Rex stepped closer. “I know this may seem unconventional, but if you’re going to stay here, we need to take some security precautions. We rented the inn for privacy, and we can’t take any chances.”
“Of course,” the man said, nudging his bag toward Rex. “You can check our things.”
“And we’ll need to check you both as well,” Rex said.
“Is that really necessary?” Mara gaped at the suggestion.
“Unfortunately, it is.” Rex nodded toward Jason and Olive.
Jason patted down the man, and Olive took the woman, offering an apology as she did so. Rex checked out their backpack himself.
The two didn’t have any weapons on them.
“I’m going to grab more blankets,” Warren said. “I have some extras in my suite.”
“And I’ll fix something warm to drink,” Mara added. “And see if I can heat up some stew.”
They hurried off, their footsteps echoing in the space.
The pregnant woman’s breathing had started to slow, color returning to her cheeks in the firelight. The man squeezed her hand, his relief visible.
Olive forced a small smile, but her mind wouldn’t quiet.
Every instinct she had screamed that this night had just taken another turn.
Because whoever these strangers were, they weren’t part of the plan.
And nothing about Project Frostbite had room for coincidence.
The newcomers sat near the fire.
Mara handed them both mugs of warm tea. She’d also heated some stew, and steam rose from the crocks on the coffee table in front of them. Thankfully, Mara and Warren were well prepared and had more than one camp stove with propane burners to use.
Warren returned from the hallway, arms full of blankets. “Room’s ready. It’s the one closest to the great room—and the fire. Warmest in the house.”
“Thank you,” the man said, his voice still unsteady. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Mara gave him a sympathetic smile. “You didn’t. You did the right thing coming here.”
Rex stood nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Why don’t you tell us who you are?”
The man nodded quickly. “Of course. I’m Bradford. This is my wife, Rachel. We’re from Asheville. We were on our way to visit family in Sevierville for Christmas.”
Olive arched a brow. “In the middle of a storm?”
Bradford gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “Yeah. We left early this morning. Weather wasn’t supposed to hit until tonight, but it turned faster than they predicted. The roads started icing, and then—well . . .” He gestured helplessly. “We slid off near a turn. The car’s stuck good.”
Rachel gave him a tired smile. “We sat there for a while hoping someone would come by, but it got too cold. Bradford decided to venture out and look for help—I was a nervous wreck when he left me. But he returned about an hour later and said he saw a sign for this inn. It was risky, but we decided to walk. It beat freezing to death in the car.”
Her voice was soft, melodic, but strained with exhaustion that ran deeper than the day’s ordeal.
Jason leaned against the stone hearth, his gaze steady. “How far along are you?”
Rachel placed a hand over her belly and smiled faintly. “Eight and a half months.”
“Your due date?” Olive asked.
“Christmas Eve,” Rachel said with a soft smile. “We thought the timing was sweet.”
