renting a car.”
“Oh, you don’t really need one if you’re planning to stay in town. We have a free bus system that runs here and out to the resort village. You might enjoy renting a bike, though. That’s how most folks get around.” She smiled. “Until the snow starts falling, anyway, but that’s a few months off yet. Between the bike and the bus, you’d be all set. There’s a rack on the front of every bus to put your bike in, if you get somewhere you don’t feel like peddling back. And it’ll save you some money, too,” she added cheerfully.
Lauren paused a moment, wondering if—no, there was no way anyone could know about her job. She was being a little too paranoid. Besides, Jake was the only one she’d told—stupidly, now, she supposed—but Arlen’s secretary, Melissa, had said he wasn’t wanting to be all that chatty about where he’d dropped her off, which Lauren appreciated. So she would guess he hadn’t been in a gossiping mood, either. She hoped. Her sudden lack of both a career and steady income was definitely news she needed to spring herself.
“I’ll think about that. But, just in case, where would I rent a car?”
“Well, back at the local airport in Holden is your best bet, but sometimes the resorts will have them brought out and delivered for you. Usually, that’s more a seasonal thing, but I’d be happy to ring over there.”
“Isn’t that more of a service for their guests?” She should have held her ground and gotten a car before leaving the airport.
“Normally, yes, but I’m sure when I tell them you’re the mayor’s daughter—”
It was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue to correct her and say “stepdaughter.” But even that left a sour taste in her mouth. And now that she’d been clued in to her quasi-celebrity status in town, the less fodder she provided the better. “That’s okay,” she interrupted. “Truly. I’m—going to think about it. I appreciate your help.”
“I’m sure the mayor would be happy to take care of it for you. I can just ring Melissa, or Ruby Jean and—”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Debbie a question or twelve about her thoughts on the mayor, but now was not the time. Somehow she didn’t think Debbie was as stalwart as Jake when it came to being discreet. Which, admittedly, would be to her advantage in getting some answers, but not so much in keeping Debbie from telling everyone else that Lauren had some questions. “I think I’m just going to set out on foot and see the sights for a bit.”
Debbie waved her a cheery good-bye and, once on the sidewalk, Lauren turned and headed into town. Her motel was at the near end of Main Street as you entered Cedar Springs from the highway—if you could call the little two-lane road that. The resort was on the opposite end of town, and even now, in the summer, you could see the trails cut through the soaring pines, all over Mount Wisternan, the massive monolith that served as a spectacular backdrop to the entire village. She’d skied a few times, but only on the East Coast. She tried to imagine the pine green mountain, and the picture postcard town, buried in snow.
One thing was certain to be true, and that was that every person in Cedar Springs probably looked adorable in their brightly colored fleeces and snow gear.
One of the things she’d argued about with her mother, who’d retired and moved from Richmond, Virginia, to sunny Coral Gables, Florida, eighteen months earlier, was having to abruptly adjust to life in a place where it snowed at least seven months out of every twelve. The average snowfall of Cedar Springs was over a hundred feet each winter. Average. Being raised in the mid-Atlantic, where it occasionally snowed, sometimes even several feet…she still couldn’t really even imagine a hundred of them.
Her mother had laughingly responded that she’d moved to Colorado, not Siberia. And she’d moved here in February, so
“Oh, you don’t really need one if you’re planning to stay in town. We have a free bus system that runs here and out to the resort village. You might enjoy renting a bike, though. That’s how most folks get around.” She smiled. “Until the snow starts falling, anyway, but that’s a few months off yet. Between the bike and the bus, you’d be all set. There’s a rack on the front of every bus to put your bike in, if you get somewhere you don’t feel like peddling back. And it’ll save you some money, too,” she added cheerfully.
Lauren paused a moment, wondering if—no, there was no way anyone could know about her job. She was being a little too paranoid. Besides, Jake was the only one she’d told—stupidly, now, she supposed—but Arlen’s secretary, Melissa, had said he wasn’t wanting to be all that chatty about where he’d dropped her off, which Lauren appreciated. So she would guess he hadn’t been in a gossiping mood, either. She hoped. Her sudden lack of both a career and steady income was definitely news she needed to spring herself.
“I’ll think about that. But, just in case, where would I rent a car?”
“Well, back at the local airport in Holden is your best bet, but sometimes the resorts will have them brought out and delivered for you. Usually, that’s more a seasonal thing, but I’d be happy to ring over there.”
“Isn’t that more of a service for their guests?” She should have held her ground and gotten a car before leaving the airport.
“Normally, yes, but I’m sure when I tell them you’re the mayor’s daughter—”
It was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue to correct her and say “stepdaughter.” But even that left a sour taste in her mouth. And now that she’d been clued in to her quasi-celebrity status in town, the less fodder she provided the better. “That’s okay,” she interrupted. “Truly. I’m—going to think about it. I appreciate your help.”
“I’m sure the mayor would be happy to take care of it for you. I can just ring Melissa, or Ruby Jean and—”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Debbie a question or twelve about her thoughts on the mayor, but now was not the time. Somehow she didn’t think Debbie was as stalwart as Jake when it came to being discreet. Which, admittedly, would be to her advantage in getting some answers, but not so much in keeping Debbie from telling everyone else that Lauren had some questions. “I think I’m just going to set out on foot and see the sights for a bit.”
Debbie waved her a cheery good-bye and, once on the sidewalk, Lauren turned and headed into town. Her motel was at the near end of Main Street as you entered Cedar Springs from the highway—if you could call the little two-lane road that. The resort was on the opposite end of town, and even now, in the summer, you could see the trails cut through the soaring pines, all over Mount Wisternan, the massive monolith that served as a spectacular backdrop to the entire village. She’d skied a few times, but only on the East Coast. She tried to imagine the pine green mountain, and the picture postcard town, buried in snow.
One thing was certain to be true, and that was that every person in Cedar Springs probably looked adorable in their brightly colored fleeces and snow gear.
One of the things she’d argued about with her mother, who’d retired and moved from Richmond, Virginia, to sunny Coral Gables, Florida, eighteen months earlier, was having to abruptly adjust to life in a place where it snowed at least seven months out of every twelve. The average snowfall of Cedar Springs was over a hundred feet each winter. Average. Being raised in the mid-Atlantic, where it occasionally snowed, sometimes even several feet…she still couldn’t really even imagine a hundred of them.
Her mother had laughingly responded that she’d moved to Colorado, not Siberia. And she’d moved here in February, so
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