Out of the Storm Page 5

  Was that the woodworker’s name? “Jon?” she repeated. Not Daniel. Not her Danny. She felt her cheeks heat. Just as she’d feared, everyone in town knew.

  “Jon Harper,” Bessie said. “I believe you met him yesterday. He runs a woodworking shop out of the old Aldrich carriage house. Talented man. I sell what he makes at my bakery during the summer months. That’s when we get the most tourists through town.”

  Kate couldn’t imagine enough people came through and bought his handmade wood products to keep the man fed.

  “He likes to work in his shop, keep to himself.” Bessie shrugged. “People in Buckhorn respect each other’s...quirks.”

  She knew what the woman was trying to tell her. Just as she couldn’t help asking, “Has he been here long?”

  Bessie hesitated. “Showed up in summer about five years ago. His truck broke down. Like you, he was waiting for a part to come in. By the time it did, he had rented Mabel Aldrich’s guest cabin. Mabel’s husband, Frank, was a woodworker and had all the tools. Frank had died that spring, so she told Jon he could use them and the carriage house.” She finished as if that was either all she knew about Jon—or all she figured Kate needed to know.

  She thought of the man she’d seen in that workshop and felt a chill curl around her neck even though the café was almost too warm inside.

  The waitress brought Kate’s breakfast and refilled her coffee without a word, before hurrying back to the kitchen.

  Bessie hesitated, as if expecting Kate would have more questions. After a moment, she rose. “It was nice to meet you, Kate. I have some cinnamon rolls in the oven. Don’t leave without picking up a couple for you and your fiancé. I would imagine your car part will be in at any time. I heard Fred’s been calling around trying to pick up a used part to get you on your way. Headed any place special?”

  Kate had no idea. “Just wanted to see Montana in the winter.”

  Bessie laughed. “Well, that’s a new one. Most people come in the summer.” That blue gaze held hers for a moment. “You stay warm, and don’t forget your cinnamon rolls. With luck, you’ll be on the road by this afternoon.”

  Kate watched the woman walk away, feeling as if she’d been told to leave town. She’d definitely been told to leave Jon Harper alone.

  * * *

  THE WHOLE PLACE smelled like grease and oil and sweat as Collin walked into the garage of the old gas station. His rental SUV was in the first bay. Fred was working on a pickup on the hydraulic lift in the second bay. The clank of a wrench against metal could be heard over the drone of the newsman on the radio.

  Another storm right behind this one? Is that what the man had said? Collin groaned irritably. His claustrophobia was getting worse. The sooner they got out of this town, the better. Although he had to wonder how many more dead husbands Kate might see along the way. He didn’t know what to think about this latest development. But at least she’d come to her senses and realized her mistake.

  He’d walked by the old carriage house in the back of the short alley. He’d been tempted to check out the woodworker for himself. But she’d said it wasn’t him. So, Collin saw no reason to wade through the alley’s snow. But he couldn’t help being curious. This morning while Kate was in the bathroom, he’d gone down to the motel office and quizzed Shirley. Shirley was easy on the eyes, and she seemed bored and glad for the company.

  “Jon Harper? He’s a strange one,” she’d told him. “No one knows his story. He seldom comes out of that shop of his. Bessie and Earl Ray are the only two people in town that he’s said more than a couple of words to.”

  “Earl Ray?” Collin had asked.

  “He’s our local war hero. Late sixties, gray hair, military buzz cut. You’ll see him around if you’re here long. He hangs out at Bessie’s most days. The town gossip is that Jon either killed someone or got his heart broken, and he’s hiding out here.” She’d shrugged. “I think he’s just a loner.”

  Collin had asked the café owner as well while Kate was in the ladies’ room. He got pretty much the same thing from her. Not much. That’s why he was still curious. Just not curious enough to visit the hermit in his workshop. He did wonder, though, what Kate had seen in the man that made her think even for a second that Jon Harper was her dead husband.

  “Hello there.” Fred came out from under the pickup wiping his greasy hands on a filthy rag. “I think I found that part you need. With luck it will be here tomorrow.”

  “Can’t get it here any sooner?” Collin asked, cursing silently to himself.

  “Not with this storm. The part’s coming up from Wyoming, where the roads are said to be even worse. Word is that even the interstate is closed to all but emergency traffic.”

  This was an emergency, but Collin couldn’t bring himself to tell the man that since it wouldn’t do any good, anyway. “Tomorrow, huh? Okay, I guess I can live with that if you can fix it right away, so we can leave tomorrow afternoon. Is that possible?”

  “Soon as I get that part, I’m on it.” Fred gave him a toothy smile and ducked back under the pickup as a young man in his twenties came roaring up on a snowmobile, snagging Fred’s attention. “My son, Tyrell,” the mechanic said under his breath before looking at the clock on the wall. “You’re late,” he called to his son who came slouching in. Tyrell wore jeans, biker boots and a large army coat that had seen better days. His expression was one of defiance as he went into the office.

  Collin could see him pouring himself a cup of coffee, his back to them.

  Fred made a disgruntled sound before he headed into the office. Collin could hear the two of them arguing as he left.

  “Where have you been?” Fred was asking. “You’d better not be sniffing around that woman again.”

  He couldn’t hear the son’s answer. Whatever it was, it hadn’t pleased Fred.

  As Collin stepped out into the snowstorm, the argument faded behind him. The storm had worsened. He could hardly see the buildings across the highway. He tucked his chin into his coat and tipped his head down and walked into the wind and blowing snow. What a miserable friggin’ place, he thought. He couldn’t wait until he had Buckhorn in his rearview mirror—and Jon Harper with it.

  The thought of going back to that motel room threatened to bring on an anxiety attack. Even outside in the storm he felt closed in, trapped. That’s when he spotted a bar sign on the edge of town that he’d somehow missed before.

  * * *

  IT HAD STARTED to snow harder as Kate finished pretending that she was eating her breakfast. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the motel. She hadn’t seen Collin, so she assumed he was still dealing with the mechanic at the garage. If he’d gone back to the motel, he’d either be on his phone or flipping the channels impatiently on the television. The program selection was limited. She suspected that nothing could hold his interest.

  Kate left the café, ducking her head to the snow and frosty breeze as she made her way down to the store. She’d always been able to lose herself in a good book. The selection wasn’t much, but she picked up several, thinking one of them might keep her mind off everything.

  Earlier this morning, Collin had mentioned that a couple of his associates were skiing in Canada and might meet up with them if the part came in soon. “You wouldn’t mind, would you? We might have to cross the border. You brought your passport, right?”

  She’d nodded. She’d never been to Canada but doubted it was much different from Montana right now. According to what she’d heard about this latest storm, it covered a wide area.

  After buying the books, she had little choice but to head back to the motel room. The aroma of the two warm cinnamon rolls rose from her purse where they lay wrapped in foil, compliments of Bessie. Kate knew Collin would love them. Maybe she’d eat a little of one since she’d barely touched her breakfast.

  Today, she stayed on the opposite side of the highw
ay from Jon Harper’s woodshop as she walked back. Not that she wasn’t aware of the sound of a saw coming from the old carriage house. Today, he had the garage door closed, but she could see a sliver of light stealing from the crack between the two doors.

  She thought about what Bessie had told her about Jon. He’d shown up five years ago. What had she been doing five years ago? She had to think for a moment. She felt her pulse jump as she recalled Mia’s graduation from college in late spring. How she’d wished that Danny had been there to see his oldest receive her college diploma. He would have been as proud of his daughter as she’d been.

  For some time after the explosion took Danny from her, it had almost been like a game, wondering where he would have gone if he’d been hurt and suffering from a form of amnesia. What would he have done?

  He’d always been good with his hands. He could fix anything. Make anything. She’d known that he’d have found a job and wouldn’t have gone hungry. That’s why she’d thought that was him in Nebraska working on a farm.

  Being reminded of the mistakes she’d made over the years made her forget to watch her step. She slipped on the ice under the snow and almost fell. As she righted herself, she looked across the highway at the sliver of golden light that shone from the crack between the double carriage-house doors. She had heard the whine of a saw earlier. Now there was nothing but a cold silence. Maybe he wasn’t even over there, and even if he was...

  She stood in the falling snow, the wind whipping flakes around her, wondering. The more she’d tried not to think about him, the more she had. Jon Harper wasn’t Danny. But it nagged at her. She couldn’t understand why she’d been so sure that first instant she’d seen him standing in his shop.

  The other times she’d thought she’d seen Danny, her heart had threatened to explode from her chest, she’d had trouble breathing, she’d felt the blood rush from her head even, but she’d never fainted. So, why this time? What had it been about this man? Something about his silhouette? Or had it only been the way he was standing?

  It left doubt in her mind. She’d been in such a hurry to get out of that room with him, as if she’d been running scared. Not embarrassed. That was later. No, this was a different form of terror that had her racing from that woodshop and out into the storm.

  Kate knew she’d have to go back. She’d have to see him again. She couldn’t leave this town unless she was certain, otherwise there would always be that nagging doubt at the back of her mind.

  The thought of seeing him again after yesterday and making a fool of herself made her a little sick to her stomach. Jon Harper. A snowplow went flying past in a roar on the highway, kicking up a cloud of snow. She waited until the cloud drifted away before she crossed the paved two-lane.

  Her throat went dry as she neared the woodshop. She’d been so sure it was him until she’d heard the rasp of his voice. Not Danny’s voice. Of that she was certain. But what bothered her was that even when he’d been hovering over her, she couldn’t remember if she’d seen the color of his eyes. Danny’s were brown, a warm, soft sable with dark lashes. His hair had been brown, too. Brown eyes and brown hair. Could either be more common?

  There was one true belief that she’d held in both her head and her heart all these years. If she ever got to look into Danny’s eyes again, she would know him without a doubt—no matter how much he had changed.

  As she paused at the opening into the alley, she saw a new set of tracks. Someone else had been here. Her tracks were nearly indistinguishable from yesterday. These tracks appeared larger. The older man she’d seen yesterday? She remembered seeing him come out again before she’d finished breakfast. It had been the same man she’d seen before. She’d recognized his lumbering gait and his buffalo-plaid coat.

  With her tracks from yesterday nearly gone with the storm, it was as if she’d never walked down this alley. Never seen that man. Never thought he was her long-lost dead husband.

  Even the older man’s tracks were now sunken shadows in the deepening snow. In a few more hours, the falling snow would erase all trace of both of their tracks. She took a step into the alley, even though the snow now came over the top of her boots.

  “Kate?”

  The sound of Collin’s voice made her flinch. She turned, startled to see him coming toward her through the drifts that had formed on the sidewalk. He looked upset, as if he’d seen where she’d been headed. Just a few more minutes and she would have been pulling open one of the carriage house’s double doors and stepping inside.

  “Are you headed back to the motel?” Collin asked, clearly pretending he hadn’t known what she was about to do. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to make an issue of it.

  “I bought some books at the store to read,” she said, also pretending that she’d only stopped here to catch her breath. She hugged herself against the cold and driving snow, disappointed and yet thinking that he’d probably just saved her from further embarrassment. “What did you hear on the car?” she asked as she joined him.

  “Fred’s hoping the used part comes in tomorrow. He thinks he can get the engine fixed and we can leave by afternoon,” he said as they headed in the direction of the motel.

  It took all of Kate’s strength not to look back at the carriage-house doors and that slice of light bleeding out. She’d thought she’d heard the creak of one of the doors opening down the alley. Was Jon Harper standing in the doorway watching them leave? If she turned, would she see his face, and would that be the end of it? Or just the beginning?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “YOU WEREN’T THINKING of going back to see that carpenter, were you?” Collin asked after they’d finished the cinnamon rolls. He’d wordlessly eaten most of the two. She’d had only a little of one before handing it over for him to finish. As good as they had smelled, she wasn’t hungry, even though she’d barely eaten her breakfast.

  She met his gaze as she wadded up the foil the rolls had been wrapped in and tossed them into the trash. “I have to set my mind at ease. Once I see him again—”

  Collin swore and shot to his feet. “Kate, why put yourself through that? Look, you made a mistake. For a moment, something about him reminded you of your dead husband.” He was pacing the small motel room now. “You’re a rational woman. What would he be doing in Buckhorn, Montana, even if he was alive?”

  Working with his hands—just as her father had done. But she said nothing, letting Collin pace and talk.

  “Not to mention, what a coincidence it would be that we get stranded here and, lo and behold, there’s your thought-to-be-dead husband.”

  Kate heard the truth in what he was saying. Jon Harper wasn’t Danny. Yet she found herself silently arguing, why not? Why couldn’t a man with no memory of the past end up here? Buckhorn was the kind of place a loner might fit right in. Bessie had said that his vehicle had broken down—just as theirs had. Why couldn’t this man who was good with his hands find a way to survive here?

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, but there was something about him that made me think he was Danny. I need to know what it was. I have to be sure it’s not him.”

  “Then I’ll go with you,” Collin said, grabbing his coat from where he’d dropped it and shrugging it on. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” She didn’t move except to shake her head. He stopped to look at her. “Why not?”

  She couldn’t explain it. “I need to see him alone.”

  Collin took a step back. “You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head angrily. “Are you trying to get out of the engagement? Is that what this is about?”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “It sure seems that way,” he said as he yanked off his coat and threw it on the spare bed again. “So, go. Go see him. Go satisfy your curiosity. When the part comes in for the car tomorrow and Fred gets it fixed, we’re out of here. A plow came through earlier, so at least one road must be open. But there is
another storm coming behind this one. We’ll have a window of opportunity. We can’t miss it.” He stilled, his gaze sliding to her. “Tell me this isn’t going to happen again in the next town or the next.”

  She mugged a face at him, and his expression fell as he came over to squat down in front of her. “Baby, I love you. But you have to put Danny behind you for good. This is a new beginning for both of us. I need to know that you’re in it one hundred percent with me—not some ghost.”

  Her heart ached at the hurt she saw in his eyes. She cupped his handsome face in her palms. She hated that she was putting him through this. Leaning forward, she kissed him. “I’m sorry. Once I’m sure—”

  His cell rang, and she withdrew her hands from his face as he rose to reach for his phone. “Yeah,” he said into it and turned to her, mouthing that he’d take it outside.

  Kate picked up one of the books she’d bought at the store. She opened it, read the first page and then realized she couldn’t recall what it was about. Her mind was on Jon Harper.

  Rising, she went to the window. Collin had walked down past the row of motel rooms to a covered area out of the wind. He was pacing as he talked, which meant it was business.

  She grabbed her coat and stepped outside the room. Collin had his back to her as she turned the opposite direction to walk down the highway toward the workshop. She had to get this over with; then she could leave this town and never look back.

  The snow was falling so hard and fast that when she looked behind her, she could no longer see Collin and could barely make out the motel’s vacancy sign. She walked faster. She desperately wanted this over, needed this over. Once she looked into Jon Harper’s eyes, she would know. She would apologize for frightening him yesterday and for acting so strangely. She would assure him that she wouldn’t bother him again.

  Then, she could leave this town having no doubts. No regrets.

  She trudged down the short alley through the deep snow, her eyes on the carriage-house doors. Both were closed. Was there still a light coming from the narrow crack between them? What if he wasn’t there?