As far as Sorrow was concerned, Caltrans—aka the California Department of Transportation—were the unsung heroes of their area, plowing through the night, clearing rockslides, and managing avalanche control in the higher elevations. They might be experiencing the first real weather of the season, but it was nothing compared to what Caltrans could handle.
“It’s not the snow,” Edith said. “There’s something blocking the road. ”
What was she supposed to do about something blocking the road? Why did everything fall on her shoulders? Why couldn’t her mother call Caltrans? Better yet, why wasn’t her sister around to enjoy this indentured servitude, having to deal with things like ironing the tavern’s tablecloths? Or how about her brother, for that matter?
She felt a pang of guilt at that last thought. BJ was deployed in Afghanistan…ironing was a walk in the park compared to what he was going through.
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll call Caltrans. ”
“Maybe you should call Damien. ”
Sorrow hesitated, reluctant to ask for his help on this one, especially since she’d been having inappropriate thoughts about another man. She felt guilty about Billy and heating things up in the kitchen—because the things she wanted to heat up had nothing to do with food. “Caltrans will take care of it. ”
“Please,” Mom pleaded. “It’s just that, I think Damien would be able to call someone in charge over there and get it cleared faster than you could. ”
She turned off the iron, defeated. It was unlike Mom to get this impassioned about something. “Okay, sure. I’ll call Damien. ” She reached over to unplug it—the way her luck was going, the whole lodge might burn down otherwise. She edged past her mother in the doorway in search of the phone.
Edith followed right on her heels. “This is very important, Sorrow. ”
She had to chuckle at the uncharacteristic intensity. “I said I’m on it, Mom. ”
“I’m going to present your letters to the historical society. Marlene thinks that it might be just the thing to breathe some life into this town. ”
“Good,” she said distractedly. Girding herself, she dialed and put a hand up to signal quiet.
Unfortunately, she didn’t need to keep quiet for long. Damien was in a meeting and not to be disturbed. Sorrow had a good guess what the meeting was about, and if her hunch was right, he’d be unavailable for some time. Simmons Timber was ready to thin several overstocked acres, clearing debris in a fire-prevention effort, a huge concern in the Sierras. The problem was, his father was trying to use the program as an opportunity to clear more acreage than necessary.
The stance felt a bit uncharacteristic for the kindly Dabney Simmons, but she supposed you didn’t get to be rich without being aware of the bottom line. And for a timber company in a paperless era, that bottom line was getting progressively smaller. As a result, father and son were butting heads more often than not, with Damien increasingly outspoken about the responsibility they owed to the environment, while Dabney was preoccupied only with keeping food on his employees’ plates.
“He’s unavailable, and…oh, crap. ” Sorrow shut her eyes as she hung up, turning her head heavenward to take a deep breath. A road closure had much bigger implications than her mom missing the historical society meeting. If their road was closed, nobody could drive to the lodge or tavern. It would mean a day’s business lost. “Crap,” she repeated vehemently. “We’ve got two groups of hunters coming in tonight, and I already bought a few sides of salmon to serve in the tavern. ”
“Well Sully can’t cook it,” Edith said. “He hasn’t even made it in yet. That fool man insists on riding a motorcycle at his age. ”
“He drives the Jeep in this weather, Mom. ”
“Well, what are we going to do?” There was an edge to her mother’s voice that she didn’t often hear. “I don’t want your father getting upset. And I especially don’t want him going out in the car to check on it himself. ”
Sorrow grabbed her coat and scarf from a hook in the mudroom off the garage. “Don’t borrow trouble. I’ll check on it and see what’s going on. Dad’s still watching the headlines—he won’t even know I’m gone. ” Her father’s CNN addiction came in handy at times like these. The constant hum of the television was aggravating, but she knew he was safely ensconced in his den, apart from the
lodge’s public area.
She was slipping on her snow boots when she heard the main entry door open. It was a slow creak followed by a tentative knock—someone polite enough to realize that, even though it was a lodge, a family lived there, too.
“Anybody home?” a man called.
She recognized Billy’s voice, and found herself putting a hand to her hair. She’d tugged it back that morning into a messy ponytail. So much for looking presentable.
Why should she care anyway? He was just a man like any other.
But he wasn’t just a man. He was Billy.
She pulled out the elastic and gave her head a shake as she finger combed some life into her waves. And then she went out to greet him. “Hi, Billy. ”
Something in his face softened. “Hi, Sorrow. ” His eyes went to her snow boots. “You know your road”—he stopped, seeing the look on her face—“you do know. ”
“Yup. The road is closed. ”
He nodded, frowning. “There are signs posted, but somehow nobody notified Caltrans. I called it in, and it should be cleared by this evening. ”