Snow Belle (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 1) Page 4

  No, better to call his banker friend, Blake, and cash in one of his savings deposits.

  Pushing away from the bed, so he stood on his own, Ethan held out his arms. “I feel fine, aside from a slight headache.” Once his nerves settled, he was sure his head and stomach would follow.

  Dr. Daniels scratched at his temple with the tip of his pen. “Very well. I can prescribe painkillers, but something over the counter will work.”

  “I’m sure that’ll be enough. Really, the seatbelt kept me from hitting too hard.” He edged toward the door. “Clear to go now?”

  “Sure.” The doctor gave a slow nod. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

  Ethan rushed out, stopping at the front desk to sign the discharge papers and make arrangements for the copay. Hopefully, the snowbelle hadn’t left him. He needed to find out where they’d taken his car, and figure out how to get it fixed. Please let it be fixable.

  While Ethan waited for the nurse to print his papers, he caught sight of the blonde beauty with the amazing accent. His breath caught at the sight of her. The snow had melted, leaving her honey-colored hair hanging in damp curls around her pinched brows.

  The taller, brunette woman she spoke to seemed put out for some reason. Ethan fought the urge to hurry over to stand in Snowbelle’s defense.

  He quickly turned back to the nurse’s station, having enough problems of his own, and was met with by a scowling, red-faced nurse. She thrust the clipboard at him and told him where to sign.

  The brunette woman finally called Snowbelle by name, refreshing Ethan’s memory. Haley Madison, though he thought his nickname seemed to fit her better. He couldn’t help but grin. Haley’s bottom lip puckered out in a delightful way, but it was her intense blue eyes that sank their hooks into him.

  When she glanced his way, he gave her a wink, hoping to offer a bit of encouragement. She looked like someone who’d lost their most cherished possession in the world.

  The older woman’s sharp tone sent a shock wave down Ethan’s spine. After taking all the forms from the nurse, he stuffed them in his back pocket and started toward the two women despite knowing their discussion was none of his business.

  Haley squared her shoulders as he approached. The other woman clomped out the sliding doors, letting in a frigid breeze.

  “Everything okay?” He offered her the bag they’d stuffed her bloody scarf into.

  She ignored his question and returned one of her own. “You all fixed up?”

  Her amusing accent caused his lips to twitch in a grin. Where had she said she was from? Texas, that’s right. “Fit as a fiddle, ma’am.”

  She rolled her eyes, not amused at his teasing. Perhaps he should ease up until they got to know each other better.

  Wow, where did that come from? Why in the world would she want to get to know him better? Besides, he wasn’t staying. Soon as the car was fixed, he’d be driving off into the sunset. Or sunrise. Whichever. “I don’t suppose you know what’s happened to my car?”

  “Oh, yeah, Sheriff Boyd’s having it towed to the shop. I’ll take you over there if you’re up for it.”

  “I’m fine. Just a little bump.” He touched the bandage on his tender head. He bet there’d be a nice bruise forming in the next day or two. “Can I also bother you for a ride to the hotel? Looks like I’ll be grounded here—”

  “Gawd almighty.” Her exclamation startled him, but he quickly recovered. She shoved her hands into her mittens. “You don’t want to stay at the Bates Motel. Trust me. I’ve heard a rumor that they have those bedbugs.”

  She took the zip-lock bag from him and rushed through the sliding doors. “Look, this is all my fault. That dumb snow-blower got away from me. I take full responsibility. I’ll get your car fixed.” She stomped across the parking lot, her boots clomping over the snow-dusted concrete. “Soon as I can get the money.”

  Ethan followed, grinning at her dark-red boots. The accident was just as much his fault as hers, didn’t she understand that? “Look, I can’t possibly let you pa—”

  “I’ll make arrangements with the Beetle brothers,” she said over her shoulder, cutting off his protest. “Don’t you worry one bit. We’ll get you back on the road quick as a roadrunner with a coyote nipping at its tail feathers. I promise.”

  Oh, but she was simply delightful, from her tousled hair all the way down to her jeans tucked into those western boots. Ethan didn’t need her to take responsibility, but he didn’t see the need to tell her so soon. Maybe in a while, after she let him treat her to lunch.

  Haley prattled on as she climbed into the massive truck, much too large for such a dainty lady, though Ethan figured her petite build was nothing more than a ruse. Beneath all those bouncy curls and pink lips was one heck of a spitfire. He just knew it.

  “I insist you stay at the house,” she went on, buckling herself in. Ethan not only buckled himself in, he made sure to tighten the belt as far as it’d go.

  “The ol’ house isn’t much, but there’s comfortable beds upstairs. And I’ll make sure you have meals. No need for you to go in debt.”

  “Will your … uh … grandfather be alright with me—?”

  “He’s gone. It’s just me and Wally my dog. We hardly ever stay there. I have my horses over at the barn across the road. I’ve been staying there most nights.”

  “Horses, too?” His grin widened more; this just got better and better.

  Her lips pressed into a tight line as she cranked the engine. “Molly and Cress. I’ll have to stop at the barn and let my animals out before I take you to the house. After we check on your car.” Then she muttered something else that Ethan didn’t totally hear. But he was sure she’d mentioned something about sell and cash.

  He sat silently in the seat and let her ramble on. She was so full of words and spark. Maybe eventually she’d tire out. One thing he knew, he’d not allow her to be inconvenienced if he did have to stay.

  Ethan was sure that by the time they reached the mechanic’s garage that his fingers must have left indents in the dashboard. Haley’s truck pitched and swerved as she tried maneuvering over the slick roads. He kept warning her to not hit the brakes. She’d mumble what he was sure were derogatory grumbles about Yankee driving, then hit the brakes anyway.

  “Cain’t help it. How else do y’all stop?”

  “I can drive. I’m used to this weather.” Though he missed the sunny warmth of California, he’d also missed seeing the actual sky instead of that haziness that seemed to hang over the area.

  “You got a lump on your noggin. You don’t need to be driving. I promised to take care of you, and I will.” She leaned forward and wiped her glove over the fogging window. “My heater isn’t the greatest. Never needed it before now.”

  Ethan rubbed his hands over his face, unable to watch anymore until she finally exclaimed, “There it is! And there’s your poor car, still on the tow-truck.” Under her breath, she added, “I don’t see the sheriff. Good.”

  Was she in some kind of trouble with the law? Maybe he should reconsider staying at what she’d called the ‘Bates Motel.’

  The truck slid to a halt beside the curb, next to an antique shop. Haley chewed her bottom lip in contemplation and stared across the street at the garage. As her hand reached for the door latch, she glanced past him toward the shop where small twinkling lights lit up the windows filled with an assortment of yard sale junk.

  “Let’s go check on your car first. If there’s stuff you need to get out of it, just set it in Lady Blue’s bed. I’ll need to stop in the antique shop a moment, then we’ll make arrangements to get your car fixed.”

  Lady Blue? Who—

  “Listen,” Ethan started to say, but she was already out of the truck and jogging across the street. He blew out a long breath, then followed her.

  She winced at the sight of the damaged Camaro while Ethan’s stomach plummeted to his shoes. The whole front panel was bent in and he feared there might be damage to the tire a
s well. Leaning over to peer into the well, his head gave a sickening tilt and he almost lost last night’s dinner, or what remained of it. He was able to get a good enough look to see he might need to replace the suspension system. He groaned, slowly rising. Yes, he’d need to cash in some funds and hope Dad didn’t find out anytime soon.

  Haley disappeared inside and marched over to a man wearing greasy coveralls. The way he kept looking at her sent an unpleasant prickling sensation through Ethan’s chest. He shook off the annoyance and hurried around to the driver’s door to retrieve his phone.

  After searching a couple of minutes, he found it under the passenger seat. Hitting the power button, he grabbed his jacket and crawled back out. The garage stalls each had a car parked inside. How long would it take to get back on the road? A week? Maybe more. Not that he resented the delay in returning home too much, but the possible costs troubled him.

  He’d sell the car before he’d ask for any more money from his parents. And he had no intention of selling the Camaro. He glanced up at the brilliant blue sky. The bright sun was already sending the temperatures up and melting the white covering. “Could use a bit of favor here. Direction? Help most certainly. Please?”

  “You the owner?” asked a gruff voice. A middle-aged man, with thinning hair swept across his sweaty scalp, stood behind Ethan. He scribbled some notes on a small pad. His shirt front seemed stretched to its limit over his round belly. He smiled, causing his thick mustache to swell like an accordion.

  “Yes, sir. Ethan Winters.” He extended the hand that wasn’t gripping the phone, which beeped with a new set of messages.

  “Sheriff Taylor Boyd.” He flipped his notepad shut. “Miss Madison said you were injured in the accident. I had instructed her to wait until we arrived, but as usual she seems to have disregarded my advice.”

  Miss? Then that mean she wasn’t married. He forced back a grin.

  “No problem, Sheriff. I just bumped my head. She’s taken rather good care of me.” Ethan looked around, but no longer saw her in the garage with the mechanic.

  “Well, good. I still want to have a word with her. I need you to sign this form, indicating what you wish to have done with your vehicle. I made an assumption you’d want it brought to the shop, but, if not, we can make other arrangements.”

  Ethan slipped on his jacket and zipped it up against the cold. Casually, he slid the phone into the pocket; guilt over having used it moments before the accident hung around his neck like a noose. More than likely, this was all his fault, despite the white-out Haley had caused with her rogue snow-blower.

  “I’d like to get it repaired, sir. If I need to make other arrangements, I’ll take care of that. I appreciate you bringing the car here for me.”

  Sheriff Boyd gave a nod. “You’re not local. I know just about everyone in Madison Creek. Are you visiting family or friends for the holiday?”

  “No, sir. I was stopping in for some gas and a decent lunch. I couldn’t tolerate another greasy meal.”

  “You picked a right nice town to stop in if I do say so myself.” The sheriff patted at his stomach. “Mallory’s Diner is Madison Creek’s main venue for a home-cooked meal. Otherwise there’s the White Castle down at the end of Main Street here.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a gray-colored card. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  Ethan added the card to his growing stash, wondering if the most thriving business in the little town was the print shop.

  Sheriff Boyd extended his hand and they shook. “Well, I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Mr. Winters. I’ll have that word with Miss Madison, then be on my way.” He set his hat back on his head with a quick tip and nod, then ambled toward the garage.

  A movement by the tow-truck caught Ethan’s attention as he spotted Miss Madison sneaking around the front. She drew up to a stop, guilt widening her blue eyes which darted towards the shop, then back to him.

  “All taken care of,” she said in a whispery voice. “Bill promised to get right on it for you. I… uh… just need to take care of something first. I’ll be—” She ducked down behind the tow-truck as the sheriff passed on the other side before entering the garage. “— back in a jiffy.” With one more glance over the tow-bar, she ran across the street and into the antique shop.

  Ethan stared after her, mouth hanging open. Was she deliberately trying to avoid the sheriff? His phone beeped, reminding him of the calls he needed to make. Hitting the ignore button, he scrolled through his contacts until Blake’s name appeared. Blake Morris had opted to stay close to home after graduation and took a banking job while the rest of their gang scattered with the four winds across the states.

  Though Ethan didn’t mind his hometown outside of Marquette, he’d hoped that the Lord would open some door, or a window, for him to earn a living playing his violin. On the way home from California, he’d made a couple of stops to check on leads, but nothing came of his side trips. He wasn’t quite ready to give in, though. The Lord couldn’t have blessed him with this talent, just for it to be wasted at Dad’s meat processing plant.

  When Blake’s receptionist answered, Ethan identified himself and waited for her to connect to his office.

  “Eth, is it really you? Heard a rumor you were coming home. Hollywood’s not all it was cut out to be?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Ethan tapped the toe of his oxford in frustration. That’s what everyone was going to say. They’d all think he was just a big failure. A worthless dreamer.

  Blake chuckled and Ethan heard the sound of his pen clicking. “I thought for sure you’d get past the second round of auditions, buddy. Guess they don’t know talent when they see it.”

  Ethan sighed out a puff of breath, not wanting to go into the real reason he’d had to abandon the try-outs. “We were up against a lot of talent, Blake. There’s always next year. Anyway, I’m only returning for a short visit. Not staying for good.” What was he going on about? There was nowhere else to go. Especially since it seemed the orchestra in New York would never call.

  Regardless, the thought of Dad with all his grand plans for his life made Ethan’s skin crawl and his feet itch to run away again as fast as possible.

  Ethan quickly told his friend what he needed, and heard the tapping of a keyboard before Blake assured him the transfer would go through in the next couple of days.

  “Say, let’s get together for lunch after the holidays. You’ll be home for Thanksgiving, right? Or better yet, I’ll have Allie fix us up a meal. Her sister has been staying with us. I think you’d like—”

  “Sounds like fun, Blake.” Not! “I’ll give you a call when I get there.” Ethan bid him a quick good-bye and shut down the phone again, telling himself it was to save the battery. His stomach rumbled. Before he went one more place, he needed to eat. Maybe a bit of food and a chance to sit down would calm his turbulent mood. He needed a chance to sit somewhere quiet and figure out what to do next—sell his most favorite possession and use the money for a ticket home? Or wait for the repairs and return home when it was done?

  Ethan glanced across the road at the antique shop. Even through the twinkling lighted window, he spotted Haley at the counter. What was this “accident” costing her?

  Ethan sighed and began gathering his luggage and violin case from the trunk. Thank goodness nothing had been damaged. He looked around at the shops and businesses, knowing this town had no use for a violinist, either.

  God, what in Heaven’s name is going on here?

  He’d asked for a door to open, not for the road to split into a four pronged fork.

  Chapter Four

  Haley wished the Yankee would stop grinning at her. He had a nice smile, and his dazzling gray eyes were simply amazing, but she didn’t appreciate him constantly chuckling as if she were a comic strip joke.

  She left Ethan to whimper over the damaged front panel and headed into Benton’s Auto Shop to speak with Bill or Bob, whom she referred to as the Beetle B
rothers. Bill Benton had been trying to ask her on a date since she returned a few months ago. But Haley had no time and no inclination to date anyone. After Richard broke their engagement a week before the wedding, she’d decided enough was enough. Time for Haley Madison to stand on her own two feet and make a real life for herself. And that’s what she intended to do.

  “Hey,” Haley called to the nearest mechanic, trying to talk over the roaring engines. “Where’s—”

  “Right here, Haley Belle.” Bill sauntered out of his office, wiping his blackened hands on one of them red rags. Tall and lanky, Bill had a light goatee and light brown hair, usually caked with grease, though he was handsome when cleaned up. He smelled of oil and the kerosene he used to make his own hand-cleaner.

  Haley hated being called by her middle name, which was actually Isabelle, though everyone took a notion to shorten it. She would rather talk to Bill’s brother, Bob who already had a girlfriend, but she didn’t see him anywhere around.

  “Haley Belle, what a surprise to see you here. Having problems with that old truck? I’d buy it from you if you’re looking to get something newer.”

  Her mittens shot to her hip. “Sell Lady Blue? Did you drop a wrench on your head, Bill? Actually, I’m here about the Camaro. I’m gonna pay to have it fixed. Can you get right on it?” She waved toward the tow-truck parked beside the curb.

  “Oh sure, but…” Bill rubbed the rag along the back of his neck. “We’ll have to order some parts. I’ve not really had time to look at it, but I’m going to take a stab at guessing a week at least for Camaro parts to be shipped here.” He folded his arms across his chest and bounced on the heels of his feet. “And how do you figure to pay for it? Even from here I can see it’s going to cost a bundle to replace that front panel and whatever damage that’s been done underneath.” His mischievous brown eyes narrowed on her. “Not to mention my time.”

  Haley met Bill’s cocked-brow stare. Of course he and everyone knew she had no money. But soon as she sold the house, that story would make a quick U-turn. Besides, there were a few things she planned to sell on the side. Things that were not going to relatives.