Page 8 of Joy to Noel
Clark grunts. “Beau did move back to Noel specifically to work at the factory. I wouldn’t want to see it shut down due to mismanagement. He’d be back in the same position he was in when they moved away from Noel after the meat-packing plant closed. But I’m not sure if the bigwigs at corporate companies ever hire internally at small-town plants or if they always insert their own lackeys.”
“Cynical much?” I ask Clark, quirking an eyebrow.
“Well, I think it could happen,” Clara declares. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you unpacked, Mads.”
It takes all of five minutes to unload my car, and then Clark starts carrying loads of firewood from the main rack to the small one at the side of my cabin. Clara helps me unpack clothes into the dresser and onto the hanging rod next to the bed. “Ooo, where did you find this dress?” she asks, holding up a coral mini dress with an A-line flared skirt. “Let me guess, thrifting?”
“Ding, ding, ding!” I say as I zip up my suitcase and store it under the full-sized bed. “I don’t suppose there are many thrift stores in Noel, huh?”
“Certainly not of the caliber you’re used to finding in KC,” Clara admits. “There’s one place on Main Street that accepts and sells second-hand clothing, but you’d have better luck driving over to Bentonville.”
The possibility of exploring wholly new-to-me thrift stores sparks excitement in the core of my being. The “Queen of Thrifting” title bestowed upon me by my friends was a hard-earned recognition. People who don’t know me well sometimes make the mistake of asking about my thrifting “hobby,” only to hear a passionate spiel about the effects of consumerism on the environment. Purchasing second-hand items whenever possible seems to be the onlyreasonabledecision. A choice so obvious, I never understand why people need so much convincing.
Now that everything is unpacked, I look around the small interior of the cabin. The kitchenette has a small fridge, a sink, a microwave, and a single burner hot plate. A tiny table with two chairs is tucked next to the kitchen cabinets, and there’s a cozy bench seat with throw pillows by the door. It will be the perfect place to sit and read when the weather is nice enough to leave the door open.
As much as I hate to admit it, the lingering Christmas decorations do add a touch of magic to the space. I remember helping Sydney find some of these decorations at thrift stores in KC to prepare for the first-ever Christmas Fest. The theme of this particular cabin is one of the more whimsical twists on traditional Christmas decor, which is why I picked it as my hotel room during the wedding week. Tiny white twinkle lights are tacked along the wooden beams of the ceiling, accentuating the simple architecture of the cabin. Syd really does have an eye for design.
I love the natural twigs and the sprigs of faux silver berries mixed in with more traditional Christmas greenery, which is hung with restraint around the space. The tiny flocked tree has a mix of silver, navy, and bright pink ornaments along with white lights. I remember how cozy the cabin felt lit by only the Christmas tree, and I’m grateful to have a best friend who knew what I might need even better than I did.
Clara claps her hands, jolting me out of my reverie. “What do you think? Come to dinner at the Deer River Bar with us? Maybe you can help me convince Ben to do the Christmas pop-up idea this year,” Clara says with a devilish grin.
Giving her a mini-salute, I say, “Lemme at ’im.”
Chapter five
Liam
There’s not a trace of the sun left by the time I pull into Noel. Although I got up to leave Houston at 6:00 a.m. and made all of my stops efficient, the nine-hour drive was lengthened by frequent road construction. The only bright spot of the long trip was the fact that I made it through an entire audiobook about business optimization.
Hamlet glared at me from the passenger seat for the whole drive. He’d occasionally sniff around the vehicle after using the portable litter box on the floor of the backseat, but the familiar surroundings bored him quickly. Then, it was back to his disapproving stare. We’ve done enough of these road trips, though, that I’m immune to his expressions of displeasure.
As I pull up to the address Angie supplied, I’m shocked to find not one butmanycabins in two rows. “What in the . . . ?” I wonder aloud, drawing Hamlet’s attention. He perks up and props two paws on the window to investigate.
I open Angie’s email about housing to read the entire thing. When she initially sent it, I simply copied the address into the Yukon’s GPS. Angie did spell out the fact that this is a tiny cabin on a campground with multiple units rented by tourists during the summer float season. There’s a note that she requested the largest unit, along with the cabin number and instructions to find the key under the doormat upon arrival.
Small towns. Of course, the key is under the mat, available to anyone.
Closing my eyes, I blow out a calculated breath.You can do this, Liam. You’re going to fix this as quickly as possible, and then you’re going to get out.
My cabin number is easy to find, considering it’s the only one with the porch light turned on. Parking in the designated spot to the side of the cabin, I step out of my car and stretch. As I do so, I notice a soft glow of light inside the cabin directly across from mine. When my gaze catches on the small front window, a shadow ducks out of sight.
The rest of the cabins appear empty, which makes sense for the beginning of March. Even in the milder climate of the South, it’s not exactly river tourism season. At least, I wouldn’t want to live next to any tourists crazy enough to float the river at this time of year.
I hear an irritatedmeowfrom Hamlet and turn to see him glaring at me from the driver’s seat. Scooping him into my arms, I say, “Let’s check out the new digs. Don’t expect to be impressed.”
Unlocking the cabin, I push the door open and peruse the space. It’s all open concept with a small kitchenette and a bathroom door along one wall and a full-sized bed at the back of the room. The whitewashed walls are accentuated by a black metal spiral staircase that leads to a loft overhead. I assume there’s another bed or two up there that could house kids if a family was staying here. The interior is clean and modern—not what I was expecting from a river cabin in small-town Arkansas.
Hamlet breaks out of my arms and begins a thorough sniffing of our new temporary home. He meows and looks over at me pointedly. Shrugging my shoulders, I admit, “You’re right. It’s not so bad.” He continues his inspection of every square inch while I read the welcome card with notes about amenities left on the counter. On the plus side, there’s Wi-Fi at the cabin. On the negative side, I’ll have to use the laundromat in town since there’s no washer and dryer.What are the odds of them having a decent dry cleaner here?I wonder.
I make quick work of hauling my suitcases and garment bags in from the SUV before locking it behind me. Maybe the cabin owners feel secure leaving their property unlocked, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to.
Unpacking doesn’t take long, although I have to carry some of my suits to the loft since the hanging rod by the main bed isn’t very large. I pour some food and water into Hamlet’s dishes before setting up a small litter box in the bathroom.
Although I’m exhausted from a full day of travel, I’m also wide awake. Taking a seat at the small dining table, I pull out my notes on the factory, reviewing the list of key employees I’ll prioritize speaking with after an all-hands meeting Monday morning. The faster I can assess the current state of the plant, the faster I can figure out how to fix it. And the sooner it’s fixed, the sooner I get the heck out of Arkansas.
I wake early after a solid first night’s sleep at the cabin. I have to admit—the bed was far more comfortable than I'd expected. The modern furnishings appear to have been upgraded fairly recently, so I can’t really complain about this living situation. Hamlet is going to get incredibly bored being cooped up in such a small space, but he’ll have to deal with it since he’s a strictly indoor cat.
Never, ever would I recover if he got lost outdoors and something happened to him.
