Let There Be Light

by Melissa Storm

  “Nooo.” She laughed, almost losing her hold on the chariot as she did. “Whoah.”

  Her team responded to the unintentional command and began to slow.

  “No, no, I didn’t mean that!” she argued, but Henry was pulling ahead again.

  “Faster, please?” she asked Fred. “Hike like you’ve never hiked before!”

  The dogs complied, and it didn’t take long for her to catch sight of Henry’s team again.

  This was it, the home stretch. Now it was just a matter of—

  Clank.

  Once again, Scarlett nearly fell from the chariot. Only this time, it wasn’t an easy correction to stay onboard. Hazarding a glance behind her, she saw one of her wheels zooming off into the Alaskan wilderness on its own. She quickly jumped over to the side of the chariot that still had its hind wheel in place and tried to balance as best she could.

  The finish line grew visible in the distance. They were so close. She could still finish this thing more or less in one piece.

  Thwack!

  The chariot hit a stray bit of branch that had fallen onto the track. It was enough to toss her from her precarious position and into the mud below.

  She sat there in her own personal puddle, completely shook and watching helplessly as her dogs forged on and finished the race without her.

  Scarlett pressed her hands down into the squishy mud and used them to pry herself back onto shaky feet. The finish line was just there. Her team had already crossed along with what was left of the rig. If she could cross, too, she’d have at least completed what she set out to do—even if she couldn’t win.

  A couple other teams passed her by as she ambled forward like a mud zombie. She was covered in the stuff. Even her white-blonde hair was caked in dark, sticky mud. She used the inside of her T-shirt sleeve to wipe at her eyes and kept moving toward that line and the bystanders who flanked it just beyond.

  As soon as she crossed, she fell back to the earth in a tired heap. Everything hurt, but luckily nothing seemed broken—well, besides the chariot.

  Liz rushed over and helped her back up. “Oh, my gosh, that was so awesome! You should have seen that wipe out. You were like a regular Indiana Jones back there!”

  “I’m glad my pain could amuse you,” Scarlett said with a cough.

  Liz’s face fell. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Relax, I’m just teasing. It was pretty awesome driving that thing home with one wheel. It would have been perfect if I hadn’t taken that spill.”

  “We’re still going out to the Otter’s Drop, right? Everyone says they have the best clam fritters.”

  “Like this?” Scarlett shrieked. When she looked down at herself, she only saw brown.

  “Don’t want to wear your battle wounds with pride, huh?” Liz teased even as she wrinkled her nose at the grotesque sight of Scarlett before her.

  Scarlett felt half-tempted to saddle her with a big, old hug. “Har har. And what about my team?”

  “Shane’s already working on loading them up. He said to tell you something about not expecting you to actually use the ejector seat.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

  Scarlett would have to chide Shane later for that one and for sending her out on that death trap in the first place. You would think a man who almost lost his life on a sledding trip gone wrong would be a little more careful with these things. She took a deep breath. Some of the mud that had already begun to dry on her arms cracked and fell off. “Okay, so that settles the dogs, but I am not going out for a night on the town covered in mud.”

  “Yeah, you do kind of stink, and now you’re shedding. Eek! I guess we could stop by my house to give you a quick shower first. ”

  “You’re such a good friend,” Scarlett teased. “I’ll make sure to leave as much of this as possible behind in your car.”

  Liz’s nose wrinkled again. “That’s just one of the many reasons I have no desire to do this thing for myself. I’ve got some towels in the trunk. Hopefully they’ll be enough. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “But I want to find out who won first,” Scarlett said, looking back toward the crowd whose attention was focused intently elsewhere.

  “I can tell you who won. It was your lover, Henry Mitchell, the turd.”

  “Someone’s been hanging out with Lauren, I see. And a kindergarten class,” Scarlett spat back.

  “Are you really going to make fun of me right now, poopy McGee?”

  Scarlett groaned. “I guess I really don’t have a leg to stand on, but still, it’s good sportsmanship to congratulate the winner before we go.”

  “Are you serious right now? He’s not a good sport, so why should you be? Besides, do you really want to be on camera like that?” Liz looked her up and down as if to remind Scarlett she was dressed in a sheath of mud.

  “Ugh, you’re right. Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Finally!” Liz made to put an arm around Scarlett to help guide her back to the parking lot, but then seemed to think better of it. “Umm, you know the way.”

  As they departed, she looked back toward the crowd where Henry stood proudly on some kind of raised podium giving a victory speech. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone treat any race—let alone such a small one—as an Oscars ceremony.

  His eyes shifted away from his interviewers and toward Scarlett, or at least the mud monster that had taken her place. He nodded subtly, so subtly she couldn’t be sure his face had moved at all.

  Was he trying to tell her something? If so, what?

  “C’mon, look alive!” Liz shouted, and Scarlett realized she’d stopped to stand in place, trapped under Henry’s hot gaze once again.

  With one last glance back his way, she forced her eyes toward the parking lot and toddled after Liz. Henry wasn’t a love interest anymore, nor should he have ever been. He was a rival.

  He was the one to beat if she had any hope of achieving this dream.

  So why didn’t it feel like any of that mattered?

  Scarlett followed Liz into the new Otter’s Drop Bar & Grille shyly. Since her clothes were covered in dried-on mud, she’d needed to borrow an outfit from Liz. She had packed a change of clothes, but Liz didn’t approve of the simple jeans and T-shirt she’d planned for the evening. Instead, Scarlett wore a skirt that showed off her knees and a top that showed off the beginnings of her modestly proportioned cleavage. At least the colors went well with the angry purple bruises that mottled her otherwise fair skin, especially on the side that had taken the brunt of her fall.

  “I feel weird,” she told her friend.

  “But you look great, and that’s what matters.” Liz beamed at her, but Scarlett kept her eyes focused on the giant surge of people ahead.

  “Look at this place, it’s packed,” she said.

  “Well, yeah, it’s a Saturday night! And, hey, I think I see a free table over there.” Liz yanked her arm and led her toward the back of the restaurant to claim the newly freed table before anyone else could beat them to it.

  “That was a lucky break!” She breathed out a giant whoosh of air as she slid into the booth.

  “Don’t say break,” Scarlett said, rubbing her elbow, which still stung from the race.

  “Sorry.” Liz laughed. “But, man, I’ve missed you.”

  Scarlett raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Aren’t your other friends keeping you busy?”

  “They’re not like you, Scarlett. You’re more like a sister than a friend, and I’ve missed you.”

  She groaned. “Stop being so sweet. Go back to making fun of me, please.”

  “I mean it!” Liz insisted. “I can’t wait for you to come back to your old life.”

  Scarlett had avoided thinking about that as much as possible. What happened when the year was over and her leave had ended? Would she go back to her job and forget this whole year ever happened? Or would she choose to pursue racing full-time and give up her work at the library? Neither option seemed right, but she k
new she couldn’t have both together.

  At least she still had plenty of time to figure things out.

  “You look upset.” Liz reached across the table and squeezed Scarlett’s hand. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, it’s not like that. It’s just…”

  Scarlett hadn’t known how she planned to finish that sentence, but luckily she didn’t have to figure it out. A waitress chose that exact moment to come by and deliver a drink to each of them.

  “Ooh, margaritas!” Liz cooed. “My favorite.”

  “From the gentleman in the corner,” the waitress said, and as Liz turned to look, she dropped a small cocktail napkin with a handwritten note into Scarlett’s lap with a conspiratorial glance.

  “It’s just like in the movies!” Liz continued to gush. “We’ve only just got here, and already we have a handsome admirer buying us drinks.”

  Scarlett searched the restaurant for the so-called gentleman in the corner and found him just seconds before Liz.

  Henry Mitchell, III smiled from across the room and gave a tiny wave to acknowledge them.

  “Eew,” Liz said, making a fake gagging sound and pointing her finger down her throat. “He probably poisoned them.”

  “C’mon, don’t be like that! I bet he’s just congratulating us on a good race.”

  “Good for him, I bet. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who messed up your cart thingy.”

  Scarlett knew she had to play this carefully, but she still couldn’t let Liz get away with such a terrible accusation when she knew nothing about the real Henry. She pointed out, “Shane already said it was his fault, so just calm down and drink your margarita.”

  “He’s lucky I happen to love strawberry ‘ritas.” Liz sighed and took a long, slow drink from her glass. “You know, you’re making a lot of excuses for him tonight. You don’t still have feel—”

  “No, of course not! Give it a break!”

  Liz shrugged and slid out from the booth. “Whatever you say, Scar-Scar. I need to run to the bathroom. Hold our table? Looks like some of these vultures are just waiting for us to fly the coop.”

  “I’ll order some loaded potato skins for us to enjoy once you get back from the 1950’s… Oops, I mean the ‘bathroom.’” Scarlett made air quotes, and Liz play-hit her with her purse before snaking her way through the crowd in search of the restroom.

  The moment Liz disappeared behind the bathroom door, Scarlett smoothed the napkin out on the table. Text me, it said, and then gave a local number scrawled in a quick hand.

  She glanced toward Henry who still stood by himself in the corner. When he caught her eye, he lifted a finger to his lips and mouthed, “Shh.”

  She punched the number into her phone and named the new contact Lauren, just in case Liz happened to oversee. Then she sent her first message to Henry: Thank you for the drinks.

  His reply came quickly. You’re welcome. You look great, by the way.

  She flushed at the compliment. Had Henry seen her walk in? Had he seen all the extra skin on display? She felt equal parts embarrassed and delighted by his response.

  Her phone buzzed again.

  I know your friend will flip if I come talk to you. So can we text?

  Okay.

  “I’m back!” Liz announced, sliding into the booth across from Scarlett. “What’d I miss?”

  Scarlett slipped the phone into her lap and smiled up innocently at Liz. “Not much. The waitress hasn’t been back yet.”

  “Doesn’t she know I can’t hold my liquor without some food to sop it up?” She laughed and licked some salt from the rim of her glass.

  Scarlett took a small sip, too. “No, but I’ll make sure to tell her when she comes back.”

  Her phone buzzed again, and she smiled when she glanced at the new text from Henry. You were like a superstar out there today. You would have won if your sled hadn’t fallen apart.

  Thanks, she typed, as Liz went on about this uptight woman her father had recently started dating.

  It was nice to see you again, she added to her conversation with Henry.

  I wish I could talk to you again. Not like this, but for real. I can’t stop thinking about you. The dance. The sled ride. The way your body felt tucked into mine.

  The temperature in the room rose a million degrees, and Scarlett knew she’d turned firetruck red upon reading that last comment.

  It didn’t escape Liz’s notice either. “Who are you texting with?” she asked, trying to get a glimpse of the small phone screen clutched to Scarlett’s chest.

  “Just an old work friend,” she answered, because that was kind of true.

  Liz smiled sadly. “Do you miss it? The library?”

  “Sort of, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had much time. As you already know.”

  “Oh, yeah, totally, but we should still stop in tomorrow before you leave back for Puffin Ridge. Want to?” she said after taking another huge gulp of her drink, which was almost halfway finished now.

  “Yeah,” Scarlett said as she tried to think of what she could write back. Finally, she settled on I think about those times, too.

  When this is all over and the media has moved on, let me take you out on a proper date.

  How do I even know you’ll still want to after all that time?

  I’ll always want you, Scarlett. Nothing is going to change that.

  “What’s your friend saying?” Liz asked, and Scarlett realized how rude she was being. This night was supposed to be about them, not some secret text conversation. She wished she could confide in her about her secret flirtations, but no. Liz had made her feelings on Henry Mitchell, III abundantly clear when her father had agreed to start training him—and, boy, had she given Scarlett an earful then.

  “She says she misses me,” Scarlett answered, only massaging the truth slightly.

  “Well, I miss you, too. Put the phone down and be with me. Tell me what it felt like when the wheel snapped out from under you. Were you scared?”

  With a tinge of regret, Scarlett locked her phone and put it into her purse, then she told Liz all about the rush of exhilaration she’d had as she rode the three-wheeled chariot toward the finish line.

  Other than the few times she’d spent with Henry, it was the most exciting sixty seconds of her life.

  The next morning, Scarlett awoke with a pounding headache. Even though she’d only had one margarita, the alcohol’s effect had made her giddy all night, and now she had a serious case of the morning-afters. Liz, on the other hand, had ordered a second and a third, and still seemed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when she awoke that day.

  “Ugh, remind me to never drink again,” Scarlett moaned as she noshed on a banana.

  “What are you talking about? Last night was so much fun!” Liz slurped at an oversized mug of coffee, despite being a morning person without any extra caffeine to help her along.

  “Yeah, it was pretty fun,” Scarlett admitted and thought back to her secret texts with Henry.

  “Do you really have to go so soon?” Liz asked with a sad look on her face.

  “Yeah, but I promise it won’t take me so long to come back for a visit this time.”

  “And I’ll hold you to it, Missy. Now get gone before I change my mind and decide to hold you prisoner in my basement. Or, as your people say, hike!”

  “Wow, so many things wrong with that statement. I think that’s my cue to go.” Scarlett gave her friend a quick hug goodbye, then started on the road that would deliver her back to Puffin Ridge.

  She hadn’t driven far when she remembered her plan to check in at the library while she was in town. As silly as it was, a part of her even missed the stodgy Mrs. Caputo. Plus, she was looking forward to meeting the new girl she’d be supervising when she returned to the stacks next year.

  Stopping at a coffee shack on her way over, she ordered a small latte. But when her headache pulsed again, she asked for a large instead. Maybe caffeine and a few quick chapters
of an exciting new book in a familiar, old place would be just the cure she needed for her mini hangover. After all, she had a long drive ahead of her.

  At the library, the front desk appeared to be empty despite the growing number of patrons milling about the entryway. One of the regulars who liked to come by a few times per week saw Scarlett and waved.

  “Hey, JoAnn!” Scarlett rushed over to give this familiar face a huge, happy grin. “It’s been a good few weeks since I’ve seen you. How have you been?”

  “Oh, my life is always the same,” the older woman said with a massive smile of her own. “I’ve started a new Cozy series and have wished you were here to talk about it with. That other woman just isn’t as friendly, is she?”

  Scarlett laughed. “Mrs. Caputo? Maybe not, but don’t tell her I agreed with you!”

  JoAnn bobbed her head as she talked. “I’ve seen you on the news a couple times. It looks like the sledding adventure is going well.”

  “Oh, yes! I’m having such a great time.”

  She dropped her voice to a lower register now. “I’ll admit, I was startled when I’d heard you quit. I thought you loved your job at the library, but now I can see that the change has suited you well.”

  Okay, that was surprising. JoAnn always had her nose where ever there was news to be sniffed out. How could she have gotten things so wrong about Scarlett’s sabbatical?

  “Quit? Who told you I quit?” Scarlett shook her head and offered a placating smile, but JoAnn’s scowl only deepened.

  “That same terse old woman. Mrs. Caputo, did you say?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you just misunderstood. No, I’m on an extended leave. I’ll be back in April.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but worry niggled at her. JoAnn loved reading mysteries for a reason. She loved chasing down a good story and figuring out the who, what, and why. Could she have really misunderstood so completely—or was it Scarlett who had misunderstood?

  JoAnn’s brow furrowed as she switched from her usual head bob to a slow shake. “No, you definitely quit,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word. “At least that’s what I was told.”