dreams.
She picked up her guitar, played a few scales.
On the table, her cell phone rang. Putting the guitar aside, she picked it up. She didn’t recognize the caller. “Hello?”
“Hey, Emma, it’s Nicole.”
Oh, Nicole. Emma had finally read her e-mail and was still trying to figure out how to say no.
“Did you get my e-mail?”
Lying would be so easy sometimes. But it wouldn’t help her here. “I did. But . . . I don’t think it’ll work, Nicole.”
“Please, please help me out, Emma. Our entire ensemble has backed out—they don’t want to drive all the way to Deep Haven with the storm we just had. I need someone who can handle everything—the wedding, the reception. Please, please? For me?”
Wedding and reception. That could mean enough money to cover the bar fight bill and even another month’s rent. By then, maybe she’d find the right words.
“When is it?”
“Next weekend. At Caribou Ridges Resort.”
Technically not in Deep Haven.
“Fine. Okay. Do you have anything special you want me to play?”
“Aerosmith’s ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’?”
“Yeah, of course. Although I’m thinking that might need more than just my guitar.”
Maybe Ritchie could fill in—he gigged now and again as a keyboardist. And she could ask Tim to help on drums. He probably knew the truth about the fight.
“Oh, Emma, you’re the best. Thanks so much! I’ll see if I can track down a drummer and a keyboardist—I saw Kyle Hueston back in town. He used to play in a band with Jason. Maybe—”
Shoot. What was with this guy? A dry spell for her entire life, and suddenly it was raining Kyle Hueston everywhere she looked.
“I’ll find my own drummer—”
“Don’t worry; I’ll ask him myself. I saw him yesterday at the donut shop—or I guess it’s the cupcake shop now. He was sitting in the booth with the other deputies. He looked downright hot in his uniform.”
“Thanks for that, Nicole. But really—”
“I don’t mind asking. Thanks again, Emma. You rock.”
Nicole hung up and Emma dropped her head back on the sofa. Perfect.
When hadn’t Kyle Hueston looked hot? She’d never missed a home basketball game when Kyle played. Would wait for him to pass her in the hallway on the way to Mr. Dorrin’s social studies class.
Kyle could still make her forget where she was . . . and where she was going.
But he planned on planting himself in Deep Haven. She had no plans to plant herself anywhere near it.
Emma got up, put her guitar away, then grabbed a jacket and opened the door to the tiny balcony off their apartment. The city lights sparkled, red and white, constellations against the galaxy of the city. She could see her breath and drew in the crisp air. Sitting on a metal chair, she propped her feet on the railing and leaned back, searching for stars.
In Deep Haven, the stars seemed so close she could breathe them in, feel them sparkle inside her. She could trace the Milky Way and sometimes even spot the undulating ribbons of pink, lavender, and turquoise from an aurora borealis.
Not here in the city, however. The bright cityscape ate away at the darkness, the stars dim and hidden. Perhaps it was simply too early to see them, the night still so young, but nothing of hope twinkled in the sky.
Find the lyrics, and I’ll bet you can figure out a way to go home again.
If only it were that easy.
Eli wanted to track down Derek Nelson and wring his neck. Two days and Lee’s drive still hadn’t been plowed? He saw the track marks where Derek had parked his father’s Subaru down by the road, the footprints from where he hiked to the house and back.
But no tire tracks leading out from the driveway. Which meant Lee had been snowed in since the storm hit.
Yes, he’d kill Derek when the kid returned home from wherever he’d run off to. Probably shooting hoops down at the community center.
Kirby liked to hang out there too—might be there now if he wasn’t worried about his
She picked up her guitar, played a few scales.
On the table, her cell phone rang. Putting the guitar aside, she picked it up. She didn’t recognize the caller. “Hello?”
“Hey, Emma, it’s Nicole.”
Oh, Nicole. Emma had finally read her e-mail and was still trying to figure out how to say no.
“Did you get my e-mail?”
Lying would be so easy sometimes. But it wouldn’t help her here. “I did. But . . . I don’t think it’ll work, Nicole.”
“Please, please help me out, Emma. Our entire ensemble has backed out—they don’t want to drive all the way to Deep Haven with the storm we just had. I need someone who can handle everything—the wedding, the reception. Please, please? For me?”
Wedding and reception. That could mean enough money to cover the bar fight bill and even another month’s rent. By then, maybe she’d find the right words.
“When is it?”
“Next weekend. At Caribou Ridges Resort.”
Technically not in Deep Haven.
“Fine. Okay. Do you have anything special you want me to play?”
“Aerosmith’s ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’?”
“Yeah, of course. Although I’m thinking that might need more than just my guitar.”
Maybe Ritchie could fill in—he gigged now and again as a keyboardist. And she could ask Tim to help on drums. He probably knew the truth about the fight.
“Oh, Emma, you’re the best. Thanks so much! I’ll see if I can track down a drummer and a keyboardist—I saw Kyle Hueston back in town. He used to play in a band with Jason. Maybe—”
Shoot. What was with this guy? A dry spell for her entire life, and suddenly it was raining Kyle Hueston everywhere she looked.
“I’ll find my own drummer—”
“Don’t worry; I’ll ask him myself. I saw him yesterday at the donut shop—or I guess it’s the cupcake shop now. He was sitting in the booth with the other deputies. He looked downright hot in his uniform.”
“Thanks for that, Nicole. But really—”
“I don’t mind asking. Thanks again, Emma. You rock.”
Nicole hung up and Emma dropped her head back on the sofa. Perfect.
When hadn’t Kyle Hueston looked hot? She’d never missed a home basketball game when Kyle played. Would wait for him to pass her in the hallway on the way to Mr. Dorrin’s social studies class.
Kyle could still make her forget where she was . . . and where she was going.
But he planned on planting himself in Deep Haven. She had no plans to plant herself anywhere near it.
Emma got up, put her guitar away, then grabbed a jacket and opened the door to the tiny balcony off their apartment. The city lights sparkled, red and white, constellations against the galaxy of the city. She could see her breath and drew in the crisp air. Sitting on a metal chair, she propped her feet on the railing and leaned back, searching for stars.
In Deep Haven, the stars seemed so close she could breathe them in, feel them sparkle inside her. She could trace the Milky Way and sometimes even spot the undulating ribbons of pink, lavender, and turquoise from an aurora borealis.
Not here in the city, however. The bright cityscape ate away at the darkness, the stars dim and hidden. Perhaps it was simply too early to see them, the night still so young, but nothing of hope twinkled in the sky.
Find the lyrics, and I’ll bet you can figure out a way to go home again.
If only it were that easy.
Eli wanted to track down Derek Nelson and wring his neck. Two days and Lee’s drive still hadn’t been plowed? He saw the track marks where Derek had parked his father’s Subaru down by the road, the footprints from where he hiked to the house and back.
But no tire tracks leading out from the driveway. Which meant Lee had been snowed in since the storm hit.
Yes, he’d kill Derek when the kid returned home from wherever he’d run off to. Probably shooting hoops down at the community center.
Kirby liked to hang out there too—might be there now if he wasn’t worried about his
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