Snow Belle (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 1) Page 3

  “It means you’re not from around here, are you?” The man peeked from beneath the scarf.

  “No, sir.” She extended her right hand. “Haley Madison from Texas. Abilene was my last residence. I’m really, really sorry… um…?”

  “Ethan Winters. I’m on my way home to… well, the U.P.”

  “You…Pee? Not sure what that is, but if you need to stop, we’ll be at the clinic shortly.”

  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He seemed at a loss for words, and Haley feared he might have done damage to his brain. She pushed harder on the accelerator. Lady Blue gave a sputter and pop, then lurched forward.

  Finally, he busted out with a loud laugh before he clarified. “The Upper Peninsula. I’m a Yooper.” He released the scarf for a moment and held up his hand, palm toward her. He pointed to the area above his fingers. “You know, that bit of land above the glove.”

  “Ohhh, I get’cha.” Haley winked.

  Ethan blushed. She liked his blush but had no time for blushing boys. Gathering her wits, she focused on the snowy road ahead. “Don’t look as if they’ve shucked this part of the road yet.” She eased her foot off the gas. The hospital finally came into view through the cluster of pines lining the highway. Maybe he wasn’t in danger of hemorrhaging to death from the way he was grinning at her. He seemed fine. Or not ill. Though he was a fine specimen of a man.

  Now her cheeks burned hot.

  “I knowed there was land up above the mitten. Isn’t the mitten fittin’ for Michigan? It’s always so blasted chilly here, isn’t it?”

  His smile only widened. “Yes, it is. Can’t imagine what a southern belle like you is doing all the way up here. I’ll be wanting to hear that story soon as they bandage this cut. I’m sure it’s nothing but a bump.”

  “Can’t tell you enough how sorry I am, Mister. Really sorry.”

  “Ethan. And, please, it was an accident.” He leaned closer and her senses filled with his spicy cologne. Haley nearly melted right there in her seat. “Between you and me, I was looking at my phone and didn’t see you until the last moment. I’m the one who should apologize. I could have seriously harmed you.”

  “Actually, it was Papop’s doin’. His tinkering with machines. He tweaked the snow blower. I knew better than to kick it into high gear, but I was in a hurry. Blasted contraption got out of control.”

  He mouthed her words as if trying to work out what she said, which Haley found kind of rude. Or a symptom of his injury. Couldn’t he follow a normal conversation?

  Ethan sat back with a chuckle. His eye color reminded her of the storm clouds that often moved across the Texas plains. “Well, Haley, I’m fine. We’re blessed neither of us was harmed.” He pulled her scarf off his forehead. “Head wounds tend to bleed worse than they actually are. I’m sure a bandage will suffice. There really is no need to take me to a hospital.”

  She cringed at the red soaking through the gauzy material. “Don’t be silly. Besides, if I didn’t take you, Sheriff Boyd would have called out the fire truck and ambulance. At least he’ll take care of getting your car to a shop for us. I’m afraid the front was a bit smashed up.”

  Ethan groaned, sinking lower into the seat while he held the scarf to his face.

  See? Haley knew he was worse off than he was saying. She hit the gas, causing Lady Blue to fishtail as they neared the parking lot.

  “Oh hey!” He gripped the dashboard. “Easy there. You being a southern belle, I bet you don’t have much experience driving in snow. Better take it easy. How long have you been here, anyway?”

  “I’m no southern belle, pal. I was born here, too. Then my momma moved us down to Texas when I was but a young girl. I’ve been on ranches raising horses and cattle near all my life. And for your information, we do get snow there once in a while. Though everything shuts down till it clears out. Still—”

  Ethan held up a hand in surrender. “My apologies, ma’am.” He put on a mock southern drawl. His grin told her he was making fun of her dialect. “Just take it slow, okay? There’s no hurry. I’m fine. Which doesn’t sound like I can say the same for … my car.”

  Haley’s heart sank for him. Here he was, minding his own business, heading home for the holidays, and she blew his poor Yankee heart right off the road. “I’ll pay for all damages. Promise. Soon as I can, I’ll have your car fixed up like it was. An’ if you need a—” She knew she couldn’t afford a plane ticket or car rental fee. “—a bus ticket to get you home, I’ll get that done for ya.”

  She pulled up to the emergency entrance and eased into the closest parking spot. There were about ten other cars in the lot. Haley bet most belonged to the staff.

  Maybe she could go ahead and sell the old stove to the historical preservation lady who’d been hounding her about the house. Haley would sell her the house, too, to keep her from badgering, but the high-society nag had no intention of buying it herself.

  Before Ethan could answer, Haley jumped out of the car and ran toward the entrance, hoping to grab a wheelchair to take him in with. But the doctor was already outside, waiting with a chair and a cup of steamy coffee. “Sheriff Boyd called. Told me to keep an eye out for you, Miss Madison.”

  Of course he did. Haley led the doctor out to the truck, where the patient was already getting out on his own.

  “I’m fine,” Ethan protested as the doctor pushed him into the chair. “I don’t need all this fuss.”

  A nurse met them at the door with a clipboard, and started asking questions as they pushed him inside. The doctor finished off his drink. “Sheriff Boyd said to tell you to remain here. He has questions.”

  “But I got an appointment.” Haley checked the time on her phone and realized she’d already missed her appointment by over half an hour. Drat! Now she’d have to badger that awful secretary for another two weeks before getting a new one. Maybe she should just hurry over and sit in his office until Ol’ Dobson made time for her. Of course, she might be there all day, and she couldn’t very well leave Ethan in this mess she’d created.

  Before the doctor disappeared through the sliding door, he pointed toward the front desk. “There’s coffee and donuts at the check-in. Help yourself. Sheriff Boyd will be here shortly.”

  Her shoulders nearly slumped to her knees. Hopefully, the sheriff wouldn’t fine her for operating a snow-blower without proper training, or some fool trumped-up charge like that. The people here talked of hospitality and preserving all that’s good, but they sure took unkindly to any strangers who didn’t comply with their standards and expectations. If the town wasn’t named after her family, they’d probably have already hitched her out on her backside and told her good riddance.

  Haley found a seat in the waiting area. She couldn’t help that the folks of Madison Creek saw her as a burr in their backsides. She had her dream almost within grasp. Only thing stopping her was enough cash to get started. Something had to go, and that old house, despite any historical significance it might have, was a money drain. If Papop hadn’t let it go to pot… but then, he couldn’t help it. Haley slouched in the seat, pulled down by the weight of guilt with a side of hopelessness. She should have come sooner. If only Papop had been more honest about his condition.

  After a few minutes of sitting, her belly started to grumble reminding her that she’d not stopped to grab breakfast before rushing out this morning. She’d hoped to catch brunch at the deli after talking to Dobson.

  Just as the doctor said, a box of donuts sat on the counter next to the coffee pot. As she poured a cup of black sludge that reminded her of Texas oil, a high-pitched voice called her name; a voice she’d been avoiding ever since returning home.

  “Just the one I’ve been wanting to see. Did you change your number, dear? I can never get through to you when I call. And I’ve probably left twenty messages,” Karen Black-Borgman hollered from the hallway leading from the geriatric wing. The hospital was multi-functional, also working as a nursing home and exercise gym for those w
ho couldn’t afford to pay membership at the SlimWay Health and Weight-loss center.

  A badge dangled from the collar of her shirt stating she was president of the Daughters of the American Historical Preservation Society of Madison Creek. Her heels clicked like gunfire down the hallway as her red scarf billowed out behind her like a superhero’s cape.

  Haley spun around, the donut hanging from her mouth. She swallowed the gooey dough she’d bitten into, clearing her throat before croaking, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Black.” Or was it only Borgman now that Mr. Black had passed? “I’ve been busy packing up my grandparents’ belongings. There’s so much to go through, you know.”

  “Well, sure. Your grandfather, Charles Madison, God rest his soul, was born in that very house. His great-grandfather, Chesterfield Madison, who was your great-great-great-grandfather, built that house with his very own hands. I heard rumors that his old tools still hang in the shed. Am I correct?”

  Haley wondered how anyone could talk so rapid-fire fast that they ran all their words together. Didn’t she need to breathe?

  Mrs. Black-Borgman’s brows puckered a moment before she swiped a finger across the side of her mouth.

  Taking the silent cue, Haley swiped her mitten over the area Karen had indicated and came away with a smear of white powder. Drat. “Yes, ma’am. I believe my cousin Burt has dibs on them, though. He’s a carpenter and all. I just hope I’ll not see them on eBay a few months from now.” Burt might be a carpenter, but Haley doubted he’d find much use for a bunch of old handmade tools except for what price he might fetch for the lot of them. If it weren’t for the will, she might keep them herself, except things needed to go. As much as possible. Couldn’t fit everything into that old barn. At least, not till she could afford to get the needed repairs.

  Karen visibly shuddered. “Oh, good Lord, let’s hope not. The history behind those pieces. I believe Chesterfield Madison made those tools. Did you know that? I know your mother didn’t visit home much with you—”

  “We visited plenty of times.” Haley hated the woman’s condescending tone. She wasn’t sure she had the patience for one of Karen’s history lessons about the Madison clan today. If she knew so much, she needed to go teach a class of youngsters who had no choice but to listen to her drone on about this hick town’s glorious past. “Anyway, Mrs. Black, I came in with someone. I need to go check how he’s doing.”

  “Good Lord, I heard on the police scanner while I was driving here to visit my grandmother in the elderly ward.”

  Karen shook her head, causing her brunette bob to swoosh around her narrow face. How did she manage to have such flawless skin? Haley was sure she’d been driving over to Grand Rapids for Botox treatments. Doubtful she’d ever admit to such vanity. “I heard that some traveler went off the road right in front of your house. Something about a mishap with a snow blower? How awful. I do hope you’ll be more careful in the future. You know this is a tourist town, even in the winter, Haley Madison. We need to take care of our guest. As a southerner, I would have thought you’d show more hospitality.”

  “I brought him to the hospital. Said I’d pay to get his car fixed…. somehow.” She sipped the coffee, ignoring the burnt taste. “Hey, you still interested in that old stove?”

  Karen shifted her duffel-sized purse to her other shoulder. “No, dear. But I do need to discuss something with you.” Karen grasped Haley’s arm and pulled her over toward the waiting chairs. “Now, I understand that Mr. Charles’ medical bills ate up most of his funds. So I empathize with your dilemma, Haley, I do. However, that house is a historical artifact of this town’s heritage. I do not wish to see that lovely place torn down. Nor do the other council members. All our historical homes are what give Madison Creek its charm, and attract tourists, and keep our businesses thriving. Surely, dear, you understand our position.”

  Lovely place? Coffee seared up Haley’s nose when she gasped. Historical artifact, she could buy. But neither charming nor lovely described Papop’s old Victorian. Karen simply had no idea of the condition of that termite shack.

  The roof leaked along with the bathroom plumbing, which left stains across the ceiling. Half the electrical sockets no longer worked. Haley used the stairs with great trepidation and fear with each step on the creaky wood. Perhaps once, the Madison home was a sight to see, but not anymore. Same as the old barn sitting out on Papop’s secondary property, located between the road and the river. But she had plans for that barn. Something everyone would surely love once they saw the results. First, she had to find a way to fund her grand idea.

  “Mrs. Black, I have to sell. I can’t help that.”

  “But, dear, not to that slimy business conglomerate with their discount Lucky Dollar stores. No, it’ll ruin all we stand for. That eyesore will be the first thing visitors see when they drive in. Not to mention, it’ll threaten the income of our honest businesses here on the square. My dear, as President of DAPS, I simply can’t stand by and let you do this to our town.”

  “I’m not aiming to harm your town!” Haley stood, furious over the society snit’s accusations. This town wouldn’t be here if not for her family. “Look, I have no choice. They’ll pay. I’ve had no other offers. None.” She swiped her hands sideways in front of her to emphasize her point.

  “They’ll tear down that wonderful old Victorian…”

  “If it doesn’t collapse before they get here.” She stomped her foot. “This is the only solution. Papop named me as executor over all his property. He made a list of things he wants dispersed to some of the kin, but the rest needs to be sold. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  Karen Black-Borgman also stood, her hair falling into her scowling face like a theater curtain, shutting off every last bit of geniality. “Everyone has a choice, and you obviously are making the wrong one. I’m sure there are other options. Perhaps if you come to the next town meeting, we can see—”

  “See what? Nobody will work on the house for free. If y’all want to preserve it, then buy it from me. I’ve said all along I’d sell local before I sell to an outsider.” She pointed a finger in Karen’s reddening face. “But either way, I’m selling.”

  Karen’s mouth crumpled into a sneer. “Not if I can push through my petition to declare the Madison House as a historical site first. The papers have already been filed and the allotted time for objections has passed. Plus, I have most of the town backing me on this.”

  Haley caught sight of Ethan Winters strolling through the double doors with the doctor. Now that he’d been cleaned up, her breath caught. She blinked and quickly looked away. “Sorry Karen, but I can’t talk about this now.” What would it mean if she pushed her petition and got it approved? Could the town really stop the sale of her family home?

  Ethan headed to the reception desk. Haley glanced his way again. His long brown hair fell in his face as he filled out a stack of papers. She swallowed, hard. He caught sight of her gaping at him and winked.

  “You feeling all right, Miss Madison? You look flushed.” Karen’s voice broke her trance.

  “Yeh-yes, I’m good. Peachy.”

  Karen straightened her back, her expression returning to all business and finesse. “Very well, then. I suppose we’ll discuss this matter more fully come next Monday at the council meeting. They’ve agreed to adjust their agenda to hear my case. Good day.”

  Her heels clicked on the linoleum, reminding Haley of a hen’s claws clattering over the hard earth as they strutted around the pen.

  Good night, that didn’t sound promising at all. Haley tugged at her knit cap, wondering what on earth she’d do now.

  Chapter Three

  “Clean the wound and close it with a butterfly bandage,” the attending physician ordered the nurse before handing Ethan his card. “If you experience any dizziness or upset stomach, Mr. Winters, call my office. You’re not showing any signs of a concussion, so I’ll not trouble you with pointless scans unless some other condition presents itself. Do you have a rid
e home?”

  “I… uh….” There was Snowbelle, as Ethan had taken to calling her since she balked at being called a southern belle. Everything was happening so fast, his head actually spun a little. “Yes, I believe so. I’m only passing through town.”

  Dr. Daniels blew out a long breath as he checked the chart once more. “I’ll discourage you from attempting to drive today. We have a Lazy-Inn Motel, which I’m sure has available rooms. Or maybe you have friends in the area, since you’re not from here. It’s not like we’re a gas stop off the highway, you know. Especially this time of year.”

  “Yes sir, I noticed that after the first few miles.” Once the nurse finished bandaging Ethan’s forehead, he slid off the table. The paper crinkled like firecrackers in his aching head. He hoped the painkillers they’d given him when he’d first arrived would hurry and kick in.

  “Doubtful I’ll be on the road anytime soon.” Ethan tucked the doctor’s card into his shirt pocket. “I have to see what damages my car suffered first.” He hoped the tree hadn’t totaled it. After all he’d gone through to keep his baby, he wasn’t sure he could handle if the damages were beyond repair. When he stood, his head and stomach churned and he grasped the edge of the bed for support, but tried not to be obvious about it. He was sure his injury wasn’t anything other than a bad bump and didn’t want to give Dr. Daniels an excuse to order those scans, after all. No, he only needed to get out of there, get a bite to eat, and figure out how to get back on the road.

  After leaving California, Ethan had meticulously budgeted his funds for gas stops and food and only had maybe four twenties left in his wallet. If he had to stay at a motel until the car was fixed, he’d need to dip into his savings. Dad would insist on paying for a ticket home, but Ethan had determined he’d not ask his parents for any more funds. That was one area where he did need to man up, as his father suggested.

  And he’d not leave the Camaro.