She shivered and picked up the pace. Another sip of coffee and she tossed the cup in the first rubbish bin she saw. Another chill ran through her as she looked up at the signs above the various shops. “Definitely a tumbler first. I’m going to need that coffee good and hot.”
When another blast of cold air sent chills up her spine, Bryn ducked into the nearest shop without window shopping first. The bell above the door chimed and the girl behind the counter gave her a big smile.
Warmth hit Bryn like a wave and she was surrounded by the scent of cinnamon, much like she had smelled in the rideshare car but without the aftershave undertone.
“Welcome to Treks.” The girl walked toward her. “My name is Hannah. You look like you’re freezing.”
Bryn loosened her jacket. “I am, actually. I need to dispose of this worthless thing as soon as I can.”
“You certainly came to the right place.”
“It smells so good in here,” Bryn commented as she looked around. Racks of coats in a variety of colors lined the walls. Heavy sweaters sat folded on long displays, and shelves held knit hats stacked in neat piles. Everything looked built for functionality while still remaining fashionable.
Hannah smiled again. “Cinnamon seems to be the universal choice, and…” she leaned close and spoke in a loud whisper, “it’s the easiest to maintain. Not so touchy as other scents that we’ve tried that are either too strong and are undetectable. No happyin the middlearea. We add other scents to compliment the cinnamon around the holidays.”
“It’s very welcoming,” Bryn murmured, “and it fits.” She pulled her jacket off. “Do you have a rubbish bin I can toss this in? There’s no reason to save it.”
Hannah grabbed it and disposed of it in a can behind the counter. “Did you have anything in mind to replace it?”
Minutes later, Bryn was outfitted in a forest green puffy coat with a hat and matching gloves. The prices were fair, so she had even added a pair of hiking boots that complimented the jacket. “Thank you so much for your help.”
Hannah grinned. “Will you be able to use those once you return to Alabama?”
“Even if I can’t, they’ll be worth every penny while I’m here.”
While she checked the fit in a mirror, she caught the sound of voices coming through the door. Two women entered behind her, their heads close together. Their tones were low and conspiratorial.
“…can’t believe it happened here.”
“…the king, of all people…”
“…shot, they’re saying.”
Bryn stilled, her hand frozen on the coat’s collar.
She turned slightly and adjusted the hem to buy her some time so she could listen better. The women’s words tangled together and they were too muffled for her to make out much more of what they were saying.
Her stomach tightened and she kicked herself for not turning on the television. Usually it kept her awake and she already hadn’t been able to sleep. The television would have just added to it.
King? Had she really heard them correctly? It couldn’t possibly be who she was thinking.
She turned toward the woman. “Excuse me. Were you talking about a man who was shot yesterday?”
The shop fell silent so fast that Bryn instantly felt guilty for asking. The two women glanced at her, then at each other. Their expressions closed off in a way Bryn recognized instantly compliments of her sister. They weren’t going to tell her anything.
“Nothing you need to worry yourself about,” one of them said briskly while she tugged off her gloves.
Bryn blinked and fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I didn’t mean to pry, I just wondered.”
“Best focus on getting yourself warm,” the other cut in.
Hannah busied herself at the register and kept her eyes fixed on her work as if she hadn’t heard a thing.
Heat crept up Bryn’s neck. She turned back to the mirror while her pulse thudded in her ears. She thought of the man who had haunted her thoughts. He hadn’t looked like royalty and he had been alone.What exactly does a king look like?
Bryn paid for her purchases and thanked Hannah for her help. The women whispered in the corner and avoided her eyes as she left.
Back on the street, the cold bit less sharply through her new jacket, but unease threaded deeper into her chest. The town felt different now. Whether it was the man she had helped or not, their king had been shot. She needed to find a newspaper.
