Welcome to Chance Rapids, where some things had changed, and that was good for my boss and my briefcase full of real estate proposals. And where some things stayed the same. Like the fact that Clara Dalton still hated my guts.
2
CLARA
DidI look in the rearview mirror? Hell no. We'd said our goodbyes fifteen years ago. Once was enough. At least this time, I was the one driving away.
My hands strangled the cracked steering wheel, my nails digging crescents into my palms. It was either that or let my hands shake, and I wasn't going to give Beckett Shepherd that power over me.
The weather report on PEAK FM was the same as every December: snow, snow, and more damn snow. Beckett wasn't the first guy in a rental SUV with all-seasons I'd pulled out this winter, and he wouldn't be the last.
The truck fishtailed as I hit the gas. I let off, felt the tires catch, then punched it again. Snow and ice sprayed from my tires, and I didn't look back.
The opening notes ofGrandma Got Run Over by a Reindeertwanged through the speakers, and I twisted the dial so hard it came off in my hand. PEAK FM was in full December mode: twenty-four hours a day of Christmas carols sung by every damn country singer who'd ever picked up a guitar. But the silence was worse. I jammed the knob back on and tuned into Windswan'slocal station hoping for something angry, something aggressive, but all that came through was more Christmas carols, this time sung by Elvis.
Giving up, I turned off the radio and let the thump and squeak of the old wipers accompany me to town. My breath fogged the windshield. "Damn you, Beck. I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year. You had to come and ruin it all."
I didn't see the new speed bump until I hit it. The seatbelt pinched my shoulder as I was bucked from the driver's seat, the tinkle of cheap bells reminding me that I was still wearing the ridiculous antlers. "Dammit.” I ripped off the headband and the bells jangled as it skidded across the bench seat.
I pressed the back of my hands to my cheeks. Was the truck overheating? The temperature gauge was normal; it wasn't the truck, it was me. After all this time, how could that asshole do this to me?
And business? What the hell kind of 'business' was he in town for? The wipers groaned as they skidded across the dry windshield. When had the snow stopped falling? I turned them off and steeled my focus on the road ahead, but my mind drifted back to Beck.
What kind of business did a retired hockey player have in Chance Rapids? Beer sponsorship? Energy drinks? Maybe he was opening one of those sports shops where a water bottle costs forty bucks. Actually, that last one made sense. The town could use a store that sold something other than Carhartts or thousand-dollar ski jackets.
After he left, I only got updates of his life from the Chance Rapids Gazette. The last big news story about the 'local boy done good' was when he'd been signed to some NHL team. That was the last time I'd heard or read his name.
As I slowed to stop at the traffic lights, I wondered if I should've stayed with Beck to see if his fancy car was drivable.The downtown gazebo's Christmas lights cast a ghastly blue glow on the dashboard. The replacement of the classic green and red bulbs with the hideous LED string lights the color of Cookie Monster had been the biggest controversy in town. I headed north through the intersection.
If it had been anyone else, I would've stayed, but I think I was in fight or flight, and punching him in the already broken nose wasn't an option. No, I did the right thing. I had to get out of there.
Main Street was quiet. A few people stood huddled smoking outside The Last Chance Tavern. I waved to Mary, the bartender, and her cigarette glowed with her return wave.
Beckett was lucky I came along at all. This pause in the snow was a temporary break in the weather. He was such an idiot, he probably would’ve stayed in that car, not to be found until the spring melt.
I shook the thought out of my head. Yes, I hated him, but not quite enough to wish him to turn into Frosty the Snowman. And Beck might be a city boy now, but he grew up here. He would've found a way into town, even in those stupid shoes of his.
The Beck I knew wouldn't have been caught dead in a pair of wingtips, but the Beck I knew was gone, and he had been for a long time. That guy, with his fancy shoes, thick brown hair that curled just below his earlobes, and eyes the same color as… stop it Clara. I cleared my throat.
Beck's eyes were the color of tropical water, at least the water I'd seen in photos. I'd never been. We'd planned a road trip to Florida on his first spring break, but that didn't happen.
As I sipped my lukewarm coffee, red flashing lights lit up the night. One of the town's two police cruisers was behind me. "Ugh, has the old bastard not got anything better to do tonight?" I muttered to myself.
I pulled over and cranked down the window. "How's it going, Sheriff Henderson?"
"Good, Clara. Where are you coming from tonight?"
I gestured to the truck bed, which was filled with firewood. "Work, and then I had to pick up a cord of birch from the Lumber farm."
The old Sheriff's kind eyes tracked over my coffee mug. "Got something on your mind?"
My rebellious teenage years were long behind me, and Sheriff Henderson and I weren't always on such friendly terms. He knew that I'd turned my life around, so his concern wasn't a surprise. "No, why?" I furrowed my brow. I hadn't been speeding, and the only thing I'd had to drink that night was coffee.
His head nodded ever so slightly, his lips pursed like he didn't quite believe me. "The red light isn't optional."
Blinking, I looked over my shoulder at the traffic lights. It had been green when I drove through it, right? I had no idea. I was on autopilot, trying to put as much distance as I could between me and the guy who broke my heart. "Shit, Sheriff. I could've sworn it was green. I was a little distracted by the blue lights on the gazebo.”
He shook his head. "Those goddamn lights. The town council needs to swallow their pride and budget and get the old ones back." His focus returned to me. "Where are you headed?"
