25. Coming Soon! Touch The Moon
Book One in the upcoming Fire Lake Series
SNEAK PEEK!
F aith Winters hadn’t planned on staying in Fire Lake any longer than it took to gas up and grab some food. It was supposed to be a pit stop on the way to Maine, nothing more. But the car she’d bought for five hundred bucks only four days earlier had other plans, and about three miles from town the engine started making clunking noises. Two miles later the beat up chevy began to shake and growl, and one mile after that it died on the side of the road in a cloud of smoke less than ten feet from a sign that read . . .
Welcome to Fire Lake Est. 1799
A place like no other on God’s good earth
Population 8,908
Which was why as dusk approached on an early day in June, Faith walked into town with all the belongings she ownedstuffed into a backpack, pulling on a tired navy suitcase with only one working wheel, her dog Taco at her side.
The town was cute, a slice of Americana that most folks didn’t believe existed anymore. There were large brick homes with big front yards, the kind that had been built to last, sheltered on tree lined streets that screamed character. As she slowly walked up Main Street toward the center of town, she passed large flower boxes overflowing with petunias—pinks, purples and whites—as well as baskets filled with ivy and pink begonias that swayed gently from the streetlamps. She noted a lot of pretty shops with whimsical names like The Pastry Chef, A Single Note, which she assumed was a music store, Fresh Fairies (clothing and gifts), A Bit of Magic (antiques), and Sprinkles and Cream, a coffee house. The names were too quaint. Too vanilla. Too much like The Gilmore Girls and it made Faith nervous.
Nothing was this perfect.
The coffee house was closed, and annoyed, she kept walking, dragging her suitcase behind her, her shepherd/retriever mix tugging on his leash and sniffing everything he could. She knew she needed to find a place to sit — to eat and recharge — or she’d end up like her car, broken down and out of gas.
Faith hiked up her backpack for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes and sighed. She was so damn tired. For a second, hot tears poked at her eyes, but she forced them away and emptied her mind. She wasn’t going to cry and wouldn’t think about the reason for her being here. About the shame and hurt.
“I can’t,” she whispered fiercely. After a moment or two she slowly exhaled and moved on.
Eventually she spied an elderly man perched on a bench outside the pharmacy, his legs spread out and relaxed. He was dressed in denim pants and a blue plaid shirt buttoned up nice and crisp, in spite of the heat. He leaned forward as she approached, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Good evening,” he said, a slow drawl coloring his words with the kind of laid-back flavor you’d expect in a town with a coffee shop called Sprinkles and Cream. “I expect you’re new here.”
Faith propped up her suitcase and rolled her tired shoulders. “Anywhere good to eat?” Her voice was polite. Neutral.
“Sure is,” the man replied, taking off his faded and worn fedora to reveal a full head of white curly hair. “But not much open on a Sunday after five except the diner.” His eyes lingered on her suitcase. “You looking for a place to stay?”
“I am.” She hiked up the backpack. “Is there a motel or something cheap close by?” She paused. “A hostel maybe that welcomes pets?”
“I don’t exactly know what a hostel is, but we don’t like motels around here. They tend to fill up with the unsavory sort.” His bushy eyebrows rose. “You know, the kind who like to stay by the hour.”
He sounded so offended that in another life she might have laughed or giggled. But all the light had fallen away from her so instead, she frowned. “Well, I need more than an hour. I guess I’m out of luck.”
He sat back. “You could try Trixie’s, but I think she’s full up with a marching band from out of state.” Then he glanced up the street. “Your best bet would be to ask at the diner. Talk to Tully.”
He told her to keep walking, and she’d eventually find the place, which was open 24 hours and served up some good eats and a respectable cup of coffee.
“Thank you.” Faith grabbed her suitcase.
“Where did you say you were from?” he asked, scratching at the whiskers on his chin.
“I didn’t.”
His eyes never left hers and she knew he expected some sort of answer.
“Someplace far away from here.” It was all she was willing to give.
“You don’t say.” He eyed up Taco and frowned. “You might have to leave your dog tied up outside. They don’t belong indoors.”
Taco’s ears moved forward, and he wagged his tail while she offered a small smile and thanked the man. She then continued on her way, bypassing the town center, which again, looked like something out of a Rockwell painting. There was a large white pavilion surrounded by gardens and trees and benches, and a fountain that spouted water from between the teeth of a large wolf. Eventually, she saw the diner across the street. It was hard to miss with its neon pink sign that glowed, The best there is. Twenty-four hours .
Faith crossed over with no issues and felt some relief when she spied four tables on the sidewalk just to the left of the front door. She gave Taco a pat on the head and tied him to one of them, before tucking her suitcase under a chair. Taco was generally friendly, but he was also possessive and had the kind of bark that meant business. She doubted anyone would try to steal her bag.
A quick glance down at her clothes made her wince — her jean shorts were stained from when she’d spilled coffee on them the day before, and her white, long-sleeve T-shirt was a rumpled mess, a bi-product of sleeping in her car. Her long auburn hair was tucked up into her cap, and with a makeup free face she looked closer to twenty than her actual age, which was twenty-seven.
Just turned twenty-seven, she thought, thinking back to her birthday dinner a few months earlier when her world had come tumbling down. Shit. There were those damn tears again. She angrily wiped them away and took a moment. There was no point in crying. No point in remembering. There was just . . . no point.
Faith tugged on the brim of her ball cap, then lowered it as much as she could without impairing her vision. With her backpack firmly in place, she signalled Taco to sit and went inside.
The diner wasn’t as big as she’d first thought, with a smattering of tables, three of which were occupied by two couples and a lone male with his back turned to her. That left three open tables and a long counter that sat at least ten. Currently all of the stools were free except the one farthest away where a woman sat, hunched over, busy on her phone. Faith walked over, stopped a few feet from her and waited patiently. After several moments the woman sitting on the stool glanced up, obviously surprised to see Faith there.
Her platinum hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she wore glasses that sported a thick black frame. The glasses amplified eyes frosted with bright blue eyeshadow and enough mascara to last a week. Her face was lined around the mouth and eyes, and her lips were a bright, shiny pink. A leopard print shirt was a tad too tight across the breasts and a pink bra poked over the top, while her light blue jean shorts where about an inch less than respectable.
The folks sitting at the table were very interested in Faith, but she ignored them as best she could and smiled at leopard print lady.
“Oh my,” the woman said, getting up quickly, smoothing her top and tucking it into her shorts. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She smiled widely and winked. “But I’m trying to beat my husband at this silly game we play, and I only had five minutes to get my answers in.” As she spoke, her eyes slowly made their way down Faith’s body until they settled back onto her face. There was no judgement. Only curiosity.
“What can I get you?”
Faith did a mental inventory of her financial situation and decided to keep things simple.
“Any specials?”
The woman nodded. “We’ve got a chicken wrap, with roasted potatoes and salad or soup as a side. It’s creamed cauliflower and cheese. Frank made it fresh this morning and I don’t mind saying he’s real good at making soup.”
“How much?” Faith’s stomach rumbled.
“Ten dollars.”
“I’ll take the wrap with soup.” Faith dug through her bag and handed over a bill, then pointed toward the window. “I’m sitting outside.”
“No worries, I’ll bring it out as soon as Frank whips it together.” The woman cranked her head. “That your dog?”
Faith nodded.
“I’ll bring him some water.”
“Thank you,” she murmured and then headed back to her table. Once there she retrieved Taco’s small bowl and added a scoop of dry kibble. While the dog happily inhaled his dinner, she sat with her back to the window and tried to relax.
It was hard to do. She was strung tighter than a snake about to strike.
“Here you are, darlin’.” The woman set down a bowl of water for Taco, and as the dog eagerly lapped it up, she stood and watched. “My name’s Tully.” She offered a smile, then glanced at the sad piece of luggage that contained everything Faith had to her name. “You looking to stay a while?”
Faith sighed and nodded. “My car broke down outside of town, so I guess I’m here for a while.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry. I hate spending money on vehicles. I mean, I’ll spend a fortune at the salon, but new brakes?” She shuddered and shook her head. “No thank you.” She frowned. “Burt Tannis could help you out, he owns the local repair shop though he doesn’t work Sundays or Mondays. He should be back at it by Tuesday.”
“I don’t think it’s worth being fixed, but who knows. At the very least I should get it towed. In the meantime, I need a place to crash, and I chatted with an older gentleman who said you might be able to point me in the right direction. He told me that you have no motels?” She was hoping maybe he was wrong, but when the woman shook her head, Faith fell back in her chair.
“The nearest motel is the next county over, but I wouldn’t let your dog stay there.” Her eyes widened and she whispered. “Bed bugs.”
Faith cringed and made a face.
“There is the Lawson House in town. It’s a big old, beautiful place that’s been converted into apartments and I know for a fact there’s one that’s vacant. Jenny Oakes used to rent it, but she met a man at The Dock and up and left with him just last week. They’re fully furnished so you wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing, and I’m sure Candy would love to have it occupied sooner than later. Gus can take you when you’re done dinner.”
“Gus?”
Tully looked over Faith’s shoulder. “Oh, shoot. Frank’s arms are waving like he’s in the middle of a pack of bees.” She smiled at Faith. “Your dinner must be up. I’ll be right back.”
Taco nudged her hand with his wet nose, and she sank her fingers into the fur behind his ears. Absently she scratched at him, mustering about as much energy as she had. It had been a long day and an even longer week.
When had everything gone so wrong?
Angry at herself, Faith sat up and took a moment to clear her head. “On to better things,” she whispered to herself just as Tully appeared with her order. It smelled heavenly and she blushed when her stomach growled so loud that Tully giggled.
“My, you are in need of sustenance, but no worries you’re in the right place.” She set down the plate and bowl of soup. “Frank might bark like a dog—” she glanced down at Taco, “no offense, but he sure as heck knows his way around a kitchen.” She handed Faith a napkin, salt and pepper, then backed away. “Now you eat and fill that belly right up and I’ll send Gus over in a bit.”
“I’m sure I can find the place myself if you just point me in the right direction.”
“It’s a bit of a hike, darlin’. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” Tully reached for the door. “Though I should warn you Gus is not real sociable and it’s an absolute shame because he’s real nice to look at. Don’t take it personal. He’s like that with most folks. I blame it on the fact he’s a transplant.” At Faith’s confused look she whispered, “He’s from the city. DC I think.” Her smile almost immediately fell. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. City folks are nice and all, I mean . . .” She blushed. “You might be from the city for all I know, and you seem real nice and well, I’m going to stop talking now. Enjoy your dinner.”
Tully disappeared inside, leaving Faith to her dinner. She took her time, savored every last bit of soup and then the wrap, which was so big it could have fed a small army. It didn’t hinder Faith, she ate every last crumb. By the time she was done, her belly was too full, her body was too tired, and she could have closed her eyes and fallen asleep right there.
She might have too, except there was some throat clearing and she slowly turned around in her chair. A man stood a few feet away. The sun was behind him so she couldn’t see his face clearly. Dressed in faded jeans, beat up work boots, and a plain black T-shirt that emphasized wide shoulders and impressive biceps, he was tall and well built.
“I hear you need a ride.” His voice was deep with a hint of rasp, and she detected a slight accent that didn’t jive with this corner of the United States. Boston, she thought.
Faith took a moment and then got to her feet. “Tully says I do, but I can walk as long as I know where I’m headed.”
“I’ll take you.”
He moved a bit, and his face slowly came into focus. Strong square jaw and high cheekbones, a nose that looked as if it had been broken once or twice. His eyes were so dark they appeared black, and his mouth was almost too feminine for such masculine features. Yet it all worked in a way that made him dangerous to any female that crossed his path.
Except me, she thought. I don’t have time for a man like him because she had a feeling this man would be like a hurricane.
“Follow me.”
She wanted to protest. Wanted to be independent and strong. But she was so tired and so low, that when he grabbed up her suitcase, she said nothing.
Faith untied Taco and hiked up her backpack, then followed the stranger to his truck, a mud-splattered F150. He tossed her suitcase in the back seat and didn’t say a word when she settled into the front while Taco jumped into the back seat.
It was a big truck, but he had no problem taking up a lot of space. She inched closer to the door and hoped he didn’t notice. They drove back down Main and eventually took a left onto one of the tree-lined streets Faith had admired less than an hour ago. It was a Cul de sac and he continued to the end, then parked in the driveway of a large brick home. The sign near the driveway said Lawson House , Est 1871.
It was beautiful.
“This is it?” she asked.
A grunt was his reply. He got out of the truck and retrieved her suitcase, then handed it to her. For one second their eyes met and held, and nervous, Faith took a step back. Her heart sped up and her mouth went dry. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Candy’s on the main floor. Unit one.” He gave a curt nod and headed for the house, his long legs making quick business of it. He jogged up the wide steps that led to the nicest porch Faith had ever seen, then disappeared through double stained-glass doors.
Wow, she thought, Tully wasn’t lying. The man was unsociable.
“Okay, Taco,” Faith said reaching for her suitcase. “Looks like we’ll be staying in Fire Lake longer than we want to.”
She followed the stranger’s footsteps, too tired to think about staying in one place longer than she should. Besides, she didn’t have a choice, and it didn’t pay to think too far ahead. At least that’s what her grandmother used to say.
She reached the double doors and glanced down at Taco. His ears were forward and alert, though his tail was still. He felt her tension and unease. Faith bent down and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears, then pushed open the doors. Home sweet home, she thought, running a hand over the clammy skin of her neck.
At least she hoped so.
.