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I could see Chance's A-frame ahead. It was like a beacon drawing us to it. I was anxious to have a hot shower and then go to the hospital to see Tom. I was surprised, when Chance stopped. He pulled off his helmet, but left the engine running and didn't get off the snowmobile. "That's Roy's car at the house," he said. "Didn't expect he'd be waiting for us."
"Roy is the county sheriff," Jim explained. "I was hoping he'd give us a day or two."
"I'll push him to save the questioning until tomorrow at the police station. I'll tell him we haven't had much sleep and need to get showers and go to the hospital to see how Tom's doing," Chance said. "He should be OK with that."
We continued on to the house. We were unloading the gear onto the back deck when a middle-aged man in uniform walked around the house. "Hi, Chance. Glad you're home," he said, making his way to Chance and shaking hands. Then moving on to shake Jim's hand.
"I'm guessing you’re Harry's niece, Everly Mason."
"Yes sir."
"We just got back," Chance said. "Have you heard how Tom's doing?"
"They were doing surgery to remove the bullet, last I heard. I'm sure you probably want to head over there and check on him."
"Yep. Just going to unload, park the snowmobiles, grab hot showers and clean clothes, and head for the hospital," Chance said.
"I'm going to need statements from all of you."
"Sure, Roy," Jim said. "How about we meet at the station tomorrow say around eleven?"
"That'll work," Roy said and started toward his car. He turned back to us. "Ms. Mason, I knew your Uncle Harry. Never had any trouble with him. You've been in town a few months and you've already been involved in incidents that took out two of the best wilderness guys in this state."
I was tired and nervous and, as often happens with me, my mouth got away from me. "Are you accusing me of being some sort of wilderness femme fatale, Sheriff?"
"Not accusing you of anything, Ms. Mason. We'll talk more tomorrow."
I stood there with my hands fisted at my waist, while Jim and Chance continued to unload gear. Once the sheriff's car disappeared down the driveway, Chance walked over to me. "We're you trying to piss him off, City Girl?"
So now I was back to City Girl again. "I'm tired, hungry, dirty, upset, pissed, scared, and probably a bunch of other crap I can't even list. Sounded to me like he was thinking I was responsible for what happened to you and Tom."
"You did push me off a cliff," Chance pointed out.
"Tom was shot. I didn't shoot him." The tears came again. I ran into Chance's house, climbed the stairs, and locked myself in the master bath. I cried myself out sitting on the side of Chance's fancy tub. Since I was in the bathroom and no one seemed to care, I stripped down and got in the shower. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I dropped Chance's shampoo when the thought that I should leave a change of clothes and my own brand of shampoo and soap at Chance's crossed my mind. I was so not ready to even think about that. It wasn't that I was thinking about moving in or even staying over, but I seemed to end up here a lot. The warm water felt so good, I closed my eyes and tried to relax my muscles.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the linen closet. As I dried, I realized I've have to put my dirty clothes back on because I didn't have anything clean. What few extra clothes I had in my pack had been used to staunch the blood flow from Tom's shoulder. Fudge, that thought brought back the tears. This crying jag was shorter. Maybe that was a good sign. That's when it hit me. My pile of dirty clothes was gone. What the fudge? It had to be Chance. Jim wouldn't have walked in while I was in the shower. It had to be Chance, but I locked the door. If Chance came in while I was in the shower, I was surprised he didn't make some smart remark.
Thankful that Chance liked big towels, I wrapped one around me, checked to make sure that the important bits were covered, and walked out of the bathroom trying to act like it was no big deal.
Of course, I walked right into Jim. His arms came out to steady me. "Feel better?" he asked.
"Yeah. Looks like you got a shower too," I said, noticing his wet hair.
I followed Jim into the kitchen. "Feeling better, City Girl?" Chance asked, handing me a cup of Earl Grey tea just the way I like it. "I put your clothes in the laundry. If you're comfy like that, I'm not gonna complain, but I laid some sweats on the bed for you. They'll be too big but might keep you warmer than that towel until your clothes come out of the dryer." He bent down and brushed his lips across mine.
I'll admit I was attracted to Chance even when he was an ass, but dealing with sweet, thoughtful Chance was almost more than I could handle in my current emotional state. "Thanks. You might need to check the locks on your bathroom door. Seems like they don't work." I tossed that comment over my shoulder as I carried my mug of tea with me upstairs and got dressed in Chance's ridiculously large clothes. The bonus of having to roll the waist down and the sleeves and pant legs up multiple times, was that it was really warm. The tears threatened again, when I saw that he left out a pair of thick, woolly socks. When I realized I was sitting on Chance's bed holding the socks against my cheek, I knew I was having some kind of breakdown.