5. Emma
FIVE
Emma
The next morning, I tied Stella’s leash to a railing outside Silver Linings Coffee on Main Street. “I’ll be back in a few. You be good now. No more cozying up to strange men.”
Stella tried her sad doggy eyes on me. And of course, they worked.
“All right, I’ll buy you a treat if they have one. We could both use a pick-me-up.” There was a dog bowl here on the sidewalk, half full, so Stella had her drink already. Now, it was my turn.
The bell on the door jingled cheerfully as I pushed inside. I was supposed to meet Dixie Haines here later, but I’d shown up bright and early to scope things out myself. I hadn’t slept well and needed copious amounts of caffeine, stat.
Also, I planned to make use of the coffee shop’s wi-fi, since the wi-fi at my apartment was apparently broken. Among other things.
When I reached the counter, a tall woman with blond hair and a warm smile greeted me. “Morning, what can I get you?”
“One of those doggy treats.” I pointed at the bakery case. “And your biggest vanilla latte. With as many espresso shots as you can legally serve in one cup.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, this sounds like a challenge. I love it.” She tapped on her order screen. “Rough night?”
“It certainly wasn’t the best.” I wasn’t ready to call the Ponderosa a dump, like Ashford had. But the paper-thin walls, clanking pipes, and drafty windows weren’t ideal. Who knew it would get so cold at night here in the summer? Well, the internet probably knew. But not me.
The lumpy, thin mattress hadn’t helped with my restfulness either. Or the ominous-looking stains on the apartment ceiling. I hadn’t dealt with my car yet, either, but all that would wait until after coffee.
“I’ll throw in an iced mocha donut, on the house. Always perks me right up.” She winked.
“That sounds amazing. Thank you so much. Maybe my night wasn’t great, but you’re turning my morning around fast.” I handed her some cash. “Keep the change. I’m Emma, by the way. I’m new.”
“Piper. Wonderful to meet you. Is that your retriever out front? She’s gorgeous.”
“She is. And thank you.”
“Welcome to Silver Ridge.”
“I appreciate that.” At least some people around here knew how to make a newcomer feel welcome. While I still had her attention, I dug a leaflet for my music lessons from my messenger bag. I’d printed them before leaving California with the info Dixie had given me. “Any chance you have a community bulletin board and wouldn’t mind me posting this?”
Piper read the text on the paper, eyes widening. Then she looked over at me with a whole new level of understanding in her expression. “You’re the music teacher! I’ve heard about you.”
“All good, I hope.”
Her head tilted back and forth. “Well, I’m friends with Ashford O’Neal.”
My heart sank. Had he already been bad-mouthing me around town? What the heck was that man’s vendetta against me?
Thankfully, Piper laughed. “From the look on your face, I would guess you’ve met Ashford already. Don’t worry. His bark can be bad, but his bite is no worse than your golden retriever’s.” She nodded at the window, and I turned around to find Stella, tongue out, gleefully accepting tummy rubs from passersby.
“Maybe. But Stella likes just about everyone. Ashford definitely doesn’t like me.”
“Just ignore him when he’s being surly. That’s what I usually do.” She plucked the leaflet from my hand. “I’d be happy to hang this up for you. And I’ll spread the word. I love the idea of parent-and-tot music classes. Are you going to offer lessons for older kids? My son is seven.”
I nodded eagerly. “I plan to. I wanted to assess interest first. I play violin, piano, guitar, and I have experience with one-on-one lessons. That’s the kind of teaching I prefer. What do you think he’d be interested in?”
Slow down , I told myself. The woman was at work, and a couple of customers were in line behind me. But could you blame me for being excited? She was my first potential client.
“Not sure about which instrument. Ollie might be the drums type. He’s a fan of loud noises. But not so much sitting still.”
I laughed. “I’m sure we can figure out a good fit for him. And an affordable price. Private lessons don’t have to break the bank.”
“I would love that. I’m so glad you came in today, Emma. I’ll have your order right out.”
I turned away, fizzing with optimism. See ? I thought. This is going to be great .
While I waited for my latte, I walked over to the far side of the café, where bookshelves stretched along the wall offering used books for sale. I saw sections for both romance and thrillers, two of my favorite genres. At the other end of the shop, there was a fireplace and a collection of comfy, overstuffed chairs. No fire going, since it was June and sun shone through the front windows.
The most striking feature of the cafe, aside from the butcher-block coffee counter, was a huge handmade quilt with designs of mountains and trees hanging in a prominent spot.
I could already tell I would be spending a lot of time here. When I wasn’t teaching my classes and private lessons, of course. Take that, Ashford.
Piper called my name. I went up to grab my order, then sank into a chair by the fireplace. The first sip of my latte zipped through my veins. Dang, the woman had made good on her promise. I glanced over at the counter, catching Piper’s eye, and lifted my cup in thanks.
Once I’d connected to the coffee shop’s wi-fi, I checked my messages. I’d managed to text my mom, dad, and stepmom last night that I’d arrived. Cell service had been enough for that. But not much else. I sent my stepmom, Madison, a longer check-in, followed by a message to my uncle Aiden and his wife over in Hartley. I’d have to get over there to visit them one of these days. Once things had settled down for me in Silver Ridge.
Against my better judgment, I logged on to my socials. My friends from music school hadn’t written. Seemed like they wanted to pretend I didn’t exist anymore.
That hurt more than anything else. The fact that none of them had given me the benefit of the doubt in that awful scandal.
But I did have posts and messages waiting from my high school and college besties. Thankfully, none of them knew about what had happened last semester, and they never would.
I sank my teeth into the mocha donut, moaning at the perfect play of coffee, chocolate, and carbs across my tongue. Piper was officially my favorite person in Silver Ridge.
I still had a few minutes until Dixie was supposed to arrive, so I poked around online. And then, without giving myself much chance to think about it, I googled Ashford O’Neal and Silver Ridge, Colorado .
I took another bite of donut while my eyes scanned the results. There was a website and some social pages for O’Neal Martial Arts. Somehow, the man had managed a smile for the cover photo of his business page. It annoyed me how handsome he was. Also, the way his biceps and pecs popped beneath his tight T-shirt.
Moving on.
I perused the next few results, mostly killing time. But then my eye stopped on a news article. Highway Fatality Under Investigation .
I clicked on the article and gasped as I read it.
It was from three years ago, and recounted how a young mother named Lori O’Neal had been hit and killed by a car on the highway outside of town.
Her husband’s name? Ashford O’Neal.
I remembered that small white cross I had seen yesterday. It hadn’t looked that old. Could that have been for Lori? My heart went out to Ashford and his family. Especially to his daughter, who I assumed was the one Ashford had mentioned yesterday. That poor girl. To lose her mom like that, in such a tragic way…
In fact, the entire incident yesterday hit differently. Ashford’s reaction to seeing me out there. The way he had seemed so angry. Had he been thinking of his wife’s death?
I finished reading the article, followed by another I found from about a week afterward, which cleared the driver of the car of any wrongdoing. Lori had run out onto the highway at night. The driver of the car hadn’t been able to stop in time. They’d called the paramedics right away, but it had been too late. A tragic accident.
She’d run onto the highway. Why? What had she been running from?
“Emma? Is that you?”
I looked up and found an older woman standing beside my chair. Chin-length white hair, reading glasses on a long chain.
“Dixie?”
“Guilty as charged.”
I stood up and gave her a hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”
We’d been communicating by email so far. But I’d sent her a scan of my driver’s license for the credit and background checks, which was probably how she’d known what I looked like. Now that I was standing, it was obvious how petite she was. Way shorter than me, and I was no giant. Dixie wore a pair of shiny gold platform sneakers, which added an inch or two to her frame. Besides making a dramatic fashion statement, naturally.
“I love the shoes,” I said.
“Why, thank you.” Dixie held me by the shoulders to look me over. “Aren’t you a stunner. The young men of Silver Ridge are in for a shake-up. We’ve got plenty of eligible bachelors eager to show a girl a good time, if the walks of shame I see every morning are anything to judge by.”
I snorted a laugh, my face heating. Dixie did not have a quiet voice, and I was pretty sure half the coffee shop was listening to us.
“Any man waiting for you back home in California?” she asked pointedly. “Or women, for that matter?”
“No men for me at the moment. But I’m not interested in romance anytime soon. I plan to stay out of trouble.” I’d had more than enough man-related trouble already.
She hummed. “Doesn’t sound like fun to me, honey, but you do you. Shall we walk over to the building? Show you the space you’re renting for your music classes?”
“That would be great.” I grabbed the rest of my latte, waving goodbye to Piper.
On the way out, I stopped to untie Stella’s leash. Dixie rubbed Stella’s flanks and accepted a flurry of face-kisses. “What a sweetheart. Maisie is going to love this one.”
“Maisie?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” Was I wrong, or had Dixie’s tone taken a turn toward mischievous? “I have two Lhasa Apsos, but they live in Florida now with my boyfriend Pedro. He’s Cuban. Such a gentleman. Barely speaks any English, and I only know three words in Spanish. It’s heaven. Would you like to know what the three words are?”
“I will pass.” I struggled to breathe as I suppressed another laugh. “Do you think you’ll move there permanently?”
“Oh, no. I’m a snow bird. I love the mountains in the summer. Plus my son and his hubby live in Golden. Have to get those grandkid visits in.”
As we walked down Main Street, Dixie pointed out the sights to me. The clock tower, the florist, the best boutiques. “Stay away from the Seafood Hut. They ship their trout in frozen. And there’s the vet. You’ll want their number. I’ll text it to you.”
“Okay,” I said, just trying to keep up. Those gold sneakers moved fast. Stella trotted along, taking it all in and stopping occasionally to give a light pole a sniff.
We turned onto a side street, this one dotted with colorful gingerbread houses converted into businesses.
“Before we get there, I’m afraid there’s a problem we need to discuss,” Dixie said.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“His name’s Ashford.”
Ugh. My mood soured. “Actually, I’m well aware of that problem. I met him last night. He’s not happy about sharing the building with me.”
Dixie side-eyed me. “It’s not personal. Ashford can be a bit…territorial. He’s a single father. Been through more downs than ups. He’d do anything for that little girl. She lost her momma a few years ago.”
Once again, sympathy rose in my chest. How could I stay annoyed at him when he’d been through something like that?
“I stumbled onto an article about his wife’s death.” Maybe not stumbled. More like I’d been online-stalking the man. “Terrible thing to happen.”
“It was. Lori was a wonderful mother. But truth is, the loss hit Ashford the hardest.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
As we walked, I had the strangest feeling. The hairs rose on my neck, and unpleasant tingles broke out across my back. I looked behind us, wondering if somebody else was there, but the street was quiet.
It was probably just the subject matter we’d been discussing. Lori’s death.
“Something the matter?” Dixie asked.
“No, sorry. Just looking around.”
A block later, we came up to a huge two-story brick building. It was painted blue, with white trim and a sign reading O’Neal Martial Arts . “We’ll order a sign for your music school and put it in the front window there,” Dixie said, pointing.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a school. And it’s just for the summer.”
“Shouldn’t sell yourself short, hon. I say, wherever you are, make sure people know it.” She unlocked the door and ushered me inside. “I’ll give you the two-cent tour.”
“Can I bring Stella in with us? She’s very well-behaved.”
“Fine by me. Wouldn’t want her to get lonely.”
Just inside, there was a small lobby space with a rectangle of one-way glass looking into a teaching area. Floor mats were stacked along one side of the classroom, along with other neatly arranged equipment.
I braced myself to see Ashford again, but it seemed no one else was here.
Dixie showed me a bathroom, a small kitchen, and the storage closet, which held more supplies. Overall, I was impressed. It was tidy, but far from sterile. I pictured where I might store my instruments and the items I needed for the tot classes. My keyboard would be the most difficult, since it was a full-size digital piano. I’d need to get creative there. It was doable though.
“What do you think?” Dixie asked. “No regrets, I hope?”
“This will work great. Might need a bit of rearranging. But I like it.”
Most importantly, the vibe was right. I could imagine kids here, learning and having fun. Parents connecting. A community. Ashford had already done that work. No wonder he was protective of what he’d built.
“It’s lovely,” I added.
She opened another door. “This is Ashford’s office.” It was a tiny room, filled to the brim with boxes and a paper-strewn desk. A purple stuffed dragon sat in his desk chair. “Looks like Maisie’s been in here.”
“The dragon is appropriate.” I would stay out of the office, lest he breathe fire at me.
Dixie smiled as she shut the door. “I’ve known Ashford since he was a boy. He’s wary of change because he’s dealt with too much of it. But when it comes to what’s good for him, he’s not so great at seeing it.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Knowing what I did now, I could look past his icy reception. So long as he stopped trying to scare me away from running my classes.
There had to be plenty of room here for the two of us. I was willing to share if he was.
I asked Dixie if I could stick around for a while after she left, even though my lease hadn’t technically started yet. I had planning to do.
Stella lay in a sunny spot beneath the front window, while I set down my messenger bag and took out my journal and gel pens. I made a circuit of the first floor again, this time jotting down ideas and sketching out how I envisioned arranging things. I would have to check with Ashford and get his input, of course. But I wanted to have a proposal that he couldn’t refuse.
This man didn’t want to make room for me. So I’d have to make it as painless as possible, while also letting him know he couldn’t scare me off.
But I could still make it fun.
As I made notes in my journal, I found myself humming a melody. I couldn’t place it at first. It took me a moment to realize it was something new. For the first time in months, I’d actually found a glimmer of inspiration.
I sat down crosslegged in the middle of the classroom and tried to capture the notes on paper before they flew away.
But I wasn’t fast enough. The melody evaporated from my head as soon as I tried to write it down.
“Why does this keep happening?” I asked. I heard Stella’s collar jingling, though she stayed where I’d asked her to. Because she was a very good girl.
Why couldn’t my brain be a good girl too? Just cooperate with me on remembering a simple melody?
Sighing, I pulled up some music on my phone instead. I found my favorite playlist of the moment from the artist Ayla Maxwell. She was an absolute beast on the piano, and she added in poppy vocals and inventive lyrics, which had made her a legend even though she’d only been recording a few years. I was in awe of her. Not like I wanted to be an international pop star, but the woman was a powerhouse of creativity.
If just a little of that fairy dust could rub off on me, I would take it. Didn’t matter if I was performing up on a stage or taking a class full of moms and toddlers through a lineup of silly songs. I wanted to give it my very best.
I stood up and tucked my journal under my arm, head bopping as I went into the lobby.
And then I nearly screamed as a tiny person jumped out in front of me.
“Hi. Who are you?”
My hand went to my chest, rubbing it like I needed to get my heart going again.
A girl stood there, around five or six years old, with bright green eyes and a white ribbon tied in her dark hair. This had to be Ashford’s daughter. Which meant her dad probably wasn’t far behind. I paused the music on my phone.
“I’m Emma. I’m going to be teaching music classes here.”
“Wow, really?” Her little nose wrinkled up. “But what about my dad? He does classes here too. He’s the best teacher ever. I take Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.” She said the words slowly, pronouncing them carefully. Like she had been practicing on it a lot.
“I know, I’ve met your dad. We’re going to share.”
She shrugged. “Oh, okay. What was that music you were just listening to? Was that you? Are you a singer? Can you teach me to sing?”
Before I could answer any of her questions, Stella got up from the ground and came over to say hello. As soon as Maisie saw her, she gasped. “Are you kidding me? You have a puppy?”
I smiled as I went to hold Stella back. I could tell she was getting excited at the prospect of meeting a new person, and Stella adored kids.
“She’s not really a puppy anymore, but she loves to play, and she’s very friendly. This is Stella.”
The girl waved. “Hi Stella, I’m Maisie. I always wanted a dog.”
“You can pet her if you like.”
Maisie’s eyes went comically round. She only hesitated a half second before going to her knees and hugging Stella around the neck.
Tears sprang into my eyes, because I was a total softie like that.
Stella sat calmly, smiling and panting as Maisie petted her. It wasn’t my business, but I couldn’t help thinking of how this little girl had lost her mom. Dogs were the best at providing unconditional love and comfort.
“She’s really nice,” Maisie said.
“She is. Stella’s my social director.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Stella makes friends for me wherever I go.”
“Can I be friends with you?”
“If your dad says it’s okay.”
She studied me, then nodded. “I like your smile. It’s a friendly smile. You must have lots of friends.”
“Thank you, Maisie. But here’s a secret about me.” I leaned in. “I’m a little bit shy.”
Her eyes widened again. “Me too! It’s not a secret, though. I’m not supposed to have secrets.”
“Oh, hmm. That’s fair.” I’d stepped into one of those kid-safety things. “I didn’t really mean secret. It’s just something most people don’t realize about me. I’m an introvert. I like having time to myself to think, which means I don’t always feel like peopling. But Stella helps remind me to be social.”
“What’s that fancy book?”
“This?” I held up my journal. It was bound in blue leatherette with embossed flowers. “It’s the place I write down what I’m thinking. Like a diary.”
“I can read a lot of books. Even ones with chapters. And I can write really good, too.”
“I bet you can. I bet you’re top of the class.”
Maisie laughed, a sweet and musical sound.
I decided to turn Ayla Maxwell back on, and I let Maisie flip through the pages of my journal while she petted Stella with her other hand. I doubted a six-year-old could read my messy cursive. I could barely read it myself.
“Mais?” a deep voice called out, just before Ashford appeared in the hallway.
The man did cut an excellent figure. Ashford didn’t have a ball cap on today. His brown hair was rumpled, and he wore snug athletic pants and a black T-shirt with the silhouette of a fighter on it. A martial artist? Was that a term?
Unfortunately, his handsome face turned stormy in an instant. “What’s going on here?”
I stood up. “Dixie let me in.”
“It’s not the first of the month yet.”
“True, but I needed to do some planning.”
He flinched. “Can you turn that noise off? It’s like nails on a chalkboard.”
Okay, so not a fan of Ayla Maxwell. I pressed pause on my phone screen.
“Maisie, you shouldn’t be down here,” Ashford said, though he’d softened his tone. “I asked you to head upstairs while I was making my phone calls. You didn’t listen.”
“But the dog, Daddy. I was petting her.”
“There shouldn’t be a dog here either. Go upstairs and pick up your toys, monkey. Aunt Grace will be here soon. I need to talk to Miss Emma.”
“But Daddy?—”
“No buts, please. Go.”
“Fine.” Maisie gave Stella another hug, showing a streak of defiance, then scowled at her dad as she marched past him. The two of them looked so much alike it almost made me laugh.
“Six going on sixteen,” Ashford muttered.
“Maisie seems great.”
His glare refocused on me. “You can’t just come and go. My apartment is upstairs. This is my home. I need to know who’s here when I send my kid inside.”
So much for all those sympathetic feelings I was having. For the daughter, yes. The dad? Not so much.
“Can we not do this, please? Let’s fast forward.” I made a grumpy face and dropped my voice. “ I’m Ashford, I’m super territorial and unreasonable .” Then I smiled. “Oh, hey, I’m Emma. I’m a nice, innocent music teacher. Dixie did a full background check on me. I lock doors, and I would never allow an unvetted stranger around your kid. Thanks Emma, I feel much better . The end.”
I held out my hands like I was saying, Ta-da .
His frown softened. Just a tad.
I picked up my journal from the floor where Maisie had left it. “If you’ve got a few minutes, I had some ideas to make room for my stuff. I don’t have that much. I promise.”
He shook his head, glancing away. “This isn’t a good time. I need to meet a client for a personal training session in ten, and my sister’s on her way. I was just on the phone with the mechanic. He’s a friend of my brother. I arranged for your car to be towed, and it arrived at the shop, but I didn’t have your number.”
“Seriously? Oh my gosh, thank you. That was on my list for today, but I was worried about the cost. I’m a little short on funds at the moment.”
He sighed like I was the biggest inconvenience he’d ever encountered. “I can make sure you get the friends and family discount.”
“That’s…surprisingly nice of you.”
“It happens on rare occasions.”
“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? Do you actually have a sense of humor in there somewhere?”
“Maybe. It’s rusty. Might not be salvageable.”
A smile tugged at my lips. Stella sensed her opportunity and approached, nudging Ashford’s hand with her nose. He ruffled her ears.
“How are the Ponderosa Apartments?” he asked.
I tensed up, smiling again but with my lips closed. “Just fine.”
“You sure? You might want to talk to Dixie. She could try to help you find another apartment. Assuming there’s anything available at this point, since the summer tourists have already arrived.” His tone was full of judgment. As if he was really saying, A smarter person would’ve figured this out ages ago .
“I can handle my own living arrangements.”
He shrugged like he didn’t believe that.
My frustration broke through.
“What’s your issue with me, really?” I asked. “Is it that I’m young, and you think that makes me irresponsible? Is it that I’m not from here? Or you’re judging me because my car broke down? What?”
“I don’t have an issue with you. Not a personal one.”
“Bullshit.” I sighed and grabbed my bag. I’d had enough of him for today. Maybe Ashford wasn’t a terrible guy, but he didn’t seem to think much of me. “I’ll be back later.”
“On the first of the month.”
“Nope. Before. So we can plan where my stuff will go.”
He made a grumbly sound. Too bad. I didn’t need his permission to be here.
When the summer ended, he could rejoice that I was gone if he wanted. For now, I was sticking around Silver Ridge. He had to get used to it. I wasn’t going anywhere.