Chapter 4
four
. . .
Nathan
Quiet.
That’s all I want tonight. A fire in the hearth, a stiff drink, maybe a book I’d been meaning to read for weeks. A rare evening without radios, patrols, or Tessa Pope.
Between the week of holiday hustle and bustle that typically follows the tree lighting, and keeping an eye on our resident trouble maker, I’m exhausted.
With the way the snow is falling, chances are good that things will be quiet tonight. If not, I'm confident that my deputy chief, Shane Lockwood, will be able to handle it.
Thank goodness.
I slowly and carefully pass Holly Point Lighthouse, the beacon cutting through heavy snowfall like a sentinel. My cabin, tucked a little off the road just past the famous lighthouse ,promises solitude, and a reprieve from the madness of the holiday season.
The weight of the world, or more like the weight of the town, began to melt away as I navigated my patrol vehicle down my unplowed driveway and put it in park. Good thing the town invested in a SUV with 4-wheel drive for the department.
Shutting off the engine, I sit back in my seat, resting my head back and blow out a long breath. I’m not typically the type for ‘car sitting’ but tonight I feel like I’m mustering up the energy just to open the door and climb out.
The warmth that I know is waiting for me inside my personal sanctuary eventually motivates me enough to face the cold.
Snow crunches under my feet as I make my way up the steps and unlock the front door.
Inside, I go through the familiar routine: boots off, coat hung, firearm secured, duty belt on the rack. The furnace hums as I build a fire and let the flames take hold.
A hot shower washes away the week. I'd done my part to kick off the holiday season without a hitch, and I was feeling it. Worth it? Absolutely. But I'm glad I can finally breathe.
Outside my bedroom window, the snow has thickened, coating everything in white.
I always love the stillness that comes with a snowfall like this one.
Tonight will be peaceful.
Calm.
And all mine.
Hungry and ready for a drink, I make my way back to the kitchen to pour a glass of my favorite Bardstown bourbon and pull a frozen pizza out of the freezer. I’ve just set the oven to 450 degrees and took the first sip when my cell phone starts ringing.
Shane’s name flashes on the screen and I groan. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t something urgent and beyond his control.
“Lockwood,” I answer.
“Chief, I know it’s your night off and I wouldn’t call if…”
“Yeah, I know,” I cut him off. “What is it?”
“I just got a call about a car in a ditch. Dispatch wasn’t able to get a lot of info before the call cut out.
Thankfully, we were able to get a ping on the GPS before we lost signal.
It looks like it happened out by your place.
Right around where the road splits between the lighthouse and Snowberry. Dispatch said it was a female caller.”
“Shit.” I’m already shoving my feet into my boots and stuffing my arms back into my coat. “Alright. Let me see what’s going on. I’ll call you back.”
“I’m really sorry to bother you, but the roads are a wreck and since it’s so close to you…”
“You did the right thing, Shane. I’ll keep you posted.” I hang up and grab a flashlight and my truck keys.
When I open the front door, cold air nearly knocks the breath out of my chest. The temperature has dropped and the snow accumulation looks like it’s easily doubled in the very short time since I got home.
I climb into my personal truck, thankful when it fires right up and I’m able to turn around without a problem. With an emergency kit and tow wench, it’s better than trekking through the snow by foot.
It doesn’t take long at all for me to reach the scene, my headlights catching a dark SUV half buried in snow exactly where Shane said it would be.
The driver’s door is open, and a woman is standing in the road rubbing her arms over her coat, trying to keep warm.
Even before she turns, I know exactly who it is.
Tessa Pope.
Hair pulled back in a messy bun and wearing a parka with some fancy production company logo on it. I’m willing to bet she’s coming straight from Winterberry Farm, where I overheard she was trying to interview the Prices for her documentary.
Determined as ever. Reckless as always.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter as I jump down out of my truck.
She looks up, grinning when she spots me. “Chief Hale! Fancy seeing you here. What are the chances?”
“Pretty damn high, apparently,” I say, trudging closer. “What are you doing out right now?”
“Heading home,” she says, like it’s obvious. “I was at Winterberry Farm when some goats got loose.”
My brows shoot up. This story feels oddly familiar. “Tessa, you didn’t…”
She throws her head back and laughs. Something low in my gut does a stupid summersaut.
“No, I didn’t. I was actually trying to help Jeremy Price and his next door neighbor Harrison Prescott corral the goats back where they belong—after I caught my breath from laughing.
Not going to lie, watching those two bicker while chasing three very pissed off animals was entertaining. ”
I bet it was, I think, though I still don’t trust that she’s not behind the goats being loose in the first place. “So, if I search your car, I won’t find a goat in the trunk?”
Tessa blushes and shakes her head. “No. That was a one-time thing. I learned my lesson.”
“I doubt that.” I shake my head. “And when you realized how bad the snow had gotten, you still thought it’d be smart to drive back through it?”
“I can handle a little snow, Nathan,” she pouts, sticking out her lip.
And for some stupid reason, I almost want to taste that lip. But I’m too frustrated by her carelessness to be blinded by whatever it is that seems to be trying to possess me when it comes to her.
“Not when the roads are iced over and visibility’s shot.” I lecture, nodding toward her SUV. “You’re lucky you didn’t slide into the bay.”
She smirks. “I was doing fine until the turn.”
“That’s what they all say before I’m pulling them out of a ditch.”
Her eyes flash with something between challenge and amusement. “Are you going to write me a ticket?”
“No,” I say, meeting her gaze. “I’m going to make sure you don’t freeze to death. Lock up your car and get in the truck. There’s no getting it out of that ditch tonight. It’ll be sitting there until the snow stops and the roads are clear.”
She hesitates, crossing her arms. “You’re ordering me around now?”
“I’m saving you from your own stubbornness. There’s a difference.”
Tessa sighs dramatically, then grins. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely. I just need to get my camera bag. I can’t let this stuff freeze.” She leans back into her SUV and retrieves a bag and her purse.
I watch as she slides into the passenger seat of my truck and shakes snow from her hair, and then call Shane.
“It was Tessa Pope in the ditch. She’s okay, but her car’s going to need to be pulled out after this storm is over.”
“Yes, Sir. Got it.”
The call disconnects and I climb in my truck. For a second, neither Tessa or I say anything to one another. The storm does all the talking—wind whistling off the water, snow hissing against the glass.
Then Tessa looks at me, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright with mischief. “So, you gonna escort me home like old times, Chief?”
“Not a chance, Pope,” I say, glancing at the road ahead. “Officially off duty. And even if I wasn’t, most of the roads are closed, and the ones that aren’t probably should be. . You’d never make it down Snowberry Lane. You would know that if you had been paying attention to all the alerts.”
She tilts her head, and there’s a teasing spark in her voice when she speaks. “So what—you’re kidnapping me now?”
“Call it protective custody.”
Her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile. “I see the power’s gone to your head.”
“Someone’s got to keep you in line.”
“Good luck with that,” she says, settling back against the seat. “I’ve been causing you trouble since I was in school, remember?”
I groan. “Tessa, how could I forget?”
The prank at the lighthouse. The sparkler incident at the 4th of July parade.
“Does this mean we’re going back to your place?” she asks as I turn my truck without getting stuck, or rolling us into the ditch next to her car.
Thank goodness this thing is made with winter in mind.
“Until the plows catch up, yeah.”
Her brows lift, and she lets out a mock gasp. “Chief Hale, bringing a woman home on the first snowstorm of the season. What will the townspeople say?”
God help me. This woman is going to be the death of me.
“They’ll say you should have listened when Mayor Emerson said the roads were getting bad and issued a travel advisory.”
Ignoring me, she presses a hand to the window, watching the lighthouse fade behind us. “I forgot how beautiful it is out here,” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say, eyes on the driveway that’s completely buried under a blanket of white. “When you’re not stuck in a snowbank.”
As we near my place, I try to look at it from her point of view. Pride swells in my chest. The cabin looks like something out of a postcard—smoke curling from the chimney, windows glowing amber through the storm.
Tessa whistles under her breath. “Well, this is disgustingly charming.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I say, killing the engine and jumping out into the snow.
She flashes me a grin as I open her door, brushing past as snowflakes cling to her lashes.
And just like that, my quiet night is gone—replaced with the wild, unpredictable energy that always seems to follow Tessa Pope wherever she goes.
She beats me to the porch. The wind whips at her scarf until she laughs, breath visible in the dim light spilling from the windows while she waits for me to unlock the door.
I push the door open, heat rolling out to meet us—everything familiar and calm.
Tessa steps inside, stamping snow from her boots and onto my rug.
Her eyes roam the space—fire crackling in the stone hearth, shelves lined with books and old photographs, the heavy wool blanket draped over the back of the leather couch.
“Wow,” she murmurs. “It’s… cozy. In a rugged, mountain-man sort of way.”
“Mountain-man?” I ask as I hang my coat back on the hook.
She glances over her shoulder, smiling. “It’s a good thing.”
“How long were you out there? You’re half-snowman.” Her cheeks are rosy red and I swear if I touch her she’ll shatter like a thin sheet of ice.
She laughs, shaking the melting flakes loose. “You always this charming when rescuing damsels in distress?”
“Only when the damsel ignores road warnings.”
That earns me a grin. “Admit it—you missed having me around to keep you on your toes.”
“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime, Pope.”
“You keep saying that, but your expression says otherwise,” Tessa says, moving closer to the fire to warm up.
She’s baiting me. Just like she used to. But now, it feels different and I’m not sure that I like it.
“I can find some dry clothes for you to change into. Show you where the shower’s at if you want to warm up.”
Tessa looks at me and bites her lip. “You don’t have to play host.”
“Not like I can send you back out there,” I say, nodding toward the front windows. Snow drives sideways against the glass. “You’ll have to stay until morning. Might as well get comfy.”
Her lips twitch. “Guess I’m your problem for the night.”
“That’s one way to put it.” I pick up that glass of bourbon I left behind and down it in one swallow. I’m gonna need it, I’m sure of it. “Better call and let your parents know.”
Tessa pulls her phone out of her pocket and waves it in the air. “Phone’s dead.”
I shake my head. “Shocker. Lucky for you, there’s a phone right there.” I point to the land line hanging on the wall. “And a phone charger on the end table.”
Her eyes widen as she looks at the phone on the wall. “Whoa. I didn’t know they still made those. You might be the only person who has one. I thought they kept those things in museums these days,” she says with a straight face.
She maintains the serious expression for longer than I expected before she falls apart into giggles. “Oh, Hale, if you could see your face right now.”
“Laugh it up, Tessa.” I try not to smirk. “Go on. I bet you don’t even know how to work a real phone. Better yet, I bet you don’t even remember your parent’s number because it’s saved in your silly little smart phone.”
Her jaw drops. “I…I…damnit. I do know how to use that…antique.”
“But you don’t know their number.” With an amused expression of my own, I take my cell phone out of my back pocket and pull up Jack Pope’s name. “Here.” I hold the device out to her. “Call your dad.”
While she checks in with them, I try to remind myself that she’s “Little” Tessa Pope.
A woman twenty years my junior. The kid who was always causing trouble.
Even though the Tessa standing in my living room now is nothing like the rebel teen who I’m pretty sure is solely responsible for most of my gray hair.
This version of Tessa is smart, successful, beautiful. And now the universe has forced us together, in my house that suddenly feels a lot smaller with her standing in the middle of it.