Page 43 of Hell on an Angel
“Stay put.” Cree headed back across the yard toward where Kennedy had fallen. Glancing around, he didn’t see a key card. “What colour is the key?” he shouted.
“Gold,” she yelled back.
There was nothing that resembled a gold key card. Walking along the edge of the sidewalk all the way back to the check-in office, he found nothing. He walked back on the opposite side of the walkway and still found nothing. “Kennedy, are you sure the key card is gold?” he asked when he stopped by the stoop.
“It’s a gold key. Like an actual key.”
“Shit.” Retracing his steps, he still didn’t see a key. Moving over the lawn, he searched for ten minutes before he spotted it. When she fell, it must have gone sailing through the air. Grabbing it up, he headed back to the cottage.
When they finally got inside, they were both wet from the sleet. Closing the door, he turned on the gas heaters in the small living room, the bedroom, and the bathroom. Finding two guest bathrobes hanging on the door, he grabbed and called Kennedy into the bathroom so they could change.
With them both chilled to the bone, Cree decided a hot bath would be best. Turning on the water, he started running a bath as Kennedy stepped into the room. “How about a bath to warm up?”
“Oh, that sounds good.”
“You also need to soak that hip.”
When she stripped off her jeans, Cree saw that her entire hip had already begun to bruise. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re gonna be hurting tomorrow.”
Glancing in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door, she saw what he was talking about. The hip was already discoloured. “I hope not.” It would make the ride worse.
Cree sank into the warm water and leaned his head back. The old clawfoot tub was bigger than any of the other tubs at other locations they’d stayed. It could easily hold three adults. “This must be an original clawfoot tub and not a replica.”
“Looks like an old tub,” Kennedy said as she climbed over the high side. Sinking down in between Cree’s legs, she sighed at the feeling of the warm water. Lying back, she closed her eyes.
They stayed in the tub for over an hour. When the water cooled, they’d let some out and added more hot water to the bath. When they finally decided to climb out, the topic of dinner came up. Neither wanted to go back out. They’d rather go hungry. Instead, Cree found a binder with menus and pamphlets of local interests inside.
After calling four different restaurants and finding none of them open, they were running out of places to call. Every time Cree hung up, she would tell him to call the office, which he ignored. When he threw the last menu in the trash, she suggested to call the office again. It was funny how a man wouldn’t ask for directions when they were lost. Cree didn’t want to call for recommendations of places to eat.
Reaching for the phone, she laughed as he fought for it. Laughing when she finally got it away from him, she called the front desk. “Hey, Mandy, would you mind suggesting a restaurant that delivers?”
“Oh. Yes. We have a dining room, or we have room service.”
“Even for the cottages?”
“Yes. Look in the binder for a menu. It’s taped to the back.”
“Awesome. Thank you.” Hanging up, she grabbed the binder and flipped it to the back. “They have a dining room and they deliver,” she repeated what the receptionist had told her.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard since we left Red Lake.”
“The best thing?” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Those sounds are exempt from this conversation.”
“Mmhmm,” she responded as she scanned the menu. Nothing sounded good, so she closed her eyes and pointed to the menu. Whatever it was, she’d eat it and not complain. Opening her eyes, her finger lay on the special of the day. “I’ll have the stew.”
“Sounds good to me.”
An hour later, with their food eaten, they were under the blankets, watching the weather. Neither spoke as the weatherman announced that more sleet was on the way. With a heavy sigh, Cree grabbed the phone and called the front desk, securing the cottage for an extra night. When Mandy commented that it must have been the food that convinced them to stay, Cree agreed with a chuckle so the young lady wouldn’t feel bad about dinner sucking.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The weather had turned worse overnight and kept going downhill for the next three days. The chance of her being with her brother for her birthday had passed. Every day, she and Player checked in with one another, discussing the weather and road conditions as they waited and watched for the next clear day to leave. Not once did her brother bring up the topic of her and Cree being together. Player asked about everything except Cree. He adamantly avoided talking about the man.
When they finally got a break, they packed up and headed out. It was like experiencing an Indian summer with the temps in the mid-to-high forties. With the sun out and clear skies, the roads were dry, making for a safer ride.
At the first gas stop, Cree asked how her hip felt. She lied, telling him it was fine. There was no way in hell she’d waste a good weather day due to a bruised hip. Nope. They had miles to catch up on, and daylight was burning. Nine-and-a-half hours would put them back on track. Did she think they could do it? Hell yes. Would they? That was the question of the day. Even if they didn’t, it could still work out for them to get to Montreal by Christmas. Tomorrow, the ride was only four hours. With her earbuds in, she listened to the podcast she’d started weeks earlier. Nothing like a good murder to lift her spirits.
