My stomach rumbled again. That would do just fine.
 
 Small rural towns often had diners. And thank God for that. What else would be open at this time of night? Other than possibly some swanky place probably down to a dessert and drink menu at best.
 
 I’d take my chances with the grease and a corner booth—after I found the inn.
 
 It took me another fifteen minutes to find it via GPS and then to locate parking. I was tempted to do a sideways tilt off a snowbank but figured that probably wouldn’t ingratiate me to this perfectly lovely town.
 
 That I could not fuckingwaitto leave.
 
 The Hummingbird’s Nest bed and breakfast was church silent as I crossed the wide porch to the door with its cheery little bell. That might’ve been because of the innate quiet of a good snowfall or due to the lateness of the hour.
 
 Going inside didn’t change my assessment. I saw absolutely no one in the foyer, or the little gift shop to the left, or the fancy restaurant closed off behind pocket doors to my right.
 
 Then a blond popped up from behind the wide cherry counter. “Hi, you look peaked!” Her curls bounced to match her infernally perky voice. “Weary traveler?”
 
 I blessed myself because Jesus Christ, my heart had nearly stopped at the sight of her. “You could say that. Room?”
 
 “Like room at the inn? Sure thing. What’s your name? Do you have people in town? What brought you this way in a storm like this?”
 
 Far too many questions, offered in a rapid-fire style that made my ears buzz. She was like a living white noise machine. Except her noise was pink, to go along with her brightly colored dress. “Come again?”
 
 “I’m sorry, you must think I’m wacky.”
 
 That was one word for it.
 
 “I’m Sage Hamilton. My husband and I own The Hummingbird’s Nest—where you’re standing,” she added, as if I’d failed to notice the sign on the door. “We don’t get a lot of out-of-towners this time of year, and definitely not this time of night during a storm. But your reasons for being here are none of my business. I’m just a nosy sort.” She smiled and her looks veered from pretty into downright stunning.
 
 “I was meeting an acquaintance near Turnbull but the storm delayed my flight. Then his baby was fussy and I didn’t even know he had a baby. Named Wolf no less. Who names their child that?”
 
 “Mine is named Star.”
 
 “So, it’s a small town thing then.” Made sense.
 
 “Possibly.” Her smile grew as she tapped keys on a sleek computer system. “So, how long are you here for?”
 
 I glanced at my watch. “Twenty-two hours give or take.”
 
 “Aww, you’re going to miss the Sap Fest.”
 
 I hated to be redundant, but… “Come again?”
 
 “Maple syrup. You came at the perfect time to try some of our tastiest local concoctions. Like maple ice. If you’re a fan of icees from the gas station, you’ve got to try these.”
 
 “Um. Shame to miss that.”
 
 “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? What country are you from anyway? I can’t place the accent.”
 
 “America.”
 
 Rather than becoming offended, she laughed. Gaily. As if I wasn’t a rude fucker who’d invaded her happy hushed sanctuary at damn close to midnight.
 
 “Point taken. I have a nice room for you. The last one we have with a fireplace. Good for a night like this.”
 
 She leaned forward and tilted her head, peering over the counter at my hands. At least that was what I assumed she was looking at. Maybe my lack of gloves? Surely she couldn’t see the hole in my sneaker from that height. It wasn’t a big one. It hadn’t even been the shoe’s fault. I’d met a nail and lost. And stubborn fool that I was, I’d refused to stop wearing my favorite pair.
 
 “No luggage?”
 
 “A bag in the car.” I gestured vaguely out the door. “I wanted to make sure there was room for me before I brought in my belongings.”