by Kait Nolan
“It’s just, you seem less than thrilled about it.”
Two spots of color bloomed in her cheeks. “It’s not that. I love my mom. It’s just a long time to be away from my life in Austin.”
“And does that life include a significant other?” He hadn’t seen her post anything about a guy on social media, but she didn’t post about a lot of things.
Lexi snorted and sounded more like herself. “Like I have time for a boyfriend while I’m getting my business off the ground.”
Zach felt an absurd sense of relief at the news. Why should it matter if she had a boyfriend or not? It wasn’t like a guy would take her away from him. Life had done that already. And things had never been anything more than platonic between them.
“So it’s work you’re missing?” This was probably safer territory. They’d always been able to connect over photography.
“Well, it’s hard to book jobs not knowing exactly when she’ll be healed enough for me to get back.”
He’d been lucky in his business. Byron Bridges had retired the year Zach graduated from college. Coming home to take over his studio had been a no-brainer. There’d been a built-in client-base, and as the only professional photographer in town, he tended to stay busy year-round. So busy, he didn’t have time to pursue his other interests. But maybe, since Fate had sent Lexi back his way, he’d get a little reprieve. And maybe he could help her out along the way.
“Work with me while you’re here.” The words were out before he could think them through, but he wouldn’t have taken them back. He missed working shoulder-to-shoulder with her in a dark room or on digital proofs. No one understood the lure of being behind the camera the way she did.
Those melted chocolate eyes blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Since Byron retired, I’m the only gig in town, so I’ve got more business than I can handle. There’s a waiting list, and there have been some jobs I’ve had to turn down because of time constraints. I know it’s not growing your client list for Austin, but it’d surely keep some income flowing while you’re here.”
Why did she look so stunned at the offer? They were friends. Or damn it, they used to be. He wanted that back. Spending actual time together would give him the chance to reestablish their friendship in a way he couldn’t online. He’d known he’d missed her, but he hadn’t realized how much until he’d seen her again. He needed her to say yes to this.
“Your clients want to book you. Your skills. Your style.”
“They want good pictures,” he corrected. “Most aren’t that fussy about who takes them, and you’re every bit as good as I am. It’d be great to have someone to refer them to that isn’t an hour or more away. You brought your gear, didn’t you?”
The look of vague insult almost made him smile. “Of course I did.”
“Then it’s a win-win for us both.” Please, say yes.
She fidgeted, and he was sure she was trying to come up with some excuse. “Well, if you truly don’t mind and don’t think they’d mind, I’d certainly appreciate some referrals.”
Zach held in his whoop of relief. “Of course I don’t mind. What are friends for? I’d love to get to really catch up while you’re here. It’s been ages.”
Again that…something flashed across her face, but she stepped up to the counter to place her order. By the time she’d finished chatting easily with the barista and paid, he’d already mentally rearranged things in his studio to accommodate another photographer and started a list of ways to remind her of all the reasons they’d been friends in the first place.
Grabbing the paper bag and tray of coffees, she turned toward him, smiling again. “I’d love to catch up while I’m here. But later. I promised Mom brownies and a mocha, and I already ran into Mrs. Landon on the green, so I’ve taken longer than I meant to.”
Squashing the disappointment that they couldn’t start that catching up now, he pasted on his own smile. “Of course. Give your mom my best. And come on by the studio tomorrow. I’ll give you the grand tour. It’ll be nice to share it.”
“Looking forward to it.” She lifted the bag in a sort of wave and headed out the door.
As he watched her go, Zach couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was running. With luck, he’d eventually suss out why.
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Sneak Peek Once Upon A Rescue
As director of the local animal shelter, Brooke Redding is used to being the one doing the rescuing. But when a freak winter storm endangers her animals with sub-freezing temperatures and enough snow to constitute a Mississippi blizzard, she’s in the market for a miracle.
* * *
Hayden Garrow wants nothing more than to be her hero. With four-wheel drive, an empty barn, and a crush on Brooke that goes back to junior high, he’s got a plan to save all her furry charges. They’ve just got to survive icy roads, canine labor, and a pair of matchmaking octogenarians to get there.
* * *
What’s the worst that could happen in this snowbound Southern romance?
“I heard we could get up to three inches!”
“I know! I had Rick go pick up the kids from school, since they closed at eleven. I don’t know why they didn’t just call things off this morning and save everybody the trouble of a midday pickup.”
Brooke Redding listened to the exchange in the middle of the aisle of McSweeney’s Market and tried not to roll her eyes as she waited for the two women to recognize someone was trying to get by. Neither of them looked her way, apparently not realizing other people had things to do in the face of the oncoming winter storm.
“Well you know the superintendent caught all that flack for using up those snow days last year when the predictions came to nothing. They had to add days to the school calendar to make up all those standardized tests.”
All around them, patrons hustled at an uncharacteristic speed, trying to beat their neighbors to the last of the toilet paper, bread, and milk in the store. Shelves were decimated, and lines snaked back from the checkouts like Black Friday at a Walmart. Everybody else was too busy stocking up on supplies to talk, as if Wishful were about to face the zombie apocalypse instead of a prospective few inches of snow.
Southerners were not known for calm in the face of anything resembling true winter weather. They simply didn’t get snow in Mississippi. Snow days were a rarity and more often got used for ice storms. The first time Brooke had ever used the sled her grandparents bought on her seventh birthday was when she’d been sixteen. She and some friends had taken it down the big hill behind the fire station, when the road had been coated in a sheet of ice and the trees had clinked together like blown glass sculptures. Turned out sledding wasn’t near as much fun on ice as it had been in the snow on her grandparents’ farm in West Virginia. She’d ended up with a broken wrist for her troubles.
As she didn’t want a repeat performance when the roads froze later today, Brooke cleared her throat and tried for a polite smile. “Ladies, could I get by you, please?”
“Oh! Sorry.” The one with the kids shot her a look of apology before beginning to push her buggy again…at the pace of an arthritic tortoise. “—Chloe started third grade this year, and I just can’t believe how much homework they’re sending home! And how are we expected to be able to teach our kids the stuff they clearly aren’t getting to during the school day when they’ve gone and changed to some off-the-wall, non-standard form of math? What the heck is wrong with normal long-division, I’d like to know?”
Brooke’s patience snapped. “Ma’am, this is neither the time or place to discuss theories of pedagogy. There is a winter storm bearing down on this town, and approximately ninety-nine point nine percent of the population has no idea how to drive under such conditions. Some of us would like to get home and off the roads before people start sliding.”
As Chloe’s mother stared in open-mouthed shock, her companion finally moved her buggy back and aside enough that Brooke could get by.
“Thank you.” Brooke slid through, reaching across Chloe’s mom’s buggy for the packet of chili seasoning she needed before heading for the nearest checkout.
She wanted home and fuzzy slippers and the world’s biggest vat of three meat chili. But she wasn’t about to get it. As soon as she got out of here, she’d be headed straight for the shelter to see how Shelli Goff, her part-time assistant, was getting on with the evacuation. It wasn’t the impending snow that had Brooke worried. It was the coinciding dip in temperatures. Forecasts were predicting lows in the upper teens for the next couple of days. Absolutely unheard of for Mississippi. The open-air kennels that made up the majority of the Wishful Animal Rescue were fine three hundred sixty days a year. But every once in a while, they had freakishly cold weather and no amount of tarps and heaters could keep the animals warm enough. That meant finding temporary foster homes for all of them until temperatures rose. If luck held, some of those temporary fosters would turn permanent placements when the hosts fell in love with their charges.
As she waited for the line to move forward, Brooke sent a text to Shelli. How goes the search for fosters?
Two more people had been checked out before the answer came back.
Shelli: Not great. Nobody wants to get out in the mess.
Brooke: It’s already started?
Shelli: Haven’t you looked outside?
Brooke: I’m still stuck in line at McSweeney’s.
Craning her head, she tried to see past the crowd to the front windows overlooking the parking lot. Even from here, she could see the spitting sleet.
Shit.
It took another fifteen minutes to get through the line. As soon as she stepped outside, she flinched at the bite of ice hitting her skin. Of course they’d start with sleet instead of snow. God forbid they get the fun stuff that merited an excuse to play, then come in and eat good, hearty stews and cuddle—or other things—with a naked companion. Not that she had a companion for such activities. She’d been on a man diet for longer than she cared to admit. Didn’t matter. She had way more important things to worry about than her total lack of love life. She needed a miracle to save all her animals.
Hunching into her coat, she trudged through the parking lot and headed across the street. Knowing McSweeney’s would be a madhouse, she’d parked a couple blocks away in the nearly deserted downtown. The sleet got heavier as she walked, mixing with the first signs of actual snow. It stung her cheeks, clinging to her knit hat. Her hands ached with cold, and she wished she’d remembered to shove her gloves into her coat pocket this morning. Brooke was wet and half frozen by the time her little compact car came into view. Ice was already beginning to accumulate on the town green. She hustled across it, as fast as she dared, skirting by the fountain that was the town’s namesake. And then she paused and went back a few paces.
This was Wishful. The town where hope sprang eternal. It was in all the brochures and on all the banners marching down Main Street. Brooke didn’t know if she believed all the hype that wishes made in the fountain—fed from nearby Hope Springs—would come true. But she figured she could use all the help she could get to keep her animals safe and in good health.
Shifting all the bags to one hand, she grabbed one of the coins she’d received as change at the market and fisted it in her freezing hand.
Please send me a miracle to save all the animals at the rescue.
It dropped with a musical plink into the basin.
Then, as if she’d angered the gods, the sleet seemed to double.
Great.
Shrugging off the idea of divine intervention, Brooke headed to her car and prepared herself for a long night of hard work.
“It’s gonna be a Mississippi blizzard.” Chester Harkin made this pronouncement with all the accumulated wisdom of his eighty-odd years.
From his position behind the register, Hayden Garrow scanned the crowded aisles of the Wishful Feed and Farm Supply. “Everybody else certainly seems to think so. We just sold out of the last of our generators, and I think we’re down to two space heaters.” That didn’t even touch on the run they’d had on kerosene and propane since that morning. He was grateful he’d bought up one of the generators first thing and stowed it in his truck, along with a couple tanks of propane. He didn’t really expect things to get that bad out at the farm, but if it did, he’d be ready.
At the other register, his boss, Abe Costello, just shook his grizzled head. “Everybody’s running around, actin’ a fool. They’re either convinced it’s gonna be the apocalypse or driving as if there’s nothing at all different from a normal day.”
“Well, is anything actually gonna happen?” Hayden asked.
“We’re due up for a good snow or ice storm,” Chester insisted. “It’s been…what? Ten, twelve years since the last one? We usually get about one decent one a decade.”
“Do you really think this one’s gonna turn into something?” Hayden asked. “I mean, how many times over the past five years have they called for snow and we didn’t get more than flurries?”
The door opened at the tail end of this, and Corbett Raines, the rookie officer of the Wishful Police Department, stepped inside. “It’s definitely more than flurries. The weather’s getting filthy. The rain’s already turned to sleet, mixed with snow. Temps are dropping and the roads are starting to freeze. I’ve dealt with three accidents since this morning, from people driving like idiots.”
“See?” Abe said. “Actin’ a fool. They don’t know how to drive in this kind of weather and don’t have the good sense not to try.”
Brody Jensen, a local contractor, set his purchases on the counter. “There was a guy on a job I worked a few years ago who gave the best advice I ever heard for people who have no experience driving on snow and ice. He said to imagine your grandmama sitting in the backseat, wearing a new Sunday dress, with a crockpot full of gravy on her lap, a tray full of fresh biscuits on the seat, and open jars of sweet tea on the floorboard. Everything has to get to church unscathed.”
Hayden laughed and began ringing him up.
Chester considered. “You know, that’s not half bad advice, actually.”
“I still say people need to get on home and stay there,” Abe insisted.
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Corbett said. “Chief’s got all hands on deck while the worst of this rolls through.”
“I expect they’ll have all first responders on call.” A volunteer fire fighter himself, Hayden was ready and waiting in case he got called out. At just under six thousand people, Wishful didn’t have a full-time fire department—something they were hoping to change in the coming year.
Chester readjusted his stance, leaning against the counter. “Can’t say I’m sorry not to be worrying over animals this go round. There’s a lot I miss about having the farm, but stressing out over circumstances like this isn’t part of it.”
Abe shifted his attention to Hayden. “Speaking of animals, if you’re gonna take that dog food delivery to the shelter, you’d best do it, or it might be a few days before the roads are clear enough to get there. This cold’s coming in and sticking.” He jerked his head toward the stock room in back.
“You sure you’ve got things covered here?” Hayden asked.
“The crazy’s slowing down. And either way, we’ll be out of cold-weather supplies in an hour, if not before.”
“All right then. In that case, I’ll load up and clock out.”
“Take some care, will you? I noticed there were more damaged bags in this shipment than usual.” Abe shot him a bland look, and Hayden realized he knew.
The farm supply had a standing arrangement with the Wishful Animal Rescue. Rather than taping up and selling off torn open bags of dog and cat food, they donated them. As the number of animals at the shelter had been higher than usual lately and donations from the rest of town had been down, Hayden had been rather rougher than necessary when handling the latest shipment to make sure there was sufficient food to go
around.
Feigning innocence, Hayden shrugged. “Oops.”
Abe just rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Brooke will appreciate your sacrifice.”
Okay, yeah. It wasn’t just about the animals, but about their stalwart champion with the pretty green eyes. Brooke Redding was passionate, big-hearted, and completely oblivious to Hayden’s interest, same as she’d been back in junior high school. He wasn’t even sure she realized they’d gone to junior high together. He’d been bone skinny and short back then, and his family had moved away before he got up the nerve to really talk to her. Well, he might be taller and broader these days, but some things hadn’t really changed.
Saluting his boss, Hayden headed into the stock room and slipped into his winter gear, such as it was. The thermal vest and scarf didn’t do much to slow down the wind and sleet slapping him in the face as soon as he opened the back door. Damn. It really was worse than he’d realized. He made quick work of backing the truck into the loading dock, then piling the bags of food into the bed, alongside the generator and propane he’d grabbed that morning. Covering the lot of it with a tarp and securing it as best he could, he climbed into the driver’s seat and headed out into the storm.
Get your copy of Once Upon A Rescue today!
Other Books By Kait Nolan
A complete and up-to-date list of all my books can be found at https://kaitnolan.com.
The Misfit Inn Series
When You Got A Good Thing (Kennedy and Xander)
Once Upon A Wedding (Misty and Denver)
Those Sweet Words (Pru and Flynn)
Stay A Little Longer (Athena and Logan)
Rescue My Heart Series
Baby It’s Cold Outside (Ivy and Harrison)
