Burned by a Kiss (13 page)

In this case, they were defeated by a trifecta of strange occurrences. She took the chair Miss Sugar indicated, glad to be near a fire.

“Thank you for the remedy. I feel much better.”

“Homeopathy,” their hostess said with conviction. “I’ve found it very useful over the years. You just had a little something bugging you. Fortunately, I had the right remedy on hand!”

Emma didn’t know if she believed in remedies, but even if it was just a placebo effect, she was thankful for it.

“Now let’s see,” Miss Sugar said, “I’m trying to remember what I know about Star Canyon. There was that fire there recently, of course. Terrible tragedy.”

Emma stiffened, not able to look at Sierra.

“Yes,” Sierra murmured.

“Melly Shelby was so upset. She said her cousin Mary was just devastated. They say there was an accelerant used in that fire. I can never figure out why people do such things. But then, I don’t understand why we’ve been hit by tire thieves.” She shook her head. “They say they come in from the big city, and work a small town over. Anybody who is parked on the street is fair game. But in broad daylight!”

Sierra leaned forward. “Who said an accelerant was used in the fire?”

“Well, it’s common knowledge,” Miss Sugar said. Emma glanced at Sierra, alarmed. It wasn’t common knowledge in Star Canyon—at least not in their close-knit group. And Captain Martin would have told them. He would have let Sierra and Santana know if there’d been any developments.

“Oh, it was definitely set on purpose. And it all had to do with that fire starter in Star Canyon,” Miss Sugar rambled on.

“Fire starter?” Emma asked.

“A firebug. They said there’s been a rash of small fires, but the one that took that poor fire captain’s life was the biggest. Such a shame. They said he was such a good man. Excuse me, I’ll see if the gentlemen need anything. Only way I know to keep men from being more upset than they already are is good food. Or at least it works around here.”

She strode off. Emma looked at Sierra.

“Why didn’t you tell her it was your father?”

“I don’t know,” Sierra stared off into space before taking a deep breath. “But I just learned more than I ever knew before. I wonder if Santana knows.”

“I doubt it. He would have told you.”

Sierra nodded. “He would have. That leaves me to wonder why Captain Martin hasn’t told us that he has more information.”

“You realize Miss Sugar is a gossip, in spite of her good intentions. And you know how small towns are, word travels fast that isn’t always true.”

Sierra rubbed her hands over her arms. “What do you think about Nick?”

“Nothing much. He’s nice. Seems genuine.” Emma looked at her friend. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone new to town. Everyone that I know, I’ve known all my life.”

Miss Sugar came back inside. “Well, let me get you to your rooms. Range Rover Man has decided to sleep inside his car, to keep it from further damage. His friend says he’s going to sit in here for a while, but that you two are to take the rooms.” Miss Sugar smiled. “I get the feeling they’re going to take turns keeping watch over the car.”

“I suppose that’s best.” Emma stood. “Thank you for letting us stay, Miss Sugar.”

“Mr. Range Rover paid me up front, and thankfully, I’ve got comfortable rooms available. The snow is really piling up outside, but you’ll be warm in here. And I’ve got to dig out a blanket or two to give that young fellow. He doesn’t look like the type who’s done much bunking behind the wheel.”

Emma smiled. “I’m positive you’re right.”

They followed the friendly proprietress down the hall. “Each of these rooms has their own bath. I think you’ll find everything you need. If you want breakfast, it’s served at seven a.m. sharp. How are you feeling?” she asked Sierra.

“I can’t believe it, but I think you fixed me right up.”

Miss Sugar nodded. “Homeopathy’s great stuff. Goodnight, ladies.”

Emma stared after Miss Sugar as she trundled back down the hall with her purposeful gait. “I’m going to call and check on Jenny. If you start feeling ill again, let me know.”

“Thanks for everything, Emma.” She went into the room on the left side of the hall. “I didn’t mean to involve you in my adventures. But I’m glad you’re here.”

Emma smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Get some sleep.”

Sierra closed her door, and Emma put her backpack on the bed in her room. She called and checked on Jenny, made sure all was well at the clinic, then closed her door quietly and went down the hall. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but something told her Miss Sugar wasn’t done talking.

There was always more to learn from a gregarious soul like Miss Sugar.

She found her in the café, wiping down the tables. “Can I help?”

“Mercy, no. You go on to bed.” Miss Sugar smiled at her. “I’ve run this café and bed and breakfast for thirty years. Cleaning the tables at night and tidying up is how I get myself wound down for the next day.”

Emma thought that might be true—but then again, the Range Rover could be seen from just about any angle, and Emma had the strangest sensation Miss Sugar was more interested in that than in the tidiness of her café. Though to be fair, her food was good, and her tearoom very clean. But she kept glancing surreptitiously toward the window, and Emma felt certain it wasn’t just the snow that had her attention.

Emma picked up a local newspaper—really more of a brochure, two sheets of rather plain black-on-white text—and sat down to read.

“If you’re looking for the big fellow, he said he was leaving to find some trouble.”

Emma looked up. Assuming Miss Sugar was speaking of Santana, she said, “He’s not in the car with Nick?”

“Nope. That young fellow’s got to be cold. The snow is four inches thick on the top of his car. There’s ice underneath everything. Quite a snowfall, I’d say.”

“What kind of trouble can anybody find in a snowstorm? Isn’t everything closed for the night?”

“I mentioned that there was always a darts game across the way in Peter Miller’s barber shop. Your friend said he’d check it out.” Miss Sugar smiled. “Of course, there’s also a beer to be found.”

Emma was surprised that Santana would leave Sierra to play darts. “I think I’ll check on Nick.”

“Oh, I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Every now and again, he switches on the car. Probably to charge his phone.” Miss Sugar went in the kitchen, returning with a Styrofoam cup of coffee and a plastic baggie with cookies in it. “Don’t fall down out there. I don’t want to be sued for the limb you’d no doubt break in this weather. Tell him breakfast is at seven a.m. sharp.”

“I will. Thank you.” She took the food and went outside, heading to the driver’s side. As she’d suspected, the window was iced up. After a few shoves, Nick managed to get the door open. He took the coffee gratefully, and the cookie bag.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Where’s Santana?”

“I’m not my cousin’s keeper.”

She glanced across at Peter Miller’s. “I’m going to join you for a minute.”

“Good luck getting the door open.”

“I work with large animals. I’ll see if I’ve got brute strength enough to crack it open. I hate to see you suffering out here alone.”

She went around to the passenger side, relieved to find that door not as caked with ice. She got in, not surprised that Nick had his car charger plugged in.

“Getting a lot of work done?”

“Surprisingly, yes. California’s two hours behind, so that helps. And London is several hours ahead. Life’s good, despite the storm.”

“And the lack of wheels.”

“Now that part sucks.” Nick drank his coffee. “I think Santana went to see if the locals know anything about tire thieves around here.”

She stiffened. “He didn’t go to play darts?”

“Well, he might do that. But his parting words to me were
I’m going to check out the local grapevine and experts on wheel removal
.”

Emma didn’t like the sound of that. “Miss Sugar says the thieves come from the city.”

“Santana said Miss Sugar might be covering her ass.”

Emma considered it. “It’s possible.”

“Sure. No one wants to taint their town. It’s bad for business. And civic pride is important in small towns, anyway. How’s Sierra?”

“She seems much better. Miraculously cured.” Emma wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it.

“That was smoke and mirrors for your benefit. Whatever was bugging Sierra disappeared just as fast as it came,” Nick scoffed. “Her cure had nothing to do with that bottle of water she drank.”

That was probably true. “I think I’ll go check on him.”

Nick glanced at her. “I doubt he’d approve.”

“Why?”

“Because he just wouldn’t. You know that. Santana doesn’t even like me sitting in this car. That’s why he’s appointed himself guardian of the misfits.”

“Misfits?”

Nick shrugged. “You think he’s happy about being stuck in a small town in a snowstorm with a man who took over his home and his livelihood, his somewhat rebellious little sister, and his veterinarian girlfriend? With missing wheels and a too-friendly B&B owner, and a vintage—putting it kindly—wedding gown in the backseat? This is a Navy SEAL nightmare.”

“For the record, I’m not the girlfriend.” She got out of the car. “Don’t freeze to death.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m learning survival skills, and Miss Sugar assures me that these are wool blankets. She swears I’ll be warm as toast.”

She got out of the car. “Glad to hear it.”

“Emma.”

“Yes?” She leaned down to look in the car at him.

“Just go back inside. Santana will yell my ear off if he finds out you left.”

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Tops.”

He tapped his Rolex. “Don’t make me get out of these blankets to come after you.”

Emma smiled. “You won’t have to.”

She closed the door and carefully negotiated her way across the street. The shop was dark inside, but when she pushed the door, it swung open, a bell tinkling on the handle. “Hello?”

Raucous laughter and the sounds of male camaraderie erupted from somewhere in the back of the barber shop. She went in the direction of the noise and found a door marked Employees Only.

Maybe twenty men were inside, engrossed in a soccer game on a huge TV, neglecting the six dart boards on an opposite wall. In the thick of the scrum was Santana, leaning against a bar, staring at the screen, drinking a beer. A goal was scored, a yell went up, and high fives were passed all around.

Emma quietly crept out, relieved that he was having a good time. Very likely for the first time since he’d returned home, he’d found a place where he could relax and unwind from deployment, from everything that had happened since he’d come back.

She rapped on the window as she went by Nick’s car and opened the door. “You’re missing a great time over there.”

He looked surprised. “At this time of night, in this town?”

“Don’t be such a snob. Go have a beer. They’ve got a big screen TV that would probably impress even you.”

Emma smiled and shut the door. “Goodnight, Miss Sugar,” she called, and Miss Sugar’s head popped around the corner from the kitchen.

“Good night! Seven a.m. sharp, earlier if you’d like! Tell your crew!”

She’d forgotten to mention it to Nick, and Santana didn’t care about breakfast right now. There was time for that later. She went down the hall and out the door that separated the establishments, crossing the small stone pathway. Inside the bungalow, she listened at Sierra’s door.

Hearing nothing, Emma went into her room, took a fast shower in the cramped but clean bathroom, and hopped in bed, grateful for the clean sheets and the wool blanket on the bed.

Miss Sugar was right: her blankets were warm as toast.

• • •

Emma was just about to fall asleep—her eyelids were so heavy she was two seconds from the best sleep she’d had in years—no dogs, no pets to worry about, this was like being on vacation—when she heard her bedroom door open.

She froze, her eyes snapping open. She was positive she’d locked the door. “Who’s there?”

The door closed. Emma blinked. Maybe she’d heard the door across the hall opening. But there’d been a slight shaft of light peeking through the darkness for just a second before the door shut.

She squealed as something large fell across her bed.

“Sorry,” Santana said. “That wasn’t the most romantic entrance I’ve ever made.”

She sat up, relieved. “What are you doing?”

“Checking on you.”

“Did you hurt yourself? What did you just trip over?”

“I think your boots. Or my own big feet.”

Emma smiled in the darkness. “Are you under the influence?”

He snorted. “Not from three beers.”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Obviously, considering you left a booby trap between the bed and the door for me to kill myself on. And yet, I should be used to evading dogs and cats and parakeets.”

“Lovebirds. My beautiful birds are lovebirds.” She heard boots thudding to the floor. “Again, why are you in my room?” Emma asked.

“You checked on me over at the local excuse for male entertainment. Thought you might need me.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought I was spying. Probably sent by your sister, that’s what you thought.”

He crawled into bed, flopping onto the pillow, sighing with what sounded like exhaustion. She realized he’d probably been up since four a.m. with the cattle at the ranch, before he’d decided to drive Nick to the airport.

Before their adventure had ever begun.

“All right, I didn’t think you needed me. But I was pretty sure I needed you.”

A warm glow started inside her. “Is Nick still outside?”

“Do you really think that money-obsessed carpetbagger is going to let anything else happen to his beloved heap?”

She smiled in the darkness. “Now that you put it that way, I guess not.”

“That’s right. If I’ve learned anything about my unexpected cousin-on-paper-only, it’s that he respects money more than anything else in the world.”

“I don’t think he’s all that mercenary.”

“Don’t rob me of my delusions. I need them.”