Page 1 of Silverstorm

CHAPTER ONE

ARIA CUSACK DROVE slowly down the main street, watching everything pass by through her open window. It all looked exactly the same. But why was she surprised? In the eight years she’d been away from Stevensville, nothing had changed. The sleepy little town, set in the foothills of the Bitterroot Mountains, Montana, was still a haven for the outdoorsman who liked hunting, fishing, or biking, as well as the rugged cowboys who lived and worked in the surrounding agricultural areas. And that was about where the attraction finished.

Main Street’s historic storefronts with their pretty awnings and rows of potted flowers hadn’t altered one bit. Trucks and SUVs lined the streets, parked in the angled bays along the curb. People ambled along the sidewalks, and cafe tables spilled out onto the street. It was all so normal. The rest of the suburban streets leading to semi-rural properties on the outskirts, and eventually graduating to ranches and agricultural farms as far as the eye could see, were all still much the same, too. Some might call it quaint and unique. Aria called it boring, cloying, claustrophobic. It was one of the many reasons she’d left; to get away from this dingy little backwater. There’d been other reasons, too—much darker reasons—but she brushed them aside, not wanting to dwell on her shitty life.

If only circumstances beyond her control hadn’t brought her crawling back to her hometown. The picturesque town might like to flaunt its historic roots, but Aria’s own history here was locked firmly in a carefully constructed box inside her head, where she could keep it safely hidden away and not think about it. Except, now that she was back, pushing those memories down was getting harder and harder to do.

Her long, dark hair swirled in the breeze, and she pulled it over her shoulder to stop it from getting in her eyes. Shivering, she wound up her window, the chilly air raising goose bumps on her skin beneath her thin sweater. It was only November, but the fall sunshine was weak. Winter always hit Stevensville earlier and harder than in other, less mountainous states. She’d need to get hold of a thick, winter jacket before long. Living in the coastal city of Portland for the past four years had made her soft. At least, that’s what her father would say.

The storefronts lining Main Street thinned out as she entered the western end of town, replaced by warehouses and a mechanic shop. She cruised past the Montana Chocolate Company, her mouth watering at the thought of the delicacies she knew were inside. The best chocolate this side of the Rocky Mountains was their motto, and they may well be right. Aria had tasted a free sample the other day when she’d ventured inside, but there was no way her meagre funds would allow the purchase of such a luxury, so she’d slunk out again.

Soon the suburbs turned to open fields, and her mood improved. Changing up a gear, she put her foot down on the gas pedal as she came to the city limits. Her old, gray Subaru grumbled a little, then slowly built up speed.

Patting the steering wheel affectionately, she said, “Come on, Gandalf, you can do it.” The car was on its last legs, but she couldn’t afford to replace it, and it’d got her from Portland to Stevensville in once piece, so she treated him gently and nursed him along. She’d purchased Gandalf four years ago, when she’d arrived in Portland, and the car had done a great job of getting her around. People laughed at her when they found out she’d given her car the name of the great wizard from the Tolkien books. But she shrugged off their hilarity. Her Subaru may be long in the tooth, but by some form of magic, it’d kept her safe for this long. Even offering her shelter when she needed it.

The road stretched out in front, and her chest expanded a little. While she hadn’t missed the town itself, the Bitterroot Valley was definitely one of the most beautiful spots she’d ever seen. Green pine trees marched up to the imposing silhouette of St. Mary Peak, the highest mountain in the area, stark and barren, running parallel to the highway. Although she couldn’t see it, the Bitterroot River would be winding its way through the foothills, hidden by a line of trees. She remembered swimming in the clear, pure water of the river as a child in the summer, listening to the musical burble as it rippled over the stones and around boulders.

Perhaps this place wasn’t all bad.

Then Aria shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. Her mind had switched back to her encounter with her father, Tango Cusack, three days ago. Much like the town of Stevensville, he hadn’t changed, either. In fact, he’d probably gotten worse. Even more mistrustful, if that were possible. The way his eyes had screwed up, becoming tiny pinholes as he opened the front door a crack and spied her standing on the veranda. The way his gravelly voice had grated as he’d said, “What’re you doing back in town? You were better off staying away. Now scram.” The way he’d spat a glob of mucus through the opening of the door that landed at her feet, making her scramble backward so she nearly fell down the rickety stairs. And the way he’d slammed the door in her face with a bang of finality.

Aria tried to put her father out of her mind. She shouldn’t have expected any more. Just because she hoped time would’ve softened him a little, she’d known deep down that wouldn’t be true. But hope was a slippery thing. It filled you with ideas of forgiveness and the possibility of something better. She was stupid to have let hope in. But Aria had nowhere else to go. Her father and her sister were her only remaining family. She’d wished that by coming back to her hometown, she might find some redemption. Heal old wounds. Try and get past what’d happened. Aria was a realist, and she knew her kin wouldn’t welcome her with open arms. But still… Even a roof over her head would be nice at this point. Because she was fast running out of money. And running out of options.

After her disastrous encounter with Tango, Aria had been putting off trying to locate Iliana, her sister. Iliana had married some local rancher and was living on a farm somewhere outside town. Aria had received a wedding invitation two years ago, but had put off replying. In the end, she’d left it too late. Or at least that’s what she told herself. Now she regretted not attending the wedding. Regretted throwing away the invitation, so she no longer had her contact details. Regretted throwing away that tenuous connection Iliana had offered her. She wondered if their relationship could still be mended.

Part of the reason she’d gone to see Tango was to ask for an address for her sister. She knew the last name of the guy Iliana had married was Doncaster. But he must be relatively new in town, because she didn’t remember anyone with that last name. Her visit to her father hadn’t turned out like she’d planned, however, and so she’d have to resort to asking careful questions around town. But even after three days, she still hadn’t worked up the courage to pose the question to any of the locals, preferring to keep a low profile, scared someone would recognize her. Which was kind of stupid, because someone was going to recognize her, sooner or later. This was her hometown, after all. She was just putting off the inevitable. Not wanting to see the pity enter their eyes when they remembered who she was; what’d happened to her family. Or see their condemnation when they found out about her little problem.

Shaking her head to clear it of all the painful memories, she grasped the steering wheel tighter. She needed to concentrate on where she was going. She had a job interview at Stargazer Ranch, a few miles out of town. And while she knew where it was, she’d never actually visited there before.

Stargazer Ranch was well known around town. Mostly, it had a good reputation, and the owners, Dean and Naomi, were well-liked by the locals. Aria had heard plenty of stories about the luxurious resort during her childhood. They attracted many rich clientele, and even their small share of celebrities, eager to experience the Montana mountains while staying in the lap of luxury.

This interview might be her only chance. A change in her fortune. The job was for a social media and marketing position. Aria had been studying graphic design with a minor in advertising at Portland State University, and had been halfway through her last year before she was forced to leave. She loved graphic design, had a knack for it, a real flair some of her professors had told her, and her grades had been excellent. She’d been using some of those skills at a part-time job at an ad agency, working in her spare time when she wasn’t studying. The people she’d worked with had been young and motivated, pushing her to expand her ideas, think outside the box when it came to marketing. It was a bright and vibrant place to work. But there’d been a reshuffle of the staff a month ago, and the CEO of the company decided they needed someone to take up her position full time. Of course, she was offered that position, but she couldn’t do both, not work full time and finish her university degree. So, with a heavy heart, she’d left the company. That’d been the start of her downward spiral, even though she hadn’t known it at the time. She’d been confident of finding another part-time job fairly easily. And Beau had seemed understanding at the time, saying he didn’t mind supporting her for a few weeks until she could find a new job. How wrong that sentiment had turned out to be. The bastard.

At least she had a glowing reference from her old job. It was the one thing in her favor. If she could get this position, she’d be able to earn some money. In a few weeks, she might even be able to afford a place to stay, and a proper meal, instead of existing on stolen candy bars and sleeping in her car. She needed somewhere safe to stay, and soon.

With a guilty glance, she looked down at the small pile of chocolate sitting on the passenger seat. The older woman tending the cashier in the milk bar hadn’t even noticed when Aria walked past with five candy bars stuffed in her pockets. The place had been packed, and the woman looked run off her feet. The guilt almost made her confess her crime right there, but her rumbling stomach had forced her to keep on walking.

“See what you’ve reduced me to, Beau,” she grumbled, but only Gandalf was listening. Beau was her stupid boyfriend. No, stupid ex-boyfriend, she had to keep reminding herself. He was part of the reason she was in this pickle in the first place.

A car appeared in her rearview mirror. She concentrated on the road ahead, slowing a little to allow the vehicle to overtake her. But the car didn’t pass as she expected, instead, it hugged her rear bumper.

“Crap, go around me,” she urged the driver behind her.

Suddenly, red and blue flashing lights lit up her rearview mirror.

Crap, crap, double crap. This was the last thing she needed. To be pulled over by the sheriff. Not that she was doing anything wrong. But she couldn’t be late for the interview.

Aria pulled over to the side of the road when it was safe and watched the cruiser pull in behind her. An officer opened his door and began walking down the white line at the edge of the bitumen toward her, his hat pulled down low. She rolled down her window with a sigh of resignation. Right before he reached her window, she remembered the candy bars and knocked them into the footwell on the passenger side, hoping he wouldn’t notice them down there.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, standing next to the window and leaning down to stare at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

Not anymore, she thought sullenly, but turned to smile brightly at him.

“Morning, Deputy,” she replied, noting the insignia on his uniform.

“I noticed you have a taillight out. And that rear tire of yours is bald,” the young deputy continued.

Holy crap. Aria hardly heard the words as she stared at the man in shock. It was Jude Wilder. The Jude Wilder. The guy she’d had a crush on for most of her senior high school years. A crush so bad, she’d even written a poem on the back of the girls’ toilet stall door as a teenage token of her love for him. But her love had been unrequited, because it seemed Jude hadn’t even known she’d existed.

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