Chapter 2
The frigid air sliced through Sam’s sleeping bag, nipping at her exposed cheeks and nose despite her efforts to burrow deeper.
She curled tighter in the cramped backseat of her old Honda Civic, tucking her frozen fingers between her thighs where some semblance of warmth still lingered.
Outside, darkness was giving way to the gray light of dawn, as tiny snowflakes hit the windows.
Beside her, Bella stirred. The mixed-breed tan, black, and brown dog she’d adopted from a shelter back in Florida wagged her tail as she pressed her warm body against Sam’s side. The dog’s breath formed tiny clouds in the freezing air of the car.
“I know, girl,” Sam whispered, her voice rough with sleep and cold. “Bathroom time.”
Every muscle protested as she wriggled out of the sleeping bag and reached for the puffy coat she’d folded and placed on top of her bag of clothes.
The windows had frosted over completely, sealing them inside a private, frozen world.
Sam wiped a small circle on the rear window with her sleeve, peering out at the deserted parking lot behind the Spilled Milk grocery store.
No one would arrive for at least another hour, plenty of time for her morning routine.
Shivering, she slipped on the UGG boots she’d found at a thrift store in Miami.
Rich people threw out the best stuff. The fleece-lined boots were warm.
She’d gotten the coat, several pairs of sweatpants, warm socks, and sweatshirts as well.
It was like someone had gone on a winter trip and when they’d returned, simply donated everything.
Bella danced impatiently on the passenger seat, her nails clicking against the worn upholstery.
“Okay, okay,” she mumbled, reaching for the leash tucked into the door pocket. “But make it quick. It’s freezing out there.”
The car door opened with a reluctant creak. A blast of cold air rushed in, stealing Sam’s breath as she stepped out into ankle-deep snow. Bella bounded after her, immediately burying her nose in the pristine white, leaving chaotic paw prints in her wake.
Sam’s teeth chattered as she led Bella to a small patch of trees at the edge of the parking lot.
The world was eerily silent, the snow muffling all sounds except the soft crunch beneath her boots.
Main Street lay just beyond the grocery store, still dark and sleeping, though Christmas lights twinkled on lampposts and shop fronts, casting colorful reflections on the snow.
While Bella sniffed around, Sam stomped her feet, trying to generate warmth.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that yesterday’s dinner had been half a peanut butter sandwich and an apple, the last of her meager supplies.
The twenty-three dollars and change in her wallet would have to stretch until she could figure out her next move, but at least she had a full tank of gas, five gallons of water, and a large bag of dog chow for Bella.
Pride won’t keep you warm or fed, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother’s whispered in her mind.
Sam pushed the thought away. She’d been taking care of herself since she was thirteen. She didn’t need anyone’s help or pity now.
Bella finished her business and trotted back, snow clinging to her whiskers.
Sam petted the dog before they hurried back to the car.
“Wait.” Sam opened the back door and grabbed a towel, drying off Bella’s front feet and then her back feet.
The towel went back on the floor. “Okay, up you go.” After Bella was back in the car, Sam sat on the back passenger seat and knocked the snow off her boots.
Back under the blanket, Sam retrieved her water bottle from under the seat and filled Bella’s travel bowl.
The dog lapped at it eagerly while Sam rummaged through her backpack, extracting a floral toiletries bag.
Inside was her toothbrush, a travel-size toothpaste, soap, and a washcloth.
She kept a tote bag with her towel, shampoo, conditioner, and hairbrush so she could grab it when she pulled into a truck stop to shower.
“Glamorous life we’ve got, huh, Bells?” she murmured, squeezing a tiny amount of paste onto the bristles.
Sam used a bit of water to brush her teeth, spitting discreetly into an empty fast-food cup.
She then dampened the washcloth, rubbing it across the sofa, before wiping her face.
Running the cloth under her arms and across the back of her neck, she tried to ignore the hollow ache of hunger and the bone-deep weariness that came from the past few weeks of sleeping in her car.
There was a laundromat on the next street over, and she still had a cupful of quarters, so maybe tomorrow she’d do laundry.
It would be nice and warm in there, and if it wasn’t too busy, she could bring Bell inside as well.
If she got really lucky, they might even have showers.
Some of the laundromats located along the Blue Ridge Parkway had them for hikers and other travelers passing through.
Sam closed her eyes, suddenly transported back to the gleaming white pool house in Florida.
The memory was so vivid she could almost feel the warm tile beneath her bare feet, smell the mixture of chlorine and expensive cleaning products that permeated the Caldwell estate.
Six blissful weeks of steady work. Skimming leaves from the Olympic-sized pool, checking chemical levels, cleaning filters, and a tiny room above the garage where she and Bella could sleep without fear.
Then came that afternoon when Tyler Caldwell had cornered her in the equipment room, his hand sliding up her arm as he blocked the doorway.
“Come on, Samantha,” he’d said, his breath hot against her face, reeking of expensive scotch despite the early hour.
“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed me watching you. Those shorts you wear...”
She’d pushed past him, heart hammering, only to find Mrs. Caldwell waiting for her the next morning, perfectly manicured finger pointing toward the exit.
“You’re fired,” she’d spat. “My son told me everything. The way you’ve been flirting with him, coming on to him.
And now my diamond tennis bracelet is missing. ”
The accusation had hit like a physical blow. Sam had never flirted with Tyler Caldwell, quite the opposite. She’d been avoiding him for weeks, uncomfortable with his lingering looks and “accidental” touches.
“I didn’t take anything,” Sam protested, her voice tight with indignation. “And I never flirted with Tyler. He’s the one who—”
“Enough!” Mrs. Caldwell had snapped. “Get your things and go. You’re lucky I don’t call the police.”
An hour later, Sam had stuffed her few belongings into her car, Bella trembling in the passenger seat, and driven away from the only steady job she’d had in months.
With nowhere else to go, she’d pointed the car north, following a half-remembered story her mother had told her when she was twelve about a mountain town called Blueberry Hill where wild blueberries grew.
Her eyes glazed over, she’d given Sam a postcard, mumbled something about family and passed out.
When her mom woke hours later, she didn’t remember anything about a town in western North Carolina.
Now, three weeks and most of her savings later, here she was—cold, hungry, and running out of options. And there wasn’t a single McKenna that she could find online here in Blueberry Hill or any other nearby town.
Sam finished her makeshift toilette and pulled a clean sweatshirt from her duffel bag.
Changing quickly in the confines of the car, she caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror.
Dark circles shadowed her green eyes, and her long dark hair hung limp around her pale face. She looked as exhausted as she felt.
“Just gotta make it through today,” she told her reflection, tying her hair back with an elastic band. “Figure out the next step.”
The growl of a snowplow in the distance broke the morning silence.
Soon the town would be awake, and she’d need to move her car before someone noticed she’d spent the night here.
Why hadn’t she moved on to another town?
It was a question she’d asked herself every day for the past few days that she’d been here.
She and Bella had taken the scenic route from Florida, avoiding the interstate and taking smaller highways and back roads, watching the landscape change.
Bella curled up on the passenger seat, watching with solemn eyes as Sam started the car, waiting while the ice on the windshield melted.
“Let’s go find some breakfast, Bells,” she said, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Maybe today’s the day our luck changes.”
* * *
Steam fogged the greenhouse windows, creating a tropical oasis amid the winter wonderland outside. Ally wandered between rows of seedlings, the rich scent of damp soil and green life filling her lungs with each breath. Despite the snow outside, inside her greenhouse, spring was already taking root.
The trays of tiny green shoots represented hope and possibility. Lavender, snapdragons, and cosmos that would burst into color months from now. She brushed a delicate stem, leaning down to look at the tiny leaves.
A year ago, she’d been trapped in a cramped apartment in Milwaukee, stuck in a boring corporate job, working for the Dragon Lady boss, and dating a man who’d never planned to leave his wife, despite what he’d promised her.
Now she had three greenhouses, a tiny house nestled at the edge of her mother’s property, and a future spreading before her like these seedlings—full of potential.
“Good morning, little ones,” she murmured, misting the trays with a gentle spray of water. “Big day today. We’re getting company.”