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Shechatted withJeffa little more as they finished their drinks, and once her mug was empty, she placed it on the trayAutumnhad left on the large table in front of the couch.
“I’mgoing to head up to bed,” she said to her new friend, and she realized then that that’s exactly how she was thinking ofAutumn—like her new friend.Shecouldn’t remember the last time she’d connected with someone so easily.Everyonein the city was so closed off, so absorbed in their own lives and problems.Toowrapped up in their own lives and ambitions to ever look outwardly at those around them.
Autumnnodded, sending her a warm smile. “Sleepwell,Hazel.”
Shemade her way back up to her room and flicked on the light, casting a soft, warm glow around the room.Thefloorboards creaked quietly beneath her feet as she padded across the room to turn on the gas fireplace.Itflared to life and she smiled.Shemoved to close the curtains, and then paused.Normally, she’d never leave the curtains open after dark, but here, she wanted to let the morning light in, and besides, it’s not like anyone could see her up here.
Shechanged into her favorite pair of comfy pajamas and then dimmed the lights and climbed into bed, leaving the fireplace on for now, enjoying the play of light and shadow it created from the corner and the gentle warmth that it was spreading through her room.Hereyelids were heavy and she didn’t feel like reading, but she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to the day yet, so she curled up in bed and turned on theTV.Itwas a smartTV, with access to multiple streaming services, and she was drawn to the ones she didn’t have.Sheopened upDisneyPlusand immediately knew what to watch, tucking the blankets around her as the opening strains ofHocusPocusplayed.Shecouldn’t remember the last time she’d watched this movie, but it had been one of her favorites growing up.
Sheglanced over at her nightstand, where the slim volume ofTheLegendofGossamerFallssat on top of the brick that wasTheMistsofAvalon.
Funnyhow she’d had to come to a new place to start finding her old self again.
SIX
Thenext morning,Adamarrived at theShephardInnbright and early, as usual.He’dalways been a morning person, and during the time he’d been a writer, he’d gotten used to getting up at fiveAMto get his words in before heading to the hotel.Bythe time he arrived around 7:30 or 8, his father had already been there for at least an hour, going through his usual morning routine as the hotel’s manager.
Thingswere different now—his father was gone andAdamwas the manager, and he hadn’t written anything in a long time—but he was so used to getting up early that it was ingrained in him.
Itwas shortly after six when he stepped inside the quiet lobby, turning on lights as he moved toward the front desk.Jamie, the older woman who worked the desk at night, yawned and scrubbed a hand over her face, smiling wearily at the sight ofAdam.
“Quietnight?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Nota peep.”
Hesmiled at her and tipped his head toward the door. “I’mhere now.Iknow you’re on until seven, but you can head home.I’llsign you out at seven.”
Shesmiled gratefully and laid a hand on his forearm. “You’reone of the good ones,AdamShephard.Justlike your dad.”
Adam’ssmile faltered slightly at the mention of his father.Hehated how raw that still was.Hatedhow stuck he felt in his grief.
“Getsome sleep,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat.Jamieseemed oblivious to the effect of her words on him, and she yawned again.
“Gladly.Seeyou tonight.”Sheworked the front desk from eleven at night until seven in the morningSundaytoThursday, andAdamwas grateful for her and how reliable she was.Overnighthelp wasn’t easy to find in a small town, but the schedule suitedJamiejust fine.Shespent her nights reading and knitting, went home and slept, and then watched her grandkids after school.
Shesigned off the computer and then gathered her things, flicking a tired wave over her shoulder.Adamlogged himself on and took a quick look at the day ahead.Itwas going to be a quiet one, with no checkouts and no new arrivals.Hechecked his email quickly for anything urgent, and then began his daily walkthrough of the hotel, starting with the lounge.Hearranged a few of the throw pillows on the leather sofas, straightened a picture on the mantel.Heloved this room, with its warm wood beams crisscrossing the ceiling, the gently worn leather furniture, the wall of books.
Hefrowned when he noticed two books sitting on a side table near one of the arm chairs, stacked haphazardly on top of each other.Hisfrown deepened when he saw what they were, the familiar covers making him swallow hard.Hepicked the first one up, tracing his fingers over the embossed lettering.
TheWickedSeason:ARobertBradyMystery
ByAdamShephard
Hethumbed through the pages, the scent of paper and ink wafting up.Theurge to sit down and open it, to let his eyes rove over the words he’d written almost ten years ago, was strong.Buthe knew what lay down that road.Regretand bitterness, a feeling of failure.Thedeath of a dream.Hopedashed, and a passion lost.
Hecleared his throat again, and without looking at the second book, he slipped them back on the shelves.Maybesomeone else would read and enjoy them, even if all he saw was disappointment when he looked at them.
Pushingall of it aside, he stepped out of the lounge and continued down the hall toward the restaurant at the back of the hotel.Thedining room had originally functioned as a greenhouse or conservatory, and it still had the same curved glass ceiling.Thesun wasn’t up yet, but the sky was lightening, morphing from black to a soft blueish gray.Thechairs were still stacked on top of the tables and the lights were off, butAdamcould hear the sounds of softly clanking pots and pans from the back.Hemoved between the round tables and to the swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
LoganHuxley, known by almost everyone asHux, was the restaurant’s head chef, andAdamwas surprised to see him in so early.Henormally left the breakfast shift to his staff and handled the lunch and dinner rushes himself.
“You’rein early,” he said, leaning against the wall.
Huxshrugged, then shoved up his sleeves, exposing the colorful tattoos on both of his forearms. “Couldn’tsleep.FiguredImight as well go do something useful.”Heheld up the gleaming copper pan in his hand, clearly the recipient of a vigorous scouring.
Adamtilted his head, studying the slightly younger man.He’dknownHuxsince they were kids.He’dbeen best friends withAdam’sbrotherFinnever since kindergarten.Hewondered if he heard fromFinnmore often than they did, but he figuredHuxwould tell him if he had something to share aboutFinn.
“Everythingokay?”
