The winding mountain highway unspooled ahead through the narrow river canyon, but if Becca remembered right, there were places along here she could pull off the road. “I know, I know.” She flicked a glance at the passenger seat. “I’m looking.”
A state forest picnic sign came into view ahead. All right! “Hold on, Trixie, we’re almost there.”
Her Jack Russell terrier whined, dark doggie eyes reproachful. Becca pulled her little red sportscar off the highway, jostled over ruts, and stopped next to a lone riverside table.
She let Trixie out of the car to take care of business and filled a portable water bowl. Her puppy ran over and drank while Becca watched the afternoon shadows creep up the wooded slope across the river. She checked the time. “Come on, Trixie, let’s go back to the car.”
The strains of a Broadway show song drifted from the car. Becca raced around the hood and grabbed her phone from her Chanel bag. A glance at the screen showed her older brother’s number. Why was Rob calling?
She smacked her forehead and then hit the answer icon. “Ohmigod, I totally forgot.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming?” Rob asked.
“Yeah, but can you hold on a second?” Becca held the phone to her chest and called Trixie away from a patch of weeds on the water’s edge. The river ran low, noisily frothing around mid-stream boulders, but the temperature would be freezing this late in December. “Let’s get you in the car, Trixie.”
She opened the passenger door and patted her thigh. The terrier jumped inside, and she closed the door. After tossing out the extra water, she set the empty water dish on the hood before lifting the phone. “Okay, Rob, I’m back. Where were we?”
Oh, right. She’d been supposed to go over to his place for dinner. “I really appreciate the invitation, and I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. Really. A problem came up, and I’m on my way to Angels Glen.”
Cold rose from the river a few feet away. Becca rubbed the sleeves of her cashmere sweater, casting a glance at the down vest in the car’s rear seat.
“You told me you never wanted to go back to Angels Glen.” The voices of children could be heard as her brother continued, “Is this to escape the reporters hanging around our office?”
“That’s a bonus.” One as important as doing a good job for her dad. The embezzlement trial of a colleague—colleague she’d hired—had been making the news. “The manager of the inn quit, and I volunteered to come down. Someone has to be there to entertain the VIP guests booked for Christmas.”
Silence.
“We only got word this morning, but Dad said he’d fill you in.” She chewed a fingernail. “I guess he hasn’t?”
Her brother said nothing.
“Rob?” She stamped her boots against the cold. “Are you still there?”
“Still here,” her brother said. “Dad hasn’t told me.”
“Well, now you know. I figured I should drive down early and get organized.” Who knew what she’d find when she arrived?
“I can’t believe you volunteered.”
She imagined her brother shaking his head. “I have to do something to show Dad he can trust me again. The company took a big financial hit that was my fault. But don’t worry. I’m off men.” She would definitely not be falling in love again any time soon.
Maybe forever. She had her dad and brother and sister-in-law—and her career. She crossed her fingers. “Speaking of Dad, I hope you’ve convinced him to stop by your place Christmas day.”
“He said he’d come, but he wants to finish up the preliminary meetings with the bankers first.”
Becca tugged at her sweater. Her father claimed he’d always intended to refinance the family hotel business, but her mistake had surely added pressure to do that sooner.
A car swished past on the highway, headlights probing the growing gloom. She grabbed the water dish and moved to the driver’s side. “Tell your adorable kids they will get to celebrate a second Christmas when Auntie Becca comes home. I have to hang up and get back on the road.”
“Be aware cellphone service is spotty back in the mountains, but our office has satellite internet. Contact me by email if you run into any problems.”
If she did, she would handle them on her own. How else would she prove herself capable and dependable?
“Say ‘hi’ to Alec for me.”
Becca froze. “Alec Stewart?” What was her brother’s best friend doing in Angels Glen? When her family had left town, Alec had headed to some Ivy League college on the East Coast. “Are you saying he lives in Angels Glen?”
“Last I heard,” Rob said.
“Thanks for the warning.” Her brother was obviously still in contact with Alec, but she personally hadn’t seen him in twelve years, hadn’t even wanted to know what he was doing. Or cared. He’d never missed a chance to point out her deficiencies when they’d been teens. She couldn’t imagine he’d changed that much, and meeting Alec again would be the cherry on top of this horrible week.
* * *
The next morning, Alec Stewart set his toolbox next to a stool. “Your plumbing works now. I also tightened up the kitchen faucet to cut off the drip.”
He braced himself on the mahogany bar the owner, Clyde Donovan, had kept when he’d converted the saloon to a restaurant. The building dated to the California Gold Rush days. Even with modernization, though, winter drafts kept the kitchen colder than the dining room. “It’s freezing back there.”
“You grew up here. You know what the weather is like in December.” Clyde lifted the coffee pot, and Alec nodded. The older man filled a white porcelain mug and slid the brew over before grabbing his money sleeve. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. I was glad to help. Flattered you let me take a look, in fact.” Alex sat, wrapping his hands around the warm porcelain. “I needed to get out of the house bad.”
“You spend too long in front of your computer. Not that I know what that’s like. I only check Tula’s laptop for the weather.” Clyde turned from the register, red and green lights flashing across his reading glasses from the bar’s Christmas decorations.
“I was helping out my old company.” When his dot-com startup had gone public, Alec had cashed in, set for life, but if the business had problems with the software he’d created, they knew he’d happily work remotely, especially during winter. Alec swept a hand over the top of the bar. “I like repairing things, too. Keeps me in touch with my ancestors.”
“Like your dad?”
Alec laughed. “Don’t ancestors have to be dead? I’m talking about my granddad. My father is still chasing the good life.”
In his dad’s view, that meant wine and women, especially younger women.
Clyde pointed to a bottle on the third shelf. “Next time you see him, tell him I’ve still got his favorite Scotch.”
“I doubt he’s coming back.” And good riddance. Alec had never been able to satisfy his father, no matter his accomplishments in sports or academics. Now, he wanted to enjoy his life and his friends without critical commentary.
“I see you decided not to go with Callie to visit him, but I personally wouldn’t mind lolling away the day on a warm beach.”
Alec inhaled the rich, dark coffee aroma and sipped. “Someone’s got to stick around to keep an eye on the store. I’m happy to stay right here. This is where I belong.”
Tula, Clyde’s daughter, appeared from the stockroom and set down a tray with refilled condiments for the tables. Named after Petula Clark, the 50s entertainer her mom had adored, Tula had been a year behind him in high school, but they’d become good friends since he’d moved home.
A box of shiny new padlocks was displayed on the counter in front of him. Years ago, in order to attract tourists, the mayor had advertised the town as the place where couples could guarantee their love would last forever by attaching a padlock to the old river bridge. Alec had always wanted to do that as a teenager, but he’d never found the right girl. “These are nice.” He fished one from the box and rubbed a thumb over the burnished finish. “This is brass?”
“Absolutely. Top quality.” Clyde looked up from an inventory list. “Cost me a pretty penny, but they sell well in the summer when we get tourists.”
“Let me have this one.” Alec handed over a bill large enough to cover the price marked on the carton. “Keep the change.”
Tula strolled over. “I knew you were holding out on us. Who’s your sweetheart?”
“Don’t have one.” He’d survived one trial by fire, and that was enough. “I want a shackle on the gate to keep my dog in the yard. But if you want my opinion, the idea of locking love is silly.”
“Methinks thou doth protest too much,” Tula said, showing off her college degree in English.
Alec held up his hands. “I’m telling it like it is, Petula Donovan. Love is overrated.”
Tula nudged him. “I saw Becca MacDonald near the gazebo when I was coming to work last night.”
Alec spun on his stool, his heart beating harder even as he forced himself to breathe deeply. “It must have been a mirage. Her brother told me she would never return.” In fact, Rob had also told him she’d requested he never even mention Alec’s name.
“A mirage doesn’t talk. She said she’s staying at her family’s new inn.” Tula crossed her arms and gave him a speculative look.
“Her family does own it now.” Alec rubbed his chin. “Did you know the manager who was working there up and quit? Left town already, too.”
“Maybe Becca’s going to run the place.” Tula shrugged. “It would be great to have her back.”
No! He didn’t want Rebecca MacDonald living right down the street. She tended to be disruptive, and he strived for calm, which he’d finally achieved. He slipped off the stool, stowed the padlock in his toolbox, and stepped out the back door, satellite phone in hand.
Rob MacDonald answered on the fifth ring. “Hey, bro. Long time no talk.”
The clatter and chatter of Rob’s family echoed over the connection, and Alec smiled. “Is that Taylor I hear? What’s her reading level like these days?”
“I don’t know. I read to her. She turns the pages and explains the pictures. Why? You want to stop by and take over?”
“Not right away, no.” Maybe someday, but not over Christmas, because the holiday was for families. “I’ve been doing some contract work for my old company.”
“Watch out, or you’ll be back in the rat race before you know it.”
“I’m done with that.” Alec opened his mouth to ask about Rebecca when Rob spoke.
“I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you. I need a favor.”
“You got a computer problem?” Rob had called him over the years with laptop issues.
“Not that I know of. My sister’s going to be in Angels Glen. I’d appreciate if you would keep an eye on her.”
Alec’s chest squeezed tight. As kids, he’d had a crush on Rebecca MacDonald forever, never following through because she was Rob’s kid sister. “I can try, but you think she’ll listen to someone like me?”
“That’s a yes?” Rob asked, laughing. “You’ll keep her out of trouble?”
Alec had planned to relax the next few weeks. But Rob had been his best friend since childhood, and he’d had years of practice keeping Becca out of trouble and at arm’s length. He still squelched a sigh. “Of course it’s a yes.”
“Great. She’s had a hard time lately, but I know you’ll handle her with kid gloves.”
Alec had always tried to do exactly that, even if Becca probably hadn’t thought so. He propped his hands on his hips and drummed his fingers on his belt. What exactly did “a hard time” mean? Was Becca sick? Wounded? Overworked?