we didn’t need to worry about picking her up.” Paisley is our next-door neighbor who has lived with her grandmother since the death of her mother, and Gracie and I helped out where we could. “I also need to line up the interviews with those matched individuals I haven’t been able to contact.” I glanced at Tom. “Doesn’t Warren Smith belong to the same lodge you do?”

  “Yeah, Warren is a member. Why do you ask?”

  “He’s one of Ms. Cupid’s most recent success stories. I’ve been trying to track him down in the hope of lining up an interview, but he isn’t returning my calls. I wondered if you would encourage him to call me if you see him before I’m able to make contact with him.”

  “Warren Smith signed up for a dating service?” Tom looked shocked by the news.

  “Actually, he didn’t sign up,” I answered. “Madeline Johnson signed up, and Ms. Cupid somehow determined that Warren would be Madeline’s perfect mate, so even though he wasn’t one of her clients, she arranged for them to meet.”

  “So Ms. Cupid matches her clients to random people in the community whether they’ve signed on for the service or not?” Gracie asked.

  “That’s what I understand.” I tilted my head slightly as I stopped to consider this. “I know that seems odd. When I first heard about Madeline’s pairing with Warren, I was surprised that any dating service would match clients with non-clients, but it does appear that at least some of the couplings attributed to Ms. Cupid have been between a client looking for love and a non-client who was selected by Ms. Cupid to be a perfect match.”

  Tom slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Seems invasive. Besides, how would this Ms. Cupid even know enough about the person she planned to match her client with to know they’d get along if he or she hadn’t filled out a questionnaire?”

  “I’m really not sure,” I admitted. “I assume Ms. Cupid resides in the community and knows the people who live here. The matchmaking service doesn’t appear to be a normal dating site where clients sign up and are matched with each other based on a dating profile. It seems to be a lot more personalized.”

  “You said that Ms. Cupid arranged for Madelyn to run into Warren. How exactly did that play out?” Gracie asked.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “According to Madelyn, who I briefly spoke with on the phone, she received a text from Ms. Cupid after she was accepted as a client telling her to go to the lumber yard and ask to speak to someone named Warren.”

  “How did Ms. Cupid know that Madelyn could find Warren at the lumber yard?” Gracie asked.

  “Warren owns the lumber yard, so I imagine that Ms. Cupid had reason to suspect he’d be there. Anyway, Madelyn was told to ask Warren for help selecting wood for bookshelves. She was instructed to draw out the process and ask a lot of questions. Madelyn did as she was instructed, which provided the initial meeting between Madelyn and Warren. I guess once they met, it really was attraction at first sight. Warren offered to help Madelyn build the bookshelves, and now they are seriously dating.”

  “That’s crazy,” Tom said.

  I shrugged. “I agree. In fact, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Ms. Cupid is using some sort of fairy dust to make people fall in love. My plan is to talk to as many of Ms. Cupid’s matches as possible and see if I can figure out exactly what sort of magic she employs to produce such a huge success rate.”

  “I assume she only takes on clients she feels she has a match for,” Tom said.

  “I would agree with that,” I answered. “Based on my research, it appears as if Ms. Cupid only accepts a very small percentage of the people who apply as clients. I will say, however, that once she accepts you as a client, the odds of you finding true love within a few months is pretty darn high.”

  “I suppose if I was desperately seeking romance, which I’m not,” Gracie stated firmly, “I might succumb to this sort of thing if I’d tried it on my own and gotten nowhere.”

  “That’s because you are the outgoing and curious sort who is willing to try new things. Not everyone is.” Tom pointed out.

  Gracie winked at him. He smiled. If there were ever two people who should have spent a lifetime together, it was them.

  “So, what are the two of you up to today?” I asked mostly to break the awkward silence.

  “I’m going to start painting the den, which your aunt wants to convert to a sewing space,” Tom said.

  “You’re going to turn the den into a sewing room?” I asked Gracie.

  She nodded. “Paisley has shown an interest in learning to sew. I thought I’d teach her, and it does help if the workspace is outfitted correctly. I’m painting the room in a pale blue. Learning to sew can be stressful, and blue is a soothing color. You can join us if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied. Gracie had tried to teach me to sew when I was around Paisley’s age, but I’d hated it.

  “I’m going to head into town while Tom works on the painting,” Gracie added. “I’ve been trying to drop in on Nora a couple of times a week.”

  Nora Nottaway was a good friend of Gracie’s, and like Gracie, she’d lived in Foxtail Lake her entire life. Nora had been diagnosed with cancer the previous summer and had been receiving treatment. Based on what Gracie had told me, she’d responded well, and there was genuine hope that she would make a full recovery. I guess with something like this, only time would reveal the answer to the prayers being offered by most everyone in the community.

  I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to get going if I was going to meet with Dex and make it to my fi
rst appointment of the day on time. “I really need to run,” I said as I poured my coffee into a travel mug. “Tell her that I’ve been holding a special place in my heart and my prayers for her.”

  “I will, dear. Have a nice day.”

  I waved to my favorite senior couple and then headed out to my four-wheel drive. Although it hadn’t snowed all that much in the past few days, it had been cold, which made the roads icy, so I drove slowly. I loved the scenery along my trip into town from the lake house, where Gracie and I lived. The majestic mountains in the background provided the perfect backdrop for the wide-open meadows and currently frozen rivers.

  “Morning Gabby,” I greeted the receptionist at Foxtail News after I arrived in the small office and print shop. “Is he in?”

  “In his office,” Gabby answered.

  I set my purse on the desk that had recently been assigned to me, grabbed a note pad and pen, and then headed down the hall to Dex’s office. I knocked on the door once, and he called for me to come in.

  “I read the column you sent over,” he greeted after I opened the door and entered his office.

  “So, what do you think?” I sat down on the chair across the desk from him.

  “I like it.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “It’s seasonal with a wide appeal, and there is an element of mystery that your readers seem to love. Have you set up interviews with all of the individuals matched by Ms. Cupid?”

  “I have interviews set up with eighty percent of the matched pairs, but there are a few individuals who are being evasive,” I answered. “I’m working on that and have enough to get started. I’m planning to feature several couples in each of the columns that are scheduled to run in February.”