Page 33 of Love Fast

“Anything I can do to help?”

Kathleen pulls in a breath. “No, but I have a thousand things to do if you don’t mind?—”

“Get to it,” I say, and she heads off.

I feel useless as I stand in front of the huge windows overlooking Star Falls. Everyone’s rushing back and forth, carrying things. I don’t quite understand how there’s nothing for me to do if everyone’s so busy.

I spot Hart and stalk over to him. He’s carrying a lamp. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Emptying the chalets we think are the most vulnerable to storm damage. It’s all hands on deck. I’ve got every member of staff on shift helping.”

“Alright,” I say. “Then let me help too.”

“Okay then,” he says, leading me out the main entrance. He glances up at the sky threatening to pour with rain at any moment. “Prepare to get wet.”

As we head over to chalet four, a line of staff comes toward us, carrying blankets and mirrors, dining chairs and coffeemakers. It’s like we’re looting the place. I scan faces, waiting to catch a glimpse of Rosey, but I don’t see her.

“Is everyone who was due on shift still working? We haven’t sent people back to their families?” I ask, picking up one end of a huge antique oak chest in the primary bedroom of the chalet. Hart picks up the other end.

“Anyone who wanted to leave has gone already,” he says. “Most people aren’t local. Oh, and one of the waitresses had to find her cat.”

My heart leaps out of my chest. Cat? Was that Rosey who left? She can’t have thought leaving the protection of the Club to go after Athena was a good idea.

Hart and I get into a rhythm carrying the chest across the site. As nonchalantly as possible, I say, “I take it we have a list of everyone who’s staying up here so we can ensure everyone’s accounted for?”

“Absolutely,” he says. Of course he doesn’t offer me a look at the list. Why would he? I’m not known for micromanagement, but I frantically try and think of an excuse to see it. All the while I’m scanning faces, trying to find Rosey.

As we make it inside the main building, Hart calls out to Hazel. “Have we updated the roster since the last bus left?” he asks.

“Yeah, it was just Rosey Williams on the bus. I’ve taken her off.”

My heart sinks.

Fuck.Rosey. I have no idea if she knows how to prep for a tornado. I can’t imagine there are many tornadoes in Oregon. Does she even know about the shelter by the cabins, or how to use a weather radio?

There’s no way she can be on her own in the cabins. I glance at the darkening sky. Hart and I put the chest down and I say, “Actually, there are a couple of things I’m going to need from the cabin. I’m going to head down into town.”

It’s the easiest decision I’ve made today. There’s no way I’m going to leave Rosey on her own.

I step outside to find rain has started to fall. The staff emptying cabins are being called into the main building. This isn’t the main storm, but there’s no point in carrying stuff in this weather. The people of the Colorado Club are in good hands. But I need to get to Rosey.

By the time I get to my truck, I’m soaked to the skin. I slide into the driver’s seat, wipe the water from my face and head down the mountain. As long as there are no fallen trees, I can get to her before the real storm hits.

I hope.

FOURTEEN

Rosey

All anyone has talked about at work today is the weather. The bus doors open and part of me wants to ask the driver to turn around and drive me back to the Club. But I can’t. I have to make sure Athena’s safe. She’s an independent little thing, but she always comes home last thing at night.

The rain is so heavy, I can barely see the outline of the cabin. And apparently, this isn’t the storm everyone’s worried about. I like rain. I’m from freaking Oregon—rain runs through my veins. But the look of worry shadowing the locals’ faces today has me on edge.

I hope Athena is curled up on the porch. I learned my first day with Athena that I can’t keep her in the cabin all day. She clawed my leg and shot out the door when I showed up after my shift the first day I left her at home. She’s not a cat who can be shut in. How she ended up in the cat carrier, I have no idea.

The short walk from the road to the cabin leaves me drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet. Athena normally comes from nowhere to circle my legs before I have my key in the door. Today, there’s no sign of her. I scan the porch, but I can’t see any huddled-up bundle of white fluff anywhere.

“Athena!” I call. “Kitty cat!” I doubt she can hear me. The rain on the roof of the porch hits like a hammer on granite. I check the time on my phone. I wonder if Snail Trail is still open? I could use some rain boots. I glance up at the sky. No, rain boots aren’t going to help. I need a freaking canoe.

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