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Lately, there was a push to open up the old abandoned copper mining site to tourists with an interest in pioneer history. The National Park Service was considering taking over that project. Apparently the town was hotly divided over that idea, since it would bring even more tourists, for better or worse.
Most of Firelight Ridge’s lodges and restaurants operated only in the summer, which was the only time they could make any money. They were all still closed at this time of year. But Molly hoped she could find a room at the Lamplight Motel, despite the fact that they’d answered her email with only a cryptic, “no arrivals after dark.” Technically, they were open, and how many guests could they really have this time of year? Maybe they just didn’t like modern forms of communication. Maybe they missed the old Fangtooth Gulch days.
Fangtooth. Seriously? Personally, Molly thought the marketing change a good one. Fangtooth sounded bloody, which it probably was. Maybe people tended to fall to their deaths as they trekked across this forbidding terrain. Lila, if you aren’t here, you’re going to have a lot to answer for. Same as if you are here.
After what seemed like both an eternity and a dazzling flash of a spectacle, the tiny plane crested over a ridge and up ahead, Molly saw the scattering of buildings that must be Firelight Ridge. Most of the structures were centered in a valley between one ridge and the next, but the lower slopes of both were peppered with more buildings. A river ran along the edge of the town, but she guessed it was mostly frozen based on the fact that it unfurled like a sparkling white ribbon, almost festive as it curved a wide swath around the settlement.
“Recommend you don’t go swimming just yet,” said Sam dryly as he nosed the plane downwards. “Or skating, for that matter. Best to give that river a wide berth until it thaws completely.”
“Darn it, I guess I’ll have to cross tubing off my list.”
“Look at you, feeling better already.”
With surprise, Molly realized he was right. Her stomach no longer felt as if it wanted to pitch itself out the window, and her hands didn’t ache from holding such a tight grip on the grab bar.
“The sight of civilization will do that to you, I guess.”
He snorted. “Not often that Firelight Ridge gets called a name like that.”
“It’s not a bad word.”
“Around here, it’s marginal.”
“Scratch the surface and it’s still Fangtooth?”
He laughed, a nice rumbling sound that she didn’t mind at all. “You catch on quick. Put it this way. It’s civilization on the edge, a few disagreements away from reverting back to the wild pioneer days.”
“You could say the same thing about my former firm, so I think I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t follow up with more questions, luckily, since she hadn’t planned to tell him anything about herself. He was too busy lining up the plane with the thread of dirt road that…Jesus, was that the runway?
“Where’s the tower? Don’t you have to communicate with someone to land?”
“Yeah, I should call the Caribou Grill and make sure they have a burger ready for me,” he drawled. “Now if you could dial back the panic and let me do my job, that would be spectacular.”
She had to physically press her lips together to hold back the shriek that wanted to wrench from her chest as the ground came closer and closer. She closed her eyes, then realized that was worse, opened them again, decided that was worse, and finally settled on a blinking pattern that turned the whole process into a stop-motion horror movie.
One with a happy ending, fortunately, as the wheels gently kissed the runway, the plane settled onto the ground, and they rattled to a stop next to a small shed-like structure with solar panels mounted on the roof.
An older man in a sturdy Carhartt canvas jacket stood outside the building, hands tucked into his pockets.
Molly noticed that Sam tensed at the sight of him. Something was going on there, but she didn’t need to make it her business.
“Is there any chance that’s a cab driver?” she asked him as he cut the power to the engine and the props stopped spinning.
“No,” he said shortly. “If you need a ride, I’ll drop you in town.”
She bristled at his suddenly brusque manner. “I’m sure I can find something.”
“I’m very sure I’m your only option.”
“Except him,” she pointed out.
“You’d be better off walking.” He was busy turning off switches and going through a post-flight checklist.
“How far is it to town?”
“Couple miles. Last time I was here, it was plowed, so there’s that. On the other hand…” He glanced down at her boots, and she sighed. A couple of miles was nothing to her, and her best and second-best running shoes were in her bag, but that reminded her that she had a bag, and didn’t want to wheel it two miles into town.
