“MOM.” PENNY SNUGGLED closer to Ella beneath the quilts. When Ella’s eyes opened, Penny sat up and pushed off the bedding. “I sed? I schoo? I… Woof?” She coughed once.
Out of recent habit, Ella reached for a tissue, sat up and requested that Penny blow her nose. It didn’t escape her that Penny may have been congested, but she wasn’t coughing repeatedly anymore.
“Ella?” Sophie knocked on the door. “Gabby says that woman with the three boys is going to snowplow the highway this morning.” Which meant they could do more than walk to the diner and back.
Ella gasped dramatically for Penny’s benefit. “Do you know what that means?”
“Huh?” Penny asked, wide-eyed.
“School will be in session today.”
“Schoo! Schoo!” Penny rolled onto her tummy and slid off the edge of the bed. “Cos. Want cos. Go schoo-ooo-ooo. Pease. Mom-Mom-Mom.”
“All right. All right.” Ella was excited, too.
A strip of road to walk on. There’d be more people to talk to. Others who’d found themselves snowbound and in need of human companionship. Like, like… She couldn’t think of any, except Noah.
It wasn’t long before she stood with Penny on the front porch of the inn and watched Mitch sprinkle salt on the cleared walkway.
A door slammed at the side of the inn.
Gabby walked across the snow toward her father, shoulders bunched up more than a shriveled raisin. “I’m late. I hate tests. I’m going to fail math.”
“You’re not going to fail math,” Mitch reassured her in a tone that said this conversation wasn’t a new one. “You worry too much.”
“I worry?” Gabby stomped her foot. “Do you know how I can worry less? If I were to know where I’m going to be living next year. You promised that sweet old man you’d watch out for this town and then people come who want to watch out for this town and you treat them colder than a prosecutor would a murderer.” She hurried toward the diner. “I’m going to fail math and next year I’ll be homeless.”
“Wrong on both counts,” Mitch grumbled. “Why couldn’t I have had a boy?”
“I heard that,” Gabby shouted back, flinging open the door to the diner.
Penny gasped, perhaps realizing where Gabby was going. “Schoo?”
Mitch’s head whipped around.
“I thought you knew we were here,” Ella said guiltily, coming down the stairs.
He looked from Ella to the diner and back, his discomfort as plain as a spaghetti stain on his face. “I hope you don’t think…”
“It’s more you and Shane.” No sense denying it. “You guys are like two dogs circling the same bone.” Ella stopped next to Mitch, ignoring the way Penny kicked her legs like a cowgirl using her spurs on her horse. “I guess Gabby noticed.”
“My daughter notices everything.” Mitch frowned.
“It’s the age.” Ella thought back to the time she was twelve. “You’re beginning to see the world differently. The stakes and the consequences of your actions. And your parents’.” This last came out wistfully.
“She’ll get over it. She’ll pass her math test and—”
“And she’ll still be uncertain about her living whereabouts when your leases are up on December thirty-first.”
Mitch’s frown deepened.
The rumble of a heavy engine filled the air. And then a gray truck rounded the bend to the north and moved slowly toward them, tunneling a path in the snow. The truck stopped in front of the diner and a familiar trio of boys tumbled out with backpacks and laughter.
The woman driving the local snowplow continued on, waving.
“How does she know where the road is?” Ella wondered aloud.
“There are no trees on the road.” Mitch joined them on the porch. “But she’s been known to clip a mailbox or a car, so she stays in the middle and then does her wide turn at the crossroads. The sidewalk is icy. Proceed with caution.”
Ella did just that. All the way to the diner.
“I’m all out of lettuce,” Ivy apologized when Ella and Penny came through the door. “I’ve put in an order, which they’ll deliver as soon as the passes are clear.”
“Which should be tomorrow or the next day,” Roy said in his perpetually perky tone. “How are you taking to snowshoeing, missy?”
“I do okay.” Ella smiled. “Is it bad to admit I’ve fallen twice?”
“You know what they say about falling?” Roy toasted Ella with his coffee mug. “That’s how we learn to get back on our feet.”
“Hey, Roy,” Ella said slowly, still considering the wisdom of the old man’s words. “I noticed the Lees built some of these cabins. Who were they?”
“The Lees?” Roy’s eyes bulged.
“The Lees?” Ivy echoed from the kitchen.
“The Lees.” Ella nodded.
“Don’t know,” Roy said unconvincingly.
Ivy was no longer visible in the kitchen.
The schoolkids had spread out across the booths the Monroes usually sat in and were remarkably quiet and focused, as if they were all taking math tests. They didn’t weigh in on the Lees, either.
Ella headed toward a booth near the back. She never sat this far away from the woodstove. It was chillier near the hallway.
Mr. Garland, the nice teacher, brought Penny a sheet to color and some crayons. After Penny was relieved of her snowsuit, she studied the test-taking children with wide eyes for a moment, and then grabbed a blue crayon and leaned over her coloring page with serious intent.
A framed line drawing hung above the booth. The paper was yellow with age and wrinkled, as if it’d been in someone’s pocket or satchel before being preserved. It was a map. Ella could make out log cabins and at the bottom of the drawing the artist had noted something and written a date—1919.
“Is this a map of the town?” Ella asked, turning around, but everyone was too busy or preoccupied to answer.
Or perhaps too polite to begin a conversation while the class on the other side of the diner was taking a test. At least now Ella understood why they didn’t hold their sessions in the schoolhouse. It was full of junk!
Roy had his nose in a magazine. It sounded like Ivy was moving boxes in the storage room or pantry. Shane was holding up his cell phone to the windowpane, trying to get service. Laurel was slumped at the counter, looking like she hadn’t slept well. She hadn’t touched the toast that Ella had stipulated she order when Laurel had insisted upon getting out of the inn. Sophie and the boys were in the next booth. The twins were demanding tall stacks of pancakes for breakfast and Sophie was trying her best to get them to order eggs.
“Sophie, you order protein and let the boys have their pancakes.” Ella slid into the booth on her knees, hoping for a closer look at the map.
“All that sugar.” Sophie poked at her glasses. “They’ll be bouncing off the walls.”
“And then they’ll crash for a nice long nap.” Ella squinted at the small, faint writing. “The most difficult path.” She looked to her daughter. “What does that mean?”
Penny shrugged.
The front door opened. It was Noah. He headed straight to Ella, Woof at his side.
Watching them approach, a warm feeling blossomed in Ella’s chest. This was no flutter. No swoon of attraction. Ella felt as if the four of them were meant to be together, to be a family. Maybe lightning had struck twice. Maybe she could fall for two completely different men in two incredibly short amounts of time.
Because the feeling of rightness was almost identical to what she’d felt with Bryce. And to her, that rightness was love. Love for a tall, beautiful, intelligent man who fought to hide his scars and need to be normal harder than she fought to stay in the Monroe family.
I’m in so much trouble.
Ian. Holden. They’d judge. Could they perhaps try to force Penny out of her inheritance?
For the moment, Ella didn’t care.
Are you ready, Hezzie?
“Woof! No!” Penny cried, holding out her arms for a hug. “Waffles?”
Noah embraced Penny and then shed his outer gear, revealing jeans and a blue checked flannel shirt. He kept on the gloves, of course. Woof squeezed his big body under the table and laid his head on the bench seat so Penny could pet him. Ella stayed where she was. It was safer not to move, not to glance or reach.
“Waffles for breakfast?” Noah caught Ivy’s eye as she returned to the main room and held up two fingers. “What a great idea, Penny.” True to his word, cognizant of their audience, Noah didn’t hug or kiss Ella in greeting. But the way he looked at her was just as intimate. “What are you looking at?”
“I think this is a map of the town.” Ella nodded toward the drawing.
He agreed. And then they continued to stare at the find in silence while Penny made sweet noises at Woof.
To anyone looking, she and Noah seemed to be appreciating the map as if it was one of those paintings the Monroes owned that was worth millions. Ella could barely see the map for the tension between them. It vibrated along her skin, urging her to move closer, to give in, to admit that there was something here to pursue, something more than simple chemistry.
“I apologize,” Noah whispered.
She gave him a sideways glance. “Why?”
“I should have walked in and kissed you good-morning,” he murmured with a straight face.
“Perhaps some other time,” Ella murmured back.
“Promises, promises.”
Ella had to bite back a smile.
It was easy to forget the Monroes when she was with Noah. But they were all here, representing the family she was desperate to hold on to because their love and support justified her love for Bryce.
Laurel lifted her head to glance their way.
Shane looked at them over his shoulder.
Sophie shushed the twins. “What did you say?” she asked Ella.
“The most difficult path.” Ella raised her voice. “It’s here on the bottom of this old town map. What do you think it means?”
Noah sighed, but played along. “They tell me these passes are the most difficult to traverse in Idaho.”
Shane joined them, peering at the framed drawing. “The page is ripped on the bottom. Maybe there’s more to it, like a town motto or something.”
Ella dug her phone out of her pocket and took a picture. “I feel justified. There’s supposed to be four cabins on the other side of those shops on this side of the river and there are only three.”
“What if…” Shane’s gaze turned speculative. “What if that’s Grandpa Harlan’s cabin in Philly? People move cabins all the time nowadays.”
Ella rejected the idea almost immediately. “I’d need to check the dimensions, but the Philadelphia cabin is as large as the fur-trading post.”
“I bet Mitch knows,” Shane said, returning to his booth. “He knows everything.”
Noah and Ella exchanged quick, private glances and almost-smiles.
Ella was willing to bet Mitch didn’t know everything.
* * *
MITCH ENTERED IVY’S, dropped coins in the jar on the counter and helped himself to coffee. He immediately sat across from Shane. “How’s that plan to save the town coming?”
Shane locked his screen and put his phone down on the white Formica. “You haven’t convinced me this town is worth saving.”
Mitch tapped his fingers on the tabletop and glanced over at his daughter, whose head was bent over her schoolwork. “What if I could?”
“Start talking.”
“Your grandfather loved this town. He…” Mitch faltered. There was something in his expression that nagged at Shane, a mix of emotions he’d seen before.
When Mitch failed to say anything else, Shane sat up and leaned forward. “Do you know what I used to do? What I used to love to do?”
Mitch shook his head.
“I ran a chain of hotels, which meant I had a cadre of employees. I hired men and women who were independent and used to running their own show because I wanted them to operate as if whatever hotel or hotel restaurant or hotel club was their own.” It had also freed Shane up to concentrate on special projects and expansion. He gave Mitch a knowing stare. “I recognize the same ability to lead and the desire to run things in you. I can see why my grandfather put his trust in you to watch over Second Chance.”
Because clearly, he had. Everyone looked to Mitch.
“I would’ve hired you,” Shane admitted, because after years of managing people he sensed they wouldn’t get along until he gave the local man some respect. “Despite the sarcasm and the holier-than-thou attitude. I would have given you a chance to fit in with my style and way of operating.” Shane tucked away his cell phone. “But if our situations were reversed, I don’t think you would’ve done the same. I think you took one look at me—at us—and came up with some preconceived notion about the Monroes.”
Mitch looked taken aback.
“I don’t know why I came to Second Chance in the middle of winter.” Shane shook his head. “Was it grief that sent me running here so soon after my grandfather passed? Was it a need to reconnect with him and build upon whatever vision he saw in this place?” Shane shook his head again. “I have no idea.”
“Whatever it was, you convinced three others it was the right thing to do.” Mitch’s dark gaze was even. There was no sarcasm in his voice. It was a compliment from a man who didn’t seem eager to give any out.
He’d persuaded two more—Cam and Jonah—but that wasn’t the point.
“And now we’re stuck,” Shane said. In more than just the literal sense. “You and me. Me and my family. My family and this town.”
“I appreciate you extending an olive branch when I’ve been clutching mine so fiercely,” Mitch said. “I’m not always easy to get along with. It comes from years spent as a defense attorney.”
“Hence the ready sarcasm.”
“Like calls to like, they say.” Mitch chuckled, and then he sobered. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know why your grandfather decided to buy us out. He did want his grandchildren to love the town and help it prosper, but he could have done that in so many different ways.”
“My grandfather had the golden touch when it came to business and frankly, Mitch, Second Chance could use a lot of that.”
Mitch didn’t argue. He got out of the booth. “How about a tour? You, me and Ella. I can’t promise it will be snark-free, but it will be informative.”
“Great.” Shane signaled to Ella to join them. “Sophie, can you watch Penny for a few minutes?”
“I’ve got her,” Noah said with too much familiarity for Shane’s liking.
Mitch went over to say something to his daughter.
“What’s going on with you two?” Shane asked when Ella was within whispering distance. “Do you need me to say something to Noah?”
Ella closed her eyes briefly, shoulders slumping. “No. We were snowed in together for two days. We’re friends. Penny adores him, and he adores her.”
The good doctor glanced over to them. It was clear he adored more than Penny.
“Geez, Ella.” Shane took her by the arm and led her out the door. The wind tugged at the ends of his jacket and swept past his cotton layers. “Think this through. There’s a reason he’s practicing in the mountains and it probably has something to do with the reason he wears gloves all the time.”
“Shane.”
He zipped his jacket closed. “When Bryce died, some of us made a pact.”
“Shane.”
The sun was blinding, bouncing off all that white snow.
Where had he put his sunglasses? He patted his pockets. “We promised to watch out for you.”
“Shane.” Ella spoke his name with increasing annoyance.
“You don’t know who that guy is.”
“Shane!” she shouted loud enough to be heard inside.
The good doctor got to his feet.
Ella put her gloved hands on Shane’s cheeks and lowered her voice. “You worry about other people too much. You worry about this town and what we’re going to do with it too much. You need to take better care of yourself.” She tugged the black knit cap off her head and put it on his. “I take note of your concern, but—”
“You want me to butt out.” How could a knit cap make him feel degrees warmer? As a child of the Las Vegas desert, he’d never had to worry about this kind of cold before. Perhaps there was something to the way Ella and the other residents bundled up. He knotted the scarf at Ella’s neck.
“This is hard for me.” Ella’s eyes looked ready to spill tears. “Finding Bryce… Losing Bryce…”
“Say no more.” Shane drew her into a hug because he’d rather do that than witness her cry. “You’ve got family. That’s all you need.”
Mitch came outside wrapped up as much as Ella. He took in Mitch’s jacket with a smile. “Do you ski, Shane?”
“No.”
“Hunt? Fish? Camp?”
“No.” Shane was too busy running a chain of luxury hotels to have a hobby. Or he had been.
Mitch gave him the once-over and a wry grin. “Nice shoes.”
Shane looked down at his Italian loafers, and then registered the fact that Ella and Mitch had on snow boots. Ella’s were a hideous neon pink. “I’ll be fine.”
“Mackenzie sells snow gear in the store.” Mitch led them out to the highway. “Along with scarves and gloves.”
“And hats,” Ella said, using her outdoor voice.
The wind was rustling the pines, as if they needed the snow cleared from their limbs. Clumps of the white stuff were falling to earth, releasing snowflakes that rode on the wind.
“I’ll be fine,” Shane insisted. So what if he was cold for a minute or two? In Vegas, he was hot for a minute or two when he went outside in the summer. He’d live.
Mitch stopped in the middle of the highway. Not that there was a danger in that—with the pass being closed there was no traffic. “Second Chance wasn’t more than a crossroads and a summer cavalry station until a gifted cabin builder and trapper named Seymore Lee decided this would be a good place to open a fur-trading post.”
The cold nipped at Shane’s toes. Ella pulled her scarf up higher, covering her nose and ears. He pointed at the knit cap, silently asking if she wanted it back. Ella shook her head.
“He built that big cabin up there,” Mitch continued. “And several others. His craftsmanship is why many of the round-log cabins in town are still standing today. Seymore Lee was like Rockefeller in Second Chance. He had a monopoly on land and timber. You had to buy from him to build anything.” Mitch pointed to the flat-log building that housed the general store and garage. “His descendants honed their technique and acquired flat-log building skills, and later more traditional carpentry when the sawmill opened in Challis. The Lee family built that church and schoolhouse. They used their influence to bring shopkeepers and service providers to town. They weathered the long hard winters. They designed this stretch of downtown so with a little effort people could traverse either side during the winter.”
“Is that why there are paths between the cabins on either end of town?” Ella asked in words chopped by cold. “And the covered sidewalks?”
“Yes.” Mitch didn’t look like the chill affected him at all. “Although the covered sidewalks collapsed on the high side of the road.”
The wind was so frigid, Shane felt as if he didn’t have a jacket on. “This is a quaint history lesson, but what does this have to do with my grandfather?”
“He was a Lee.”
Shane punched his hands deeper in his jacket pockets. “Say again? I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Harlan Lee Monroe,” Mitch said with a hint of impatience. “Your grandfather was a Lee. He grew up here. None of you knew that?”
Comprehension dawned. The letter. The small-town purchase. The unexpected bequest.
Ella laughed, a sound carried away by the wind. “You don’t know how relieved I am to know that Grandpa Harlan’s letter had nothing to do with me.”
“Why didn’t I know he was born here?” Shane looked around the town with fresh eyes, not seeing the run-down buildings that would be so easy to demolish. Instead, he saw his grandfather being taught the value of hard work and community.
“Do you know where your grandmother was born?” Ella asked, peering at Shane’s face.
Shane opened his mouth to answer, but then shook his head. “No. I never asked.” More concerned with running the family business than in learning about its founder. Shane suddenly wanted to know more about his roots. “Which one was my grandfather’s cabin?” It had to be the one that was missing. There was no other explanation.
Mitch shook his head. “He never said.”
“The Lees owned the trading post and the mercantile?” Ella asked.
“They owned everything, until they left town and sold most of the buildings.”
“Was Harlan the last Lee?” Ella’s gaze was intent. She looked like she had hold of a theory, which was more than what Shane had.
“I’m not sure. I’m sorry.” Mitch held out his hands. “I only know a little from what I gleaned from Harlan. He didn’t talk much about his past.”
“That much we’ll agree with you on,” Shane said, staring longingly at the warm diner and then at the inn. He needed to call his father and ask him what he knew of Grandpa Harlan’s past. He needed to call the other grandchildren and pick their brains, too. There was more to discover in Second Chance than bitter cold, a dozen feet of snow and empty log cabins.
Ella was back on point. “If Harlan was the last Lee and he sold the town off when he left, that would explain a lot. How he financed his start in oil. Why the mercantile and trading post look like someone just walked away. Why there is no record of him buying the mercantile and trading post.”
“He might never have sold them.” Shane was catching on. The cold seeped through his thin jacket. “I think I want to see these cabins.”
Ella stomped her feet and nodded.
“Is there a reason we can’t have this discussion in the diner, where it’s warm?” Shane asked.
“There is.” Mitch looked lawyerly grim. “When Harlan bought us out he had us each sign nondisclosure agreements. We weren’t supposed to pass on anything we knew about Harlan or anything he said to us individually.”
“Harlan loved people.” Ella’s gaze sought Shane’s. “He loved talking. Everyone in town could have a different secret of his.”
But that didn’t explain why a lawyer was breaking that contract. Shane hit Mitch with a hard stare. “Then why the change of heart?”
“Because Gabby’s worried they’ll have to move.” Ella nodded toward the inn. “I overheard them arguing this morning.”
“You can’t tell the rest of the town that I told you anything.” Mitch turned and began walking along the path they’d created, making Shane feel as if Mitch hadn’t spilled all of his sworn secrets. Mitch paused, glancing back as if realizing Shane and Ella weren’t following him. “I’ve given you a lot to think about. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
Shane’s phone buzzed. It was Cousin Holden, the leader of the six Monroes who wanted to challenge the will. He was asking for an update. Shane shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed for the diner. It was going to take a while to figure this out. There was more to discover here than just the town’s market value. There was family history and something else profound Shane couldn’t quite name.