Page 98 of Where Roads Lead

Elsie

Considering the ashes of the life I’d left behind, it was refreshing that the biggest problem I faced in Colbridge was forgetting to buy Halloween candy.

A big perk of my new life also happened to be having someone I could call to remedy the situation.

“Hi, Elsie,” he said before I even uttered a word.

“Aw, you have my number saved,” I cooed. “Cute.”

I could practically hear the eye roll through the phone.

“You don’t know that,” he responded dryly. “Maybe I just recognized it.”

“Even cuter.” I grinned, even though he couldn’t see me. “Memorizing phone numbers is a big deal in this day and age.”

“What do you need, Elsie?”

“Maybe I’m just calling to wish you a Happy Halloween, William. Did you ever consider that?”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” I lied. “And also…IneedtwobagsofHalloweencandy.”

He snorted.

“Look, I’d go myself, but I’m sort of in the middle of something.” I stared down at my hand full of pumpkin guts before glancing at the clock above the stove. “And I know you’re probably leaving the café right about now, so—”

“Aw, you know my schedule,” he mocked my former words. “Cute.”

“Please, Will,” I begged. “This is the first Halloween in years that I’ll get to actually pass out candy to trick-or-treaters now that I’m not in some fourth-floor apartment, and I’m really looking forward to it. Basically, all of my Halloween hopes and dreams are riding on you.”

“On me, huh?”

“Never mind.” I huffed, tossing a handful of pumpkin innards onto the newspaper mat I’d made on the floor. “If you’re too busy—”

“Relax, Elsie. I’ll be there.”

“You will?” I breathed hopefully.

“Yeah,” he said. “So don’t go calling me Scrooge just yet.”

“Wrong holiday.” I snorted.

“Still applies,” he argued. “I’ll see you soon.”

I knew I’d become just another one of the townspeople who needed something from Will Hughes, but after moments like those, I could almost trick myself into thinking that maybe he didn’t mind.

I’d carved a very respectable Frankenstein by the time Will’s truck pulled into my driveway twenty minutes later, and was just setting it down on the front steps the moment he strode up the walkway.

“What’s that?” he asked, staring down at my creation.

My eyes shot to the two jumbo sized bags of candy in his hands, only lingering briefly on the forearms that were generously exposed by his rolled-up sleeves.

“A pumpkin,” I answered, quickly looking away.

“I meant, what’s on it?”

I stared at it with a frown.