Page 2 of Tribulation Pass

Time was of the essence, so she left the car running, struggling to get the car door open. The door slammed shut of its own volition and she ran up the short stairs, wincing as flower petals were ripped from their stems, swirling into the air in front of her.

As soon as she stepped under the wooden overhang she tried to put her hair back into a semblance of order before stepping through the door. Her stomach grumbled as the smell of food assaulted her senses. Between the adrenaline and nerves, she’d mostly been living on caffeine and power bars, with the occasional drive-thru meal tossed in. Getting to Laurel Valley had been the most important thing.

She wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but the sun had been up for a few hours, glaring into her rearview mirror as she headed west. At least until the clouds had started rolling in.

The restaurant was charming. A replica of many of the European chalets she’d seen on her travels. It was the view she noticed first. The entire back of the restaurant was windows that faced the famous Twin Peaks and the lake.

The restaurant felt peaceful—all wood and light and heavenly smells. It was a casual place, open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but it was clean and well cared for. Obviously a staple for the locals as there was a section off to the side where several men were playing checkers and drinking coffee, seemingly unbothered by the weather.

There was a group of teenagers in the farthest booth, giggling and completely absorbed in their own world, and in the booth next to theirs was a single man in a deputy’s uniform, reading the newspaper and eating his breakfast. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the teenagers, or much else for that matter. He barely gave her a glance when she walked inside.

“Welcome to The Lampstand,” the girl behind the hostess stand said. Her face was still soft and rounded with youth, and she couldn’t have been long out of high school. Her dark hair was piled artfully on top of her head, and she wore a white button-down shirt and a black pleated skirt that came a few inches above the knee.

“Some storm coming in,” she said. “You’re smart to wait it out until it blows through. You look like you could use some coffee. I’m Mac.”

“You’re right about the coffee,” Hattie said. “But I’ll take it to go, please.” She smiled cautiously at the girl. She’d been amazed how friendly all the people she’d encountered on her journey had been. She’d lived in a bubble in New York, and most of Derek’s associates hadn’t been the nicest people.

“You’re not from around here, huh?” Mac asked.

“What makes you say that?” Hattie asked.

“You’ve got a Yankee accent,” Mac said. “We get a lot of visitors during season, and we’re always trying to figure out where people are from. We’re pretty good at it. I hope you didn’t come all this way for tourist season. Everything wrapped up last week. Great shoes, by the way. I saw some just like them inCosmo.”

Hattie resisted the urge to run out the door and jump back in the car. Just because the girl could place what area of the country she was from didn’t mean she was going to get on the phone to Derek and tell him she was alive.

The only person who knew her identity was Atticus Cameron. And it had to stay that way. If Derek knew she was alive he’d come after her with a vengeance, and there was nothing or no one who could stop him.

ChapterTwo

“Cream and sugar?”Mac asked.

“Just black is fine,” Hattie said. She took the cup Mac gave her and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. “I’m hoping you can help me find my way. My phone lost service about an hour ago.”

“Yeah, cell service sucks out here when the weather is bad.”

“So the season is over?” Hattie asked. “It’s only locals around now? I was wondering why it wasn’t busier downtown. I thought I had another couple of weeks to go.”

“There’s a few latecomers like you,” Mac said, taking the paper from Hattie and flattening it out on the counter. “But it’s been a busy summer and we’re all glad for the break. At least for a little while. For three months in the summer and three months in the winter, Laurel Valley is overflowing with people. It’s great for business, but it’s nice when they all go home.”

“Amen to that!” said one of the old men playing checkers.

Mac grinned and a dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth. “You caught us at a good time. Usually this place is packed for the breakfast shift, but with the storm coming, most everyone will stay home today.”

“Except for me, apparently,” Hattie said. “I was hoping I could make it before things got too bad. Am I close?”

“Let’s see,” Mac said.

A waitress came out from the kitchen with a tray and moved behind the bar, heading toward a man at the end of the counter. She set his food in front of him and smiled, and then she headed over to where Hattie and Mac were standing.

The waitress had strawberry-blond hair and her face was free of makeup, covered with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose that made her look younger than she was. Her eyes were dark brown and only the fine lines at the corners gave her age as being a couple of decades older than Mac.

“I’m Alice,” the waitress said. “You want a table and something to eat? It’s going to get real nasty out there.”

“I just stopped in for directions and a jolt of caffeine,” Hattie said. “But I’ll be back. This is a great place.”

“Where you headed?” Alice asked.

“O’Hara land,” Mac said, giving Hattie a closer look. “You know that’s private property, right?”

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