Wild at Heart Page 29

“No.” I say more abruptly than I intend, but Wild—and Wren Fletcher—did not fail. “My father had terminal cancer. He decided to sell.”

Sympathy passes through Teddy’s blue eyes. “Well, we get all kinds of people coming through here. We’ll be sure to pass along your hubby’s name if they mention lookin’ for a ride somewhere.”

“That would be amazing.”

“Sure, sure. And Toby here also works on planes so if you’re ever in need of a mechanic, you’ve got one right down the road.”

“Really?” Running six kilometers has paid off. “Because we have Phil’s Beaver and it needs some work if we want to get it in the air again.” I suppress my goofy grin as I realize I’ve begun talking about planes by their model, as if it comes naturally to me. I remember a time when everyone around me did it, and it sounded weird.

“Well, good, then. Glad we can help each other out. That’s how it works around here.”

This is going so well, I decide to forge on. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d love to leave some pamphlets here when I get them. Or even just put one up on that bulletin board.”

“Sure, sure. You go on right ahead, dear. That’s what it’s there for.” Teddy waves a hand toward it, then turns his attention to Toby, patting the counter. “Hunter called. He’s bringin’ his machine in. His engine died on him, out on the middle of the lake. They had to drag him all the way home.”

“I guess I’ll go stoke the fire in the garage. Get it warmed up.” Toby studies his cracked hands. “You sure you don’t want a coffee, Calla?”

“No. I should get back.” Jonah will be calling soon.

“’Kay. Come by tomorrow and I’ll look at that engine for you. Probably just needs some regular maintenance. Phil was never good at keeping up with that.”

Teddy’s cheeks lift with his jovial smile. “You swing by whenever you want, dear. I know Muriel would love to meet you. She and Colette used to spend a lot of time together, mucking around in the garden. And bring that pilot of yours here on Friday night! It’d be good to meet him.” Teddy waggles his eyebrows. “It’s ladies’ night.”

“Ladies’ night,” I echo, eying the giant stuffed fish on the wall next to a sign that reads “I love a big rack,” before meeting Toby’s gaze.

“There’ll be exactly four old drunk men here on Friday,” he confirms soberly. “No ladies.”

“One lady,” Teddy corrects him with an arched brow. “Your mother is always here.”

“Except she ain’t no lady,” Toby counters. “She’ll tell you that herself.”

“Yeah, fine. No ladies,” Teddy agrees with a chuckle. “Until May, that is, when this place wakes up. Anyway, you’re welcome any time. And here …” He grabs a scrap of paper and a pen and slaps it down in front of his son, stabbing the counter with his stubby index finger. “You should have our number, in case of anything. This is a tight-knit community. We rely on each other whenever there’s a need. Make sure you go out and meet your neighbors.”

“We’ve already met Roy.” I school my expression as best I can.

“Oh boy.” Teddy gives me a knowing look. “Dealing with that guy is like flipping a coin and getting the wrong side nine out of ten times. Just remember, his bark is worse than his bite.”

“His bark’s pretty bad,” Toby says, scribbling his number down.

“Yeah, Muriel and him have gone at it a few times. They haven’t shot each other yet, but there’s still time for that. He’s not too keen on the tourism industry and …” Teddy waves aimlessly around him. “Here we are, survivin’ on it.”

No wonder we’ve already started off on Roy’s bad side. A good chunk of The Yeti’s business will come from catering to tourists. Phil must have mentioned our plans to Roy during their livestock trade discussions.

I accept the slip of paper that Toby passes over with a smile. “Thanks.”

“Uh-huh. Any issues, anything you guys need, you give us a call, dear.” Teddy sees my bear spray and my bells and nods to himself. “Can never be too prepared.”

“Right?” I’m beaming from this pleasant and advantageous introduction as I take one last long look around the Ale House, in all its mismatched glory. The place feels far less empty and uncomfortable now than it did when I walked in. These neighbors, though six kilometers away, more than make up for one curmudgeon.

“I’ll be by tomorrow morning with one of the snow machines,” I promise, heading for the door, my eyes grazing the antlers mounted to a plaque on the far wall. A thought strikes me. “Hey, you know what you guys could use in here?”

Teddy and Toby both frown and, while they look nothing alike, there is a definite family resemblance in that expression.

I grin. “Some animal heads for your walls.”

Chapter Fourteen

I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest as I survey the trees, searching for whatever just moved within them. It’s the second time in as many minutes that I caught motion from the corner of my eye. The first time, I dismissed it as my unease playing with my imagination. But when it happened again …

There’s something out there, in broad daylight, shifting among the shadows, and every hair along the back of my neck is standing on end.

Fumbling with the can of bear spray attached to the holster, I pull it out with shaky hands and grip it tightly. I march along the driveway toward home, the bells jingling with each step, blood pulsing in my ears, my head on a swivel as my eyes dart this way and that. I struggle not to run, in case whatever it is would prefer to give chase.

I’m so tense that when the satellite phone rings in my coat pocket, I yelp with surprise. “Jonah!” I yell into the phone.

“Hey. Landed in Unalakleet. What are you up to?” His voice is a bit distant and distorted. And I don’t know if I’ve ever been so happy to hear it.

“I think I’m being followed,” I say loudly, hoping the sound of my voice scares whatever it is away.

“What?” I can picture him, his brow furrowed, his hand on his hip.

“There’s something in the trees. I went for a run and …” I give him the thirty-second explanation, my words rushed as I keep walking toward the house.

“Okay. Relax, Calla.”

“I’m trying to!” But I’m out here in the middle of nowhere, alone, with any number of wild animals surrounding me.

“Where are you now?”

“Halfway between the hangar and the house.” I can make out the green of our roof up ahead. Jonah drove the truck down to the planes this morning. I wish I’d jumped in and driven it back.

“Okay, you’re not that far. Keep walking. I’ll stay on with you until you get home.”

“Thank you.” While he can’t reach through the phone to protect me, talking to him has a calming effect.

“It’s gotta be that fox. It must have a den around us.”

“No. The fur wasn’t orange. It was brown or gray, something like that.” A fleeting blur of dull color. “And big.”

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