Out of the Storm (Buckhorn, Montana #1) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,105

Lindsey, the pregnant waitress at the café, had had a baby girl. She’d named her Kate. Fred’s son Tyrell got in trouble with the law. Nothing new there, according to Earl Ray.

The big news was that Anna Crenshaw’s granddaughter, Casey, was returning to town and would be opening up the old hotel on the edge of town. The Crenshaw Hotel had been closed for two years, ever since Anna had died. It had been years since anyone had seen Casey Crenshaw. Everyone was anxious to see if the now grown woman was anything like her grandmother. Rumor was that she was only opening the hotel to put it up for sale. “The place is said to be haunted, has been for years.”

Kate had laughed. “Like you believe in ghosts.”

“You might be surprised what I’ve come to believe in,” he’d said. “Tell me about you.” Kate told him about the latest book she was ghostwriting and about her gardening. She’d discovered that she enjoyed digging in the dirt, but her favorite part was watching what she’d planted bloom.

He always asked about her work and how the girls were doing when he called. The book was done. She was considering another one but hadn’t committed yet. Danielle had graduated college and would be teaching elementary school in the fall in a small town in East Texas. Mia’s design business was going great guns, and she’d met a man. “Do you like him?” Earl Ray asked.

“He’s nice. I think her father would approve.”

He never asked how long Kate planned to wait for the love of her life to return to her. He didn’t have to. He knew. Until forever.

“Tell Bessie hello for me,” she said as their conversation waned. “Tell her I miss her corn bread and ham and bean soup.”

“I’ll do that. You take care of yourself, Kate.”

“You, too, Earl Ray.” Pocketing her phone, Kate went back to her gardening.

* * *

HIS NAME WAS now Nicholas Ross. He didn’t recognize himself when he looked in a mirror. Often when he was shaving, he would stop and stare into the brown eyes looking back at him. They seemed to be the only thing that hadn’t changed about him.

For years he’d lived with the scars. But now the ones on the outside were gone, thanks to the surgeons who’d put him back together. He no longer had the limp, either, after surgery on his leg. Even his voice had changed after more surgeries on his throat and face. It had taken months and months, but he was a new person—completely unrecognizable to himself or to anyone else from the man he’d been.

He had to admit, even the scars on the inside seemed to have healed. For all these long, painful months, Earl Ray had been calling him. Each time, he would ask his old friend to tell him about Katie. He loved hearing the stories. Some he thought he could remember. Some of his memory about what had happened had come back. The rest was a muddle of darkness. Except for his nightmares, which were filled with explosions and fire and pain.

But the nightmares had become fewer and farther between. He had been working out every other day, running on the days in between. After months of physicians and surgeries, he felt like a new man. He’d been put back together better than he’d ever been. Now he’d finally been told he was ready.

He hadn’t seen Earl Ray for months and was delighted when the man had walked into the room. They hugged, his old friend then holding him at arm’s length and nodding his approval.

Nick touched his face. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

Earl Ray handed him a large manila envelope. “It’s official. You’re Nicholas Ross.”

“Nick Ross,” he said, trying out the name. Then he saw the white business envelope his friend held. “What is that?” he asked, having a bad feeling. All that was on the outside of it was Earl Ray’s neatly printed Nick.

“Is this what I think it is?” he’d asked, feeling that now-familiar flutter in his chest at even the mention of Kate Jackson.

Earl Ray nodded. “Entirely up to you to decide what you want to do with the information in that envelope.” He turned away and changed the subject as Nick took the envelope but didn’t open it. “You should have seen your funeral,” his old friend said, his back to him. “The entire town turned out for it. Dave even bought a round of drinks.”