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It had turned cold and snow was in the forecast, so after breakfast, I dressed in multiple layers and headed out to the Quonset. I planned to spend the day checking every possible hiding place in Harry's lab. I wasn't sure if the Quonset had heat or not, but it always seemed cold out there to me. With a to-go cup of Earl Grey in hand, I made a quick stop in the cafe to let them know I'd be working out back if anyone needed me.
I wanted to take a systematic approach, but I wasn't sure where to start. After walking around sipping my tea for a while, I decided to start with one of the smaller side walls. Following a bottom up approach, I swept the floor in the area, crawled under the table, checked the sides of the file cabinet and the back of the table. I checked the sides and bottom of each file cabinet drawer as well as leafing through each file. If I found anything that look different or out of place, I'd check it out more closely. I worked my way up to the top of the table and top of the cabinet that was against that wall.
I went out to the garage part of the building in search of a flashlight and realized I probably needed to search that part too. A large metal flashlight was laying amongst the tools. After testing it to make sure it was working, I headed back into the lab, closing the interior door behind me in hopes of keeping in any heat. Using the flashlight, I examined the wall and the ceiling over the section I'd been searching. I wasn't sure what I was searching for, but I'd know it when I saw it. Nothing is what I saw. When I took a step back to look at the wall from another perspective, I thought I heard a noise outside. The music I turned on to keep me company made it hard to be sure. I lowered the volume but heard nothing.
I was just about to go to the cafe for a tea refill before starting on wall number two, when there was more noise. If someone was looking for me, they'd call out. I hid behind the door, grabbing the flashlight on my way passed the table.
Someone was definitely in the Quonset. It could be an animal like a dog or cat or something that just wandered in, but I was sure I closed the outside door. I thought about texting Rick for help, but I didn't want to put down my only weapon—the flashlight, to text on my phone. Maybe all the security concerns the guys kept harping on were starting to take root in my brain. The door opened, and someone walked in. It was a big guy. I swung the flashlight and connected with a massive shoulder.
"Dammit, City Girl. Are you trying to kill me?"
"Oh, God. Chance. I'm sorry. Why didn't you holler at me? Did I hurt you?"
He took the flashlight out of my hand. "Normally, I'd applaud your resourcefulness, but damn that hurt."
"Do you need medical attention? I didn't mean to hurt you. You have to know that. I just..."
I dissolved into tears. Chance pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm fine, Everly. I'll probably have a nice bruise, but nothing's broken. How can such a little thing pack such a wallop?"
He held me until my tears subsided. I couldn't figure out why I kept hurting these guys. I had never had this problem before moving to Wilkins’ Gap. Once I found a box of tissues and wiped my eyes, I said, "OK. Take off your shirt so I can check out the damage."
"Really. Were you trying to beat me into submission?"
"Don't toy with me, Chance. I'm not in the mood."
"You've made that abundantly clear." He took off his flannel shirt and the thermal underneath. I really should have known better. I've seen Chance's chest before. It really is like looking at a Greek sculpture, but with hot skin instead of cold marble. Hot. Definitely hot. His bigfoot tattoo drew my eye, and I stood mesmerized.
"City Girl, this is where you hit me," he said, drawing my attention to his right bicep.
"Yeah. Sorry," I said, shaking my head so I could pull my gaze away and refocus on Chance's shoulder. There was definitely a red mark. "I'll go into the cafe and get you an icepack," scurrying out the door before I said or did something even more embarrassing.
"I need an ice pack," I said, when I walked up to the counter.
"What happened, hon? Did you hurt yourself again?" Rita asked.
"No. I hit Chance with a flashlight, but don't tell anyone," I said. The story of my pushing him off a cliff had taken on a life of its own in the Wilkins’ Gap rumor mill.
"Do I want to know why you clobbered him? Did he get fresh with you? Doesn't he know you're dating Tom?"
"He didn't do anything. As usual, it was my fault."