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“See that red roof over there?” He pointed toward the middle of town, and Ally couldn’t help but notice the rectangular-shaped building situated roughly in the center. It seemed to be a pretty big place by small-town standards, certainly in relation to Saltdove, the remote village she’d grown up in, where there were exactly two “large” buildings, neither of which would ever be described as such.
“It would be difficult to miss. Let’s walk?”
Flynn nodded and took off at an unhurried pace. “This kind of evening makes me remember why I love it here.”
Ally agreed it was gorgeous. She’d only visited Rankins a few times before moving here, and she enjoyed the walk, seeing the tiny historic town through Flynn’s enthusiastic eyes as he pointed out businesses and landmarks, adding fun facts and anecdotes.
And clearly, Flynn wasn’t the only resident proud of their little town. Evidence of Rankins’s heritage was everywhere. They passed old fishing boats and equipment, vintage logging and mining tools, all strategically displayed and interspersed with newer, attractive sculptures and wood carvings. Along with the eclectic mix of building styles, the layout provided a pleasing glimpse of the town’s interesting and varied past.
Flynn said, “So, in case you don’t already know, the Cozy Caribou is an institution here.”
She gestured for him to go on.
“Half bar, half restaurant and all-around community gathering place, it can accommodate pretty much any event you can imagine—concerts, reunion s, receptions, parties and meetings. They have karaoke nights and even an occasional poetry reading. Food is simple, home cooked and across-the-board fantastic, including the best fish and chips on the entire planet, and freshly brewed root beer that will make you forget your own name.”
Ally grinned. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
Flynn opened the door for her, and the second she stepped inside she knew it was true. The tension of the day began to recede as welcoming sounds bombarded them from all directions: laughter mixed with music while the slide-and-chime of dish on dish was accented by clinking silverware. Across the wide space and off to one side were a couple of pool tables. At the far end of the room a game of darts was in full swing. A group of women was seated at a large table nearby.
“Ah,” he said, following her gaze. “Friends of mine. Come on—I’ll introduce you to some of the nicest people. Most of them will be at the party Saturday, too.”
They approached the group and Flynn turned on his grin, gesturing around helplessly. “Uh-oh, I think I’m walking into a girls’ night thing here, aren’t I?”
A pretty blonde answered. “Well, it is girls’ night, but you can join us because you’re not one of our men and only if you don’t speak about any of them tonight. I happen to have argued with mine, and I don’t want his name mentioned.”
She reached out a hand toward Ally. “Hi, I’m Emily.”
Ally shook it. “Hi, Emily. Ally.”
Flynn draped an arm over Ally’s shoulder. “So, everyone, like Ally just said, this is Ally Mowak.” He started with the opposite side of the table where two look-alike women sat side by side. “Ally, this is Hannah and Shay. Sisters, in case you couldn’t tell.”
To the women, he added, “Ally is coming to Iris’s party with me this weekend.” He turned back to Ally. “Hannah owns and manages Snowy Sky Resort and JB Heli-Ski. Shay is the owner of the Faraway Inn and Restaurant.”
Anyone would guess the women were related; they both had long brown hair and nearly identical golden-brown eyes, over which the same sweeping brows arched gently. Matching smiles accented sculpted jawlines. Something seemed vaguely familiar about them, yet she was sure she’d never met the women.
Flynn was gesturing toward the other side of the table. “And this is Adele and Janie. Adele is Shay and Hannah’s cousin and manages the Faraway Restaurant. Janie owns a knitting business and simultaneously wrangles five children, while Emily here—” he indicated the woman she’d already met “—is president of the Tourism Bureau.” Next, he pointed to the woman seated beside Janie. “This is Laurel, owner and editor of the town’s newspaper, the Rankins Press.”
