Wild At Heart (Wild 2)

“No.” I say more abruptly than I intend, but Wild—and Wren Fletcher—did not fail. “My father had terminal cancer. He decided to sell.”

Sympathy passes through Teddy’s blue eyes. “Well, we get all kinds of people coming through here. We’ll be sure to pass along your hubby’s name if they mention lookin’ for a ride somewhere.”

“That would be amazing.”

“Sure, sure. And Toby here also works on planes so if you’re ever in need of a mechanic, you’ve got one right down the road.”

“Really?” Running six kilometers has paid off. “Because we have Phil’s Beaver and it needs some work if we want to get it in the air again.” I suppress my goofy grin as I realize I’ve begun talking about planes by their model, as if it comes naturally to me. I remember a time when everyone around me did it, and it sounded weird.

“Well, good, then. Glad we can help each other out. That’s how it works around here.”

This is going so well, I decide to forge on. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d love to leave some pamphlets here when I get them. Or even just put one up on that bulletin board.”

“Sure, sure. You go on right ahead, dear. That’s what it’s there for.” Teddy waves a hand toward it, then turns his attention to Toby, patting the counter. “Hunter called. He’s bringin’ his machine in. His engine died on him, out on the middle of the lake. They had to drag him all the way home.”

“I guess I’ll go stoke the fire in the garage. Get it warmed up.” Toby studies his cracked hands. “You sure you don’t want a coffee, Calla?”

“No. I should get back.” Jonah will be calling soon.

“’Kay. Come by tomorrow and I’ll look at that engine for you. Probably just needs some regular maintenance. Phil was never good at keeping up with that.”

Teddy’s cheeks lift with his jovial smile. “You swing by whenever you want, dear. I know Muriel would love to meet you. She and Colette used to spend a lot of time together, mucking around in the garden. And bring that pilot of yours here on Friday night! It’d be good to meet him.” Teddy waggles his eyebrows. “It’s ladies’ night.”

“Ladies’ night,” I echo, eying the giant stuffed fish on the wall next to a sign that reads “I love a big rack,” before meeting Toby’s gaze.

“There’ll be exactly four old drunk

men here on Friday,” he confirms soberly. “No ladies.”

“One lady,” Teddy corrects him with an arched brow. “Your mother is always here.”

“Except she ain’t no lady,” Toby counters. “She’ll tell you that herself.”

“Yeah, fine. No ladies,” Teddy agrees with a chuckle. “Until May, that is, when this place wakes up. Anyway, you’re welcome any time. And here …” He grabs a scrap of paper and a pen and slaps it down in front of his son, stabbing the counter with his stubby index finger. “You should have our number, in case of anything. This is a tight-knit community. We rely on each other whenever there’s a need. Make sure you go out and meet your neighbors.”

“We’ve already met Roy.” I school my expression as best I can.

“Oh boy.” Teddy gives me a knowing look. “Dealing with that guy is like flipping a coin and getting the wrong side nine out of ten times. Just remember, his bark is worse than his bite.”

“His bark’s pretty bad,” Toby says, scribbling his number down.

“Yeah, Muriel and him have gone at it a few times. They haven’t shot each other yet, but there’s still time for that. He’s not too keen on the tourism industry and …” Teddy waves aimlessly around him. “Here we are, survivin’ on it.”

No wonder we’ve already started off on Roy’s bad side. A good chunk of The Yeti’s business will come from catering to tourists. Phil must have mentioned our plans to Roy during their livestock trade discussions.

I accept the slip of paper that Toby passes over with a smile. “Thanks.”

“Uh-huh. Any issues, anything you guys need, you give us a call, dear.” Teddy sees my bear spray and my bells and nods to himself. “Can never be too prepared.”

“Right?” I’m beaming from this pleasant and advantageous introduction as I take one last long look around the Ale House, in all its mismatched glory. The place feels far less empty and uncomfortable now than it did when I walked in. These neighbors, though six kilometers away, more than make up for one curmudgeon.

“I’ll be by tomorrow morning with one of the snow machines,” I promise, heading for the door, my eyes grazing the antlers mounted to a plaque on the far wall. A thought strikes me. “Hey, you know what you guys could use in here?”

Teddy and Toby both frown and, while they look nothing alike, there is a definite family resemblance in that expression.

I grin. “Some animal heads for your walls.”

Chapter Fourteen