Page 1 of Charlie Takes a Chance

CHAPTER 1

Charlie

Hellllloooo,frosty Oregon weather.

I immediately regret staying in my workout gear of shorts and tennis shoes, because when I step out of the car, I realize it’s freakin’ cold.Frostbite takes out your bare kneecaps,kind of cold.

My running shorts do nothing to protect my bare legs as I stand on the gravel drive and look around at the Pine Ridge ranch.

I turn around and grab my phone from the middle console of my car. It doesn’t light up even when I hit the side button.

Perfect. It’s dead. My car is so old that I need a special adapter to charge my phone. And I forgot it. I must have left it in my apartment after I’d cleaned out my car. It’s kind of a problem when it’s a three-hour drive.

Let’s hope I remember the key code for the house. Magnolia texted me a set of numbers for a keypad and then told me where a hide-a-key would be. I’m not sure why she would need to tell me both. Or was it a keycode for the lockbox to get into the house? And she said something about a bunkhouse?

I don’t quite remember the instructions, so it’s especially a bummer my phone isn’t charged.

I toss my phone back into the car and search my glove box for the small flashlight I keep there. I’d like to say it’s the first time I’ve needed my emergency flashlight—but I’d be lying.

“Confound it,” I mutter as I slam the glove compartment closed. I shove my way out of my Honda then open the trunk to pull out my big puffy coat. My sweater isn’t enough to keep me warm. The forecast said possible snow by the weekend. Fine by me. I don’t have any plans to leave by then.

This is a glorious working vacation—one where I enjoy the fresh eastern Oregon air, forget I ever dated someone named Bryce, and pretend like I can’t answer text messages. It will be a peaceful six weeks.

I zip my coat up as far as it goes and pull my hood on. My ears are turning into popsicles in this fresh mountain air. Is it thinner up here? Or am I just used to being in the city?

I walk down the gravel drive toward the big house. It’s a monstrosity—one of the biggest log cabins I’ve ever seen.

It looks cold and unwelcoming with only a dim porchlight on. It’s not what I pictured when Nash told me this place held a lot of fond memories. It’s practically a haunted mausoleum.

I’m here to change that. I’ve been hired to prepare the Pine Ridge Lodge for the holidays.

It’s still weird that my best friend—and ex-roommate, Magnolia, is about to marry Nash, but they seem to genuinely be happy together.

Nash hired me to prep his family’s home for the upcoming holidays. In his words, “Make sure everything is working and ready for Grandpa. Magnolia said you could do it.”

I’d reassured him that I could, in fact, do that. How hard could it be to fix a few minor things and clean the house? I toldhim I’d do him one better and have the house decorated for Christmas, too.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Besides, Magnolia seems genuinely happy with the guy and loves his grandpa like her own. Nash’s grandpa had a health scare earlier this year, so I know they want to make these holidays extra special. And I’m happy to get to make that a reality for them.

But as I stand there staring at the door I realize I’ve hit my first snag.

There’s no keypad on the door. That’s strange. Magnolia had definitely said something about a key code. Maybe that had to do with the alarm system. I punch the doorbell to see if it works. Nothing. It’s as silent as the night surrounding me.

Magnolia had given me instructions on where to find the spare key, and I remember them only vaguely. Too bad my phone’s dead or I would double-check those instructions. Turning around, I work my way down the sidewalk and check under rock after rock. The spare key ends up being under the brick at the turn in the walkway.

“Victory!” I return to the door and slide the key into the lock, turning it and unbolting it. I shove open the door and step inside.

It’s completely dark, and my flashlight is flickering like the house has the power to suck away any light.

That unreliable little flashlight doesn’t even give me the decency of a warning of what is to happen next. It isn’t even bright enough for me to see the shadow sneaking up behind me.

A bright light flashes behind me right before something large slams into my back, and I stumble forward into a hard surface. I’m pressed up against a door or a wall, but the scariest part is that something is holding me in place.

I scream and flail, but I don’t make any progress because my arms are flapping into the wall rather than whatever is holding me there. It’s large, I know that. “I don’t want to get eaten by a bear! I promise I don’t taste good! I’ll give you the jerky in my car!”

The pressure against my back eases up, and a paw grabs my shoulder. I turn to look into a bright headlamp. Safe to say, whatever is standing there isn’t a bear. It’s worse.

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