Page 1 of Ice Princess

CHAPTER

ONE

REBEL

If I leave this world,it will be in a shroud of pink. In a pink coffin. Beneath a pink tombstone, stained with the words‘Rebel Hart, she was many things, but invisible wasn’t one of them’.

As I stalk into Carol Kinsey’s enormous barn, several heads swivel to look at me. Three ladies in particular glare at me, as if they’d want nothing more than to bury me in the pink casket of my dreams.

I smile tauntingly at Marjorie White, who scoffs and returns to her task of wrapping a row of rusty bleachers in dainty, white cloth.

Her two henchwomen barricade themselves on either side of the bleachers’ entrance. Time is against me or I might have considered running up to their human blockade, just to see what they’d do in response.

Continuing on my way, I ignore the whistles that erupt as I pass crew members doing last minute preparations on their monster trucks. The raucous calls are nothing but background noise.

Just then, I spot a frantic man huffing through the barn’s southern entrance. He’s wearing a T-shirt bearing the name ‘Scooby’s Nightmare Staff’. I take out my phone and double-check the email April forwarded to me.

Scooby’s Nightmare.

Yup. It’s my client—Rodney Howard.

The red-faced man stops in front of me, breathing hard enough that I wonder if he needs an inhaler.

“Are you the one from Pink Garage?” He stares pointedly at the pink over-alls covering my pure white undershirt. “Tell me it’s you.”

I like this guy already.

Normally, I’d have to introduce myself as the mechanic. And when I do, I’m either laughed out of the room or I’m forced to do an entire song and dance about why and how I’m qualified to fix a car.

“Yes, it’s me,” I say simply.

He starts fast-walking to the exits. “This way.”

I keep up with him, trying not to let the waves and waves of anxiety on his shoulders affect my own psyche. Whatever’s causing him to respond withthismuch desperation will only cloud my judgement.

Remain calm, Rebel.

As we move, I pull my hair into a high ponytail and secure it with a clip. “Did you call a welding team?”

“They just got here,” he explains.

“I’ll double-check their equipment before we get started. I don’t want us to run out of rods before the roll cage is secured. If everything’s set, we’ll begin welding. If not, I’ll have to ask you to find what we need.”

“Anything. Just let me know.” He rubs his head as if he has a terrible headache. “It’s our first out-of-state show and we had no idea about the adjusted roll cage dimensions. Myassistant must have missed the email or…” He huffs out another breath. “Anyway, what matters is getting this done before the preliminaries in an hour. If we don’t, we’ll be disqualified.”

Once we’re outside of the main arena, he takes a sharp left to one of the outpost barns on the property.

The nearby trees applaud our brisk trot and offer a bit of shade from the blistering sunshine. The smell of freshly turned mulch fills my nose.

The Kinsey’s apple orchard isthebiggest, and arguably, the most beautiful in all of Lucky Falls. During harvest time, the air is alive with the scent of ripe apples and during planting time, tractors rumble as they prepare the soil.

My history with the Kinsey family is bittersweet, but their apple orchard holds pleasant memories.

I see a pickup parked outside the outpost. The welding machine is still tucked in the bed. I shield my eyes with a hand, squinting past the sun’s glare in order to make out the model of the machine.

That’ll do. But why hasn’t it been unloaded?

I stalk ahead of the client and enter the outpost. There are five men standing around a bright green monster truck with the words ‘Scooby’s Nightmare’ emblazoned on the side in a graphic font.

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