The door opened even before she finished climbing the porch. Nora stood in her apron, shaking her head. “I heard about thecrash, and I’ve been worried sick.” She reached out and pulled her into an embrace.
And Keely couldn’t move. Just ...what?
“Listen, I have fresh bread and jam waiting, and a lovely venison stew on the stove.”
Keely wanted to weep. “Can I borrow a phone?”
“Of course.” They went into the house and Nora shut the door behind her. “Oh, honey. Your poor voice. You must have worn it out in all the trauma.”
Something like that.
“Hang up your parka and boots by the door. And by the way, Moose Mulligan retrieved your suitcase and belongings. Hal brought them to your room.”
Her room?
“Here’s your phone. I took the liberty of charging it.”
She stared at the phone, the gold bling case, the cracked window, the picture of her and her mom on the lock screen.
“Maybe run yourself a bath. I’ll get you that bread and jam, and bring it up. Along with cocoa, huh?” She winked.
Keely stared at her. And then, oh no ... “You know.”
Nora frowned. “Know what?”
“Know about...” She unlocked her phone and swiped it open. A picture of herself as Bliss, the one from the cover ofVogue, filled the screen. “Bliss.”
Nora looked at it, frowned, cast her gaze back to her. “I don’t know who that is.”
Oh.
“Get yourself upstairs.” She headed for the kitchen.
Keely stood a moment, thenokay. Headed upstairs to the cozy room where she’d stayed what felt like a millennia ago.
Her carry-on, slightly dented but cleaned, sat on the bed. She ran her hand over it, then headed to the adjoining bathroom and ran water into the claw-foot tub.
She started to call Goldie, then hung up and texted instead. No need to freak her out.
Hey. Just checking in. Big blizzard here—no cell service. But I’m ready to leave. Can you hire me a car and have it pick me up in Copper Mountain?
She set the phone down and headed back to the tub to test the water.
That’s what she needed. A hot bath, something to forget the past five—or six, whatever—days and get back to her life.
A knock at the door, and she got up, her stomach already churning. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate.
She opened the door.
Stilled.What—?
Vic stood at the door, holding her tray of bread, jam, and hot cocoa, like a surreal maid service.
“Can we talk?” she said quietly. “Because it’s time you heard the entire story.”
16
“YOU SUREyou don’t want me to go in with you?”
