“She knew why you wanted that, my dear,” he says, more quietly now. “When your parents died, it hit her hard, but I’m sure you knew that. She didn’t talk about it much, but when you chose to become a pilot to honor them . . . well, she could not have been more proud.”
I’d like to think that was true. But I know, deep down, that it pained her. A plane crash took my parents, and Gran hated the idea that the same thing could happen to me.
“Ellen will take care of anything you need,” I tell them, steering the subject away from memories. “A hearty breakfast will be served at six a.m., to get you off to a good start for your first day of hunting.”
“Thanks, Captain,” he tells me with a wink. He presses a handful of cash into my hand. “Have yourself a merry Christmas.”
“Sir, you don’t need to tip,” I tell him. “It’s my pleasure, really.”
“Call me Hank,” he answers. “And buy yourself something nice. You deserve it. And don’t try telling me your grandmother wouldn’t take it. It’s how she bought that Bobcat out back. It’s a long story, but let’s just say . . . I lost a bet.”
He winks and follows the rest of his party to the lounge bar with Ellen, and I head back out into the snow to help Shelly with the luggage. As I do, I eye the faded edge of that old Bobcat poking around the corner of the lodge.
Hank had supplied the money for that?
Gran was full of surprises . . . and I doubt I’ll ever learn them all.
Judging from the heft of the money in my pocket, I’m sure I’ll be having a very happy holiday. Perhaps even a Louis Vuitton–sized holiday. My smile widens as I join Shelly.
She instantly narrows her eyes, pausing as she loads luggage onto the trolley.
“Why are you smiling? If you think you get Josh for the week, you’re wrong. I already called him.”
I don’t want Josh. He likely has too big of a chip on his shoulder for my taste, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I play along.
“You can’t call someone unless I can hear it,” I tell her, feigning indignance. “Otherwise, it doesn’t count.”
“Piper Millicent McCauley,” she says seriously, full-naming me. “I called him. Did you see the cheekbones on that guy?”
I shake my head. “No. I guess I missed them while he was sticking his nose in the air to pout.”
“He’s a bit spoiled,” Shelly acknowledges. “But that’s to be expected with someone that rich. He can hardly help it.”
“I’ve known lots of rich people who aren’t like that,” I tell her. “You can do better.”
“I’m not marrying the guy. I just want him this week. Do you concede?” Shelly’s red eyebrow raises as she waits. I nod.
“Shelly, when have you ever known me to hook up with a guest? Go ahead, I’ll wait while you think.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Shel, when we say we’re full-service, we don’t want there to be misunderstandings.” She laughs, and I can see my breath in the air as we push the heavy trolley up to the four-car garage. I tap in the code and wait as a door opens. The warmth hits my face immediately.
“Lord, it’s cold this weekend,” I say absently, as we cross through to the back entrance to unload.
“It’s gonna get down into the negatives,” Shelly answers. “I already warned the Nortons.”
“Good. They’ve got to be prepared. Hypothermia could set in in a matter of minutes if they don’t pay attention to what we tell them. Make sure they pack provisions . . . heated pads for gloves and feet, flares, et cetera. Who’s taking them out?”
“Pete was going to,” she answers. “But they changed their mind and want to be self-led. Mr. Norton has been here so many times, your gran would’ve said it’s okay.”
She’s right. Gran had faith in the regulars, the ones who returned year after year. But even still, something feels wrong in the air tonight. Whether it’s the enormous yellow moon that hangs close to the horizon or the nearly starless sky . . . something feels amiss, almost eerie.
“Can’t you feel that?” I ask her. “It’s like . . . electricity in the air. Something feels off. I don’t know . . . I think maybe Pete should take them.”
She shakes her head. “It’s just the full moon, weirdo. The pull of gravity or some crap. More babies get born during full moons. And more crazies get taken to the emergency room.”
“Exactly,” I tell her. “We don’t want anyone having to get medevaced. That would not help us solidify our reputation without Gran.”
Shelly turns to me and squeezes my arms lightly. “Piper, I know you’re worried. But Great Expectations has a sterling reputation. The clients here have seen you every year for a long time. They trust you . . . even without Marina.” Her normally sharp eyes soften. “You’re doing great, babe. Truly.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Some days, I still feel like I’m in shock and I’m just stumbling through. I worry that people will notice I’m just phoning it in.”
“You’re not phoning it in,” she argues. “You just feel like you are. You’re amazing at your job, and everyone knows it.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I heard Dan tell Pete the other day that he thinks I should’ve taken more time off to grieve.”
Shelly roll her eyes. “Dan always has great advice for everyone else. Yet you notice that he’s a lifelong grumpy bachelor who lives in a one-room cabin in the woods like the Unabomber.”
I have to laugh. “He even kinda looks like that guy,” I tell her. We giggle together. “But, he’s the best mechanic around, and he knows this area like the back of his hand. I’ll put up with his . . . eccentricities.”
“That’s one word for it,” Shelly mutters. We giggle again. “He’s a million years old. I don’t know why your gran kept him so long.”
“He’s got a good heart,” I tell her. “Somewhere in there.”
“Deep in there.” She nods.
“And he’s just always been so loyal to Gran. He took it hard when she died, so I know that he does have a heart in there.”
“He was always good to your gran,” Shel replies. “Do you think they ever hooked up?”
The thought is mortifying. “No,” I say stiffly. “Ew.”
Shelly shrugs. “I’m just saying. They were about the same age, I think, although it’s hard to tell now.” She shivers briefly. “And this is Alaska. Maybe at some point they just got lonely and—”
“Shut. It. I just threw up in my mouth.”
She giggles.
“Besides. She only loved my grandfather her entire life. I think he was even her first love. She never stopped loving him. Even after he died.”
Shelly’s face softens. “They really did have an amazing love story. She adored him.”
“So there were no Dan hookups.” We both pause to shiver. “Let’s talk about more important things. Should we grab a bottle of Merlot and head out to the loft, or . . . should we grab the tequila and sit in the hot tub? I kinda feel like soaking this day off.”