One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,9

and then walked into the past.

The massive dining table stretched horizontally in front of him, covered with a sheet. In fact, all the wooden furniture was covered with sheets, but he knew, by heart, every piece underneath—the dish hutch that rose to the ceiling, the side table with drawers for the tableware, the upright piano that was probably out of tune by now, and the long bar, where Nan had hosted her famous yearly Wines of Alaska tastings.

Donovan pulled out the waking puppy and set him on the floor.

Rick followed him inside. “Wow. I expected the place to be empty. But you could move right in.”

Donovan slid the sheet from the dining table and pulled out two chairs. “Have a seat while I see about getting the heat going.” But he hadn’t thought to have the utilities turned on, which seemed like an important oversight now, especially since October felt like full-on winter. It might not have done him any good anyway. After seventeen years, he certainly didn’t want to flip a switch before having the furnace checked out. But maybe he could start a fire in the large hearth, which could heat a good portion of the downstairs.

Beside the fireplace he found tinder, seasoned wood, and matches that looked like they’d been placed there just this morning.

Boomer toddled into the open living room and looked up at him.

“So, pup, do you think the wood was left here by the same person who shoveled the walkway for us?”

In answer, the dog yawned and collapsed at Donovan’s feet.

Donovan stacked tinder and logs on the grate, struck a match, and watched while it took off. When he was sure it was going, he secured the screen in front of the hearth before picking up the dog and heading back to where Rick had spread the documents on the table.

“I’ve liquidated assets, as you requested,” Rick said. “Instead of buying a place in Florida, though, my advice is for you to sink the money into this place.”

Sink was probably right. “You’re sounding like a broken record, Rick.” Donovan handed the dog off to him. Then, with pen in hand, he sat down in front of the papers.

“After you get those signed, I’ll take them in to town to mail them. I assume there isn’t a fax machine anywhere.”

“There may not even be a post office in Sweet Home anymore either. It used to be in the hardware store.” It was starting to dawn on Donovan how not having the hardware store might’ve affected the residents of Sweet Home. He tried to remember which nearby towns might have a post office. Even the closest might be an hour away.

Rick pulled out his phone. “I’ll do a search.”

Donovan anticipated the frown on his face. “No service?”

“Not a single bar,” Rick said.

“What did you expect? It’s the wilds of Alaska.”

The wind whipped outside, and the puppy whimpered. Rick handed the dog back. “Are you puppy-sitting, or do you own him?”

Donovan grunted again, not really having an answer for his friend. “Drive back to town to see if you have any cell service, or you can ask at the Hungry Bear where to mail those.”

“Okay. Will do. By the way, I didn’t see a hotel on the main strip, if you can call it that,” Rick said. “Is there a B-and-B in town?”

Donovan motioned to where they were standing. “As far as I know, this is the only B-and-B for miles.” He hoped there were beds upstairs for them to sleep in and quilts to crawl under, or they were going to be freezing tonight—something else he should’ve anticipated.

“Do you need anything while I’m in town?”

“No. I’m good.”

“I’ll be back,” Rick said, in his best Schwarzenegger voice, as he walked out the front door.

“Fine.” Donovan wanted to explore the rest of the house alone anyway. He glanced down at the sleeping runt, who was keeping him company whether Donovan wanted him to or not.

But the moment he heard Rick pull out of the driveway, Donovan thought of two things he needed. One: find out how to get the gas, electric, and water reconnected. Two: Boomer would need dog food.

“You’ll need a bed, too, because I won’t share mine.” He frowned down at the pup. “Let’s take a look at the lodge first. Then we’ll head into town.”

The dog squirmed, so Donovan set him to his feet. Faltering some, Boomer followed Donovan from the dining room, down the hall, and into Nan’s spacious sewing room, which had easily