the old carriage house in the back of the short alley. He’d been tempted to check out the woodworker for himself. But she’d said it wasn’t him. So, Collin saw no reason to wade through the alley’s snow. But he couldn’t help being curious. This morning while Kate was in the bathroom, he’d gone down to the motel office and quizzed Shirley. Shirley was easy on the eyes, and she seemed bored and glad for the company.
“Jon Harper? He’s a strange one,” she’d told him. “No one knows his story. He seldom comes out of that shop of his. Bessie and Earl Ray are the only two people in town that he’s said more than a couple of words to.”
“Earl Ray?” Collin had asked.
“He’s our local war hero. Late sixties, gray hair, military buzz cut. You’ll see him around if you’re here long. He hangs out at Bessie’s most days. The town gossip is that Jon either killed someone or got his heart broken, and he’s hiding out here.” She’d shrugged. “I think he’s just a loner.”
Collin had asked the café owner as well while Kate was in the ladies’ room. He got pretty much the same thing from her. Not much. That’s why he was still curious. Just not curious enough to visit the hermit in his workshop. He did wonder, though, what Kate had seen in the man that made her think even for a second that Jon Harper was her dead husband.
“Hello there.” Fred came out from under the pickup wiping his greasy hands on a filthy rag. “I think I found that part you need. With luck it will be here tomorrow.”
“Can’t get it here any sooner?” Collin asked, cursing silently to himself.
“Not with this storm. The part’s coming up from Wyoming, where the roads are said to be even worse. Word is that even the interstate is closed to all but emergency traffic.”
This was an emergency, but Collin couldn’t bring himself to tell the man that since it wouldn’t do any good, anyway. “Tomorrow, huh? Okay, I guess I can live with that if you can fix it right away, so we can leave tomorrow afternoon. Is that possible?”
“Soon as I get that part, I’m on it.” Fred gave him a toothy smile and ducked back under the pickup as a young man in his twenties came roaring up on a snowmobile, snagging Fred’s attention. “My son, Tyrell,” the mechanic said under his breath before looking at the clock on the wall. “You’re late,” he called to his son who came slouching in. Tyrell wore jeans, biker boots and a large army coat that had seen better days. His expression was one of defiance as he went into the office.
Collin could see him pouring himself a cup of coffee, his back to them.
Fred made a disgruntled sound before he headed into the office. Collin could hear the two of them arguing as he left.
“Where have you been?” Fred was asking. “You’d better not be sniffing around that woman again.”
He couldn’t hear the son’s answer. Whatever it was, it hadn’t pleased Fred.
As Collin stepped out into the snowstorm, the argument faded behind him. The storm had worsened. He could hardly see the buildings across the highway. He tucked his chin into his coat and tipped his head down and walked into the wind and blowing snow. What a miserable friggin’ place, he thought. He couldn’t wait until he had Buckhorn in his rearview mirror—and Jon Harper with it.
The thought of going back to that motel room threatened to bring on an anxiety attack. Even outside in the storm he felt closed in, trapped. That’s when he spotted a bar sign on the edge of town that he’d somehow missed before.
* * *
IT HAD STARTED to snow harder as Kate finished pretending that she was eating her breakfast. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the motel. She hadn’t seen Collin, so she assumed he was still dealing with the mechanic at the garage. If he’d gone back to the motel, he’d either be on his phone or flipping the channels impatiently on the television. The program selection was limited. She suspected that nothing could hold his interest.
Kate left the café, ducking her head to the snow and frosty breeze as she made her way down to the store. She’d always been able to lose herself in a good book. The selection wasn’t much, but she picked up several, thinking one of them might keep