Identity

Shaking her head, Morgan glanced at the back door camera. “I know. I don’t understand it, but I know you do.”

Spreading her hands, Audrey smiled at Morgan. “I got an alert last week and watched FedEx deliver a package to the front door. It’s like a secret window.”

“The sun’s fierce, the gardens are beautiful, that damn frog makes me smile every time I look at it, and we’re all going to get our party on. That’s a good deal, girls. Let’s embrace it.”



* * *



Morgan promised herself to do just that. Embrace it.

On a busy Friday night at Après, she enjoyed the work, the crowd, and looked forward to a Saturday hike, a Sunday gathering.

“We’re going to switch, Bailey.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I’ll take the backbar.”

“Oh, but—”

“I’m right here if you need help, but let’s see how it goes for an hour.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t say so if I weren’t.” Morgan nudged her forward, stepped back. “You’ve got the stick.”

And she did fine, just fine, so Morgan let the hour run to ninety minutes.

“That’s the way it’s done.”

“I forgot to be nervous.”

“You’ve only got a few weeks left before you go back to school, so let’s have you do two hours for your next shift with me. Now take a break. You earned it.”

Satisfying, she thought as she filled orders. Satisfying to teach somebody how to do a job, and do it well. Not for a career, not in Bailey’s case, but to earn a solid paycheck until she forged that career.

“You let her handle it.” Opal stopped by the bar. “You got out of her way and let her handle it. When I’m wrong about somebody or something, I say so right out loud. I had you wrong.”

“There might’ve been some of that on both sides.”

“Yeah, might’ve been. Two summer specials, fizzy water on ice, double Bombay tonic.”

“Coming right up.”

“I’ve got a nephew just turned twenty-one. He’s working in the Lodge kitchen the last six, seven months. Doesn’t much like it, but he works. If he wanted to train at the bar, would you take him on?”

“If Nell approves the change, I’ll take him on.”

“Good.”

She didn’t expect to see Miles until she got to his house, but he walked in at closing.

“Worked late.”

“I’ll say.”

“We’ll get your bag out of your car. You can ride with me.”

“Then my car’s here where I’m not.”

“We’ll get it tomorrow. You’ve got your hiking boots?”

“As requested.” She shut off the lights on what she considered an excellent shift. “I got a call from a friend today,” she told him as they walked out.

“Oh.”

“Sam. He and Nina … they’d gotten serious. He loved her, was on the brink of asking her to move in with him when it all happened.”

She stopped at her car, took out her bag.

“You’ve kept in touch?”

“Yeah, and he has dinner with Nina’s family at least once a month. He wanted me to know he’s met someone.”

In his car, he waited until she’d strapped in. “Is that a problem for you?”

“No. God, no. He’s been seeing her for a couple of months now, and it’s, well, gotten serious. So he wanted me to know. He’s a really good guy, Miles. I’m happy for him. It’s been nearly a year and a half—that hit me. It feels longer in some ways, then in others like yesterday. Her name’s Henna. She’s a paralegal. She has a cat named Suzie she spoils, likes old movies—like, really old black-and-white movies—and reading thrillers.”

“A lot of information,” Miles commented.

“Once he got my initial reaction he really went on and on about her. So I’m happy for him. Oh, she also skis, so he’s going to bring her up here next winter, stay at the resort, introduce us. God, I hope I like her. I’ll fake it if I don’t, but I hope I do.”

“You’re predisposed to like her, so unless she’s not anything like what he told you, you’ll like her. Any problems tonight?”

“The opposite of problems.” How she loved these late-night drives through the quiet dark while the world slept. The air blowing in the open windows, an owl calling somewhere deep in the trees.

“A busy summer Friday night,” she continued. “I took the backbar with Bailey for about an hour and a half, and she handled it. Oh, and I had my first repeater—I mean for me. This couple who stayed at the resort last March, back for a week with their son, his wife, and their two grandkids.”

“You remembered them?”

“Their faces. I blanked on the names, but I got the faces, so enough to say welcome back. And since they charged the drinks to the room, I could look up the names. James—Jim—and Tracey Lowe.”

“They’ve been coming twice a year since their son—that’s Manning—was in college. Manning met his wife, Gwen, at the resort on one of their summer trips. They got married here—sentimental. Their kids are Flynn—must be around six—and Haley, about four.”

As he pulled into the drive, she shook her head. “And I think I bank data. I got some of that when they came in for their nightcap.”

“The resort runs on loyalty and personalized service. The Lowes have been twice-a-year guests since I was in high school.”

As they walked to the door, Howl let out a trio of barks followed by his signature howl.

“Better than an alarm system, cameras included.”

“The offer to take him’s still open.”

When Miles opened the door, the dog stood, dancing in place, then rushed to Morgan.

“Did you miss me, did you? Yes, you did!” While she lavished Howl with love, Miles locked up for the night.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just this sweet dog.” And, tilting her head, gave Miles a sidelong look. “Maybe you.”

“The dog’s got his own bed.” So saying, he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder.

It made her laugh as Howl muttered and dashed for the steps in front of Miles. “Well, this is new.”

“Just getting you off your feet after a long shift.”

“Is that it? Most men would’ve gone for the romantic sweep instead of the over-the-shoulder.”

“I’m not most.”

“So I’ve noticed. You know, your house looks good even upside down.”

He carted her to the bedroom, where the light came from cloud-misted stars and a three-quarter moon. And dumped her on the bed, covered her with his body.

“How do you like it now?”

“I’ve grown fond of this particular view.”

As she studied him and he studied her, she ran her hands down his back, then up again.

“I like mine better.” Eyes still on hers, he brushed her mouth with the lightest kiss. “You’ve got a face.”

“I definitely have a face.”

“It’s a damn good face.” Now his mouth brushed hers, lingered a little longer. “I thought so the first time I saw it.”

“Behind the bar.”

“No, the first time. At your grandfather’s memorial.”

“Oh. I don’t think I saw you. Honestly, I’m not sure I saw anyone. It’s one big blur.”

“Everything showed on that face. The grief, the guilt, the wish you could go somewhere else, anywhere else, alone and deal with it. And I remember I wondered if I saw that because I felt exactly the same.”