Page 27 of Pursued

With my purse over my shoulder, I venture up to the large wraparound porch. A wooden welcome sign leans against the wall beside the large door with a pair of rockers to the left. I never stayed in a place like this, only saw them in movies. It’s strange to be walking into a home without knocking. Nothing about invading someone’s home feels right and my hands begin to sweat. I take a step back, not knowing what to do.

Before I can turn to retreat, the door opens and a tall woman greets me with a smile. Wearing a floral print apron, she has a smudge of flour on her cheek, and I instantly relax. She reminds me of my mom and the thought brings tears to my eyes.

“Oh honey, what happened? Was there road rage? Damn tourists. Not you of course. Come on in, I just made some cookies.”

I allow the woman to guide me into the house, her arm wrapped around my shoulders. My breath shudders a little as I swallow down my sadness. We walk through two rooms: a sitting area with a desk and a dining room. Releasing me, the woman steps through a swinging door and into a bright kitchen. The entire room is blanketed in natural sunlight. I spy a few racks with cookies on them on the large island and my stomach grumbles.

“Sorry,” I murmur sheepishly.

Because she’s kind, the woman doesn’t comment on the awkwardness. “Coffee? Tea? Milk?”

“Oh... uh, coffee would be great. Thank you. I’m sorry for my awkwardness. It was a long drive. I’m Sophia—”

“Maldonado. You’re my only reservation so not hard to figure out.”

Releasing a long breath, the tension in my shoulders loosens slightly. The only reservation. That means I won’t have to do small talk or try to produce some random story as to why I’m here. Alone.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably go to the market and get a few snacks and hole up in my room. Catch up on some sleep.”

A plate of cookies slides in front of me along with a mug and carafe of coffee. I fill the cup and add a little cream and sugar before lifting the cup to my lips. I can feel the woman’s eyes on me but don’t say anything. It’s awkward enough to show up and start crying before finding out I’m the only guest.

“Nonsense. You’re a guest. Make yourself at home. There’s plenty of food in the pantry and refrigerator. If you have any dietary restrictions, let me know and I’ll put in an order down the mountain. Our little market in town is more of fancy convenience store than a grocery store so I may not have what you need on hand but we’ll get it all squared away.”

“Oh, no dietary restrictions. I live off coffee and carbs for the most part.”

She laughs and I’m taken aback by the sound. It’s a little nasally with a snort every few seconds. “We’re going to get along just fine. Where are my manners? Goodness. My name is Joan Olson. I opened The Bluebird about twenty years ago. It’s not much but I love taking care of people. Plus, I grew up in this town and look forward to having new people to talk to. I’m a bit of an extrovert in case you hadn’t noticed. Other than Bobbi down at the diner, I don’t think anyone else in town talks as much as I do.”

While Joan fills me in on the comings and goings of Starlight Ridge, I sit quietly and enjoy my coffee and cookies. And, maybe for the first time in a long while, I forget all the reasons that brought me here to this kitchen.

Chapter 19

Gage

Bruce’s request has bounced around in my head the last two days and the only way to relieve the annoyance is to check on Sophia. I refuse to go out of my way to carry out the task, but since I have to head down the mountain for my therapy session, I need to check in with Joan for anything she may need for The Bluebird.

Killing the engine, I exit the car and move quickly up the porch steps before letting myself inside. Grabbing a peppermint candy from the dish on the front desk and popping it in my mouth, I follow the soft melodies of Fleetwood Mac to the kitchen. Joan is standing at the island, chopping onions.

“Hey, Joan.”

A huge smile greets me as she sniffles and wipes tears from her face. “Damn onions. Give me a second to finish with these.”

Joan and Bobbi were both quick to adopt me when I came to town. Neither will allow me to become a complete recluse, no matter how hard I try. It’s why I have breakfast at the diner each morning and do Joan’s grocery run once a week. If I keep in contact with both of them, they are happy.

“There. Goodness, those were powerful. Thank you again for picking up my order,” she says over her shoulder while washing her hands.

“Never a problem. I’m going to pick up a few things for myself as well. Looks like you have some guests. Do they need anything?”

Joan scrunches her eyebrows and nose while smiling. “Uh huh. I didn’t take you for a gossiper.”

“What? No way. I’m not—”

“Relax. I’m teasing you. Just one guest. It’s still a few weeks until the season kicks off. Poor thing has been mostly sleeping since she arrived. I did manage to drag her down for dinner last night even if she barely ate anything.”

If I had to guess, I’d say Sophia’s in an adrenaline crash. The first few weeks I was undercover, I was on an absurd high and only slept a few hours a night. My mind raced constantly as I ran through every move I made throughout the day and anticipated making the next. Our sergeant would find me sitting at the dining room most mornings, my eyes glued to the computer, reviewing case files.

“Traveling is exhausting. Well, if she needs anything, you can let me know and I’ll add it to my list. Recyclables out back?”

“Yep. Thanks again. What will I do when you leave us?”

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