Chapter 7

7

EMMA

Hunter was kind enough to offer me a ride into town this morning, and despite my reservations, I took him up on his offer. His truck is enormous, which makes sense. He’s a giant—well over six feet tall, maybe taller. I have to scale the side and use the step to slip inside his hand on my back. The spot where he touched me is warm, and I would be a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy that he was helping me.

The truck is a deep red, and the interior has a cloth nineties bench seat. His smell fills the oversized cab. It’s woodsy and masculine and comforting. Something about it has me pulling air in deeper as Hunter slides in on the driver’s side.

He points out his house. It's the only other one in our cul-de-sac if you can even call it that. It's more like a forest road with two cabins at the end. As we drive to the main road, he points left toward what he calls the Lodge, where he grew up. Then he turns the truck right where the main part of town is. The small road turns at a ninety, and just as we come around the bend, I see it—an idyllic-looking main street. The curb that splits traffic has large, full trees in the middle that provide a canopy to the number of small shops that fill the street.

“Wow,” I whisper under my breath. I don't miss Hunter turning his head slightly with a smirk and watching me as I take in Solaris Village —my new home .

Not two minutes later, he parked in front of a red brick building. “This is Nan’s Diner if you want something to eat. Or you can explore the shops. I need to handle some pack things this morning, but I’ll be back this afternoon, and we can head to the clinic and discuss your position and what you will need.”

I nod, slipping from his truck, fighting the urge to turn around and thank him or ask him to stay with me. My hands tremble slightly as I stand alone on the sidewalk outside the old brick building. I shift my bag higher on my shoulders as I look down the small town street and then finally turn towards the diner with large framed windows and full tables.

The blue door to Nan’s Diner is worn and peeling, but the atmosphere is homey—like walking into your grandma's kitchen. The smells taunt my senses and make my mouth water.

Too busy taking in the bustle and classic diner decor, I don't even see the older woman heading straight for me.

“You must be Emma.” She pulls me into a tight embrace like we’re old friends, then holds me at arm's length as if taking in a long-lost child. Her light gray hair is twisted up on top of her head, with tendrils framing her face. Her eyes are strikingly blue, very similar to Hunter’s. The creases that line her face make her smile full and warm. Everything about this woman is motherly. I want to hug her again.

“Hi. Yes, I’m Dr. Fawnsbeck.” God . Could I sound any more stuffy?

The woman doesn’t seem bothered by my body language and formal greeting.

“Dr. Fawnsbeck, of course. I’m Nan. I’m Hunter, Will’s, and Holly's mom.”

I give her a nod in understanding, and she grabs a menu and gestures for me to follow her. Nan continues telling me about the town and doesn’t notice that I’ve stopped listening as my eyes scan the small restaurant. I feel many people watching me, making my skin prickle with awareness.

“Emma!” Holly’s excited squeal has me looking up as her small frame pops up from her booth, and she wraps me in her arms. Reluctantly, I hug her back, soaking in the excitement and secretly enjoying the human contact.

Nan says, “I'll leave you all to it. Sit where you want, Emma. I'll be right back with drinks.”

Holly's animation is not contained as she bounces next to me. “Come eat with us!”

I slide into the booth beside Charlie as Nan drops some water off. I order a coffee with cream and sugar and take in the diner once more. The brick walls are similar to Cocoabeans back in Anchorage, but that's where the similarities stop. This space is filled with people engaging with one another, like friends and families coming together, whereas Cocoabeans was a room full of strangers.

I smile and release the pressure that's been building from leaving my house. This place feels safe. I feel safe. And I realize I haven't smiled in days. I haven’t felt safe in weeks. The last time I smiled was when I got this job offer, and even then, the smile was more out of relief than joy. But sitting here with two new friends, watching everyone else enjoy food and conversation, feels…perfect.

“A smile looks good on you.” Holly’s voice is kind.

“Thanks,” I continue to look over the menu, when Charlie suggests the pancakes.

As Nan comes back over I place my order.

“Sooo…” Holly starts, “I couldn’t help but notice that Hu nter dropped you off this morning.” Her eyebrows waggle like there is some big secret.

A blush heats my cheeks. “Yeah, he offered to drive me into town.” I look between both women and see the smile that grows across their faces.

Holly adds, “If it was just a ride, then why are your cheeks so pink?”

The blush deepens as I let a small laugh slip, “Okay, okay…”

Charlie leans against my shoulder, “We are teasing you. It's okay to crush on our Sheriff.”

“Ha, ew, that’s my brother,” Holly teases. Then says, “Emma, what's your plan for today?”

“I’m not sure.” I turn to the crowded dining room. “Hunter said he’d be back and take me over to the clinic when he got done with some…town thing. Do you guys know what he’s doing?”

Holly glances at Charlie quickly, as if they are having a silent conversation, then says, “It's probably nothing.” I glance between the two again, not satisfied with that answer.

“Who got in his truck with him?” I didn’t miss the fact that when I slipped from the truck, another man hopped in.

“Oh, that’s Will. He is the…deputy?” The question at the end of Charlie's sentence has me looking at both women, trying to figure out what else to ask because something feels off.

Nan interrupts our conversation as she slides a massive plate of pancakes in front of me. My stomach growls as I breathe in the buttery goodness and sweet syrup. I quickly cut a small corner out with my fork and moan around the bite.

“They’re the best, right?” Holly’s smile is bright as I watch her fork push around a piece of fruit. Her omelet sits completely untouched.

I offer, “Do you want some? I couldn’t possibly eat all of this.”

Holly’s face falls, and she rolls her lips into her mouth at the idea of eating some pancakes. I shoot a worried look over to Charlie, who smiles sadly.

I ask, “Does this have to do with the sickness Hunter brought me here for? Holly, are you sick?”

Holly’s head shakes quickly. “No, I’m not that bad…”

She glances at Charlie, who says, “Just tell her.”

Holly sighs. “I just have not been hungry, and I’m so worried for that family who lost a son last week.”

I didn’t miss that she said she’s not that bad but my mind wonders if someone has already died from this sickness and my stomach drops at the idea. “What do you mean they lost their son last week?” My fork pauses on the way to my mouth, and I slowly set it back on the plate. “Did someone already die from this sickness? Is that what you're talking about? Or does this have to do with the town thing?” Worry is evident in my voice.

Holly looks from me to the other people in the small diner and lowers her voice as she leans closer to me over the table. “Yes and no. The last person who got sick just disappeared…and, well, we just found out that they were found dead outside of Anchorage.”

I let a sharp gasp escape.

Charlie quickly shushes me and adds, “Hunter and Will are working to keep the town safe because we don’t know what's causing the sickness. At first, we didn’t think the situations were related, but the last four people who started showing signs of being ill eventually just disappeared. The last death…well, it's still really fresh.”

I nod in understanding. “Holly, what are your symptoms?” She rolls her eyes, and for the first time, I reach out and place my hand on hers. “Holly, please, I want to help.”

“Just tell her,” Charlie adds.

With a huff, Holly says, “It started with a three day flu. I simply couldn’t keep anything down. Then that seemed to pass, but I was still lethargic and nauseous. I’ve never been sick before, and well,” her eyes flit between mine, “I’m a virgin, so I know I wasn’t sick for that reason…” Her words fall off, and she looks to Charlie, who reaches out and holds her other hand.

“It sounds like you have a horrible flu or maybe were exposed to some kind of poison,” I say as I squeeze her hand. “Regardless, I will help once we get the clinic running.” I give her my best smile.

I didn’t miss the mention that she’s never been sick before, and I have so many more questions, but I just take another bite of my pancakes. The quiet that falls over the table gives me a moment to think about Holly’s symptoms and the fact that she said she has never gotten sick. None of it explains why people are disappearing, but it has given me an idea of what I’m dealing with.

“So Emma, tell us about Anchorage and being such a young doctor?” The food turns sour in my mouth as I think about the text I woke up to this morning.

The calls and texts haven’t said it’s him, but my phone lights up every few hours with different numbers like a spam caller who doesn't get the hint. My body aches from the accident and from the panic attacks that take hold of me at night.

“Emma?” Charlie scoots closer to me. “Emma, are you okay?”

Nearly choking on the pancake still in my mouth, I stutter, “Yeah, just…it's good.” I honestly forgot what they asked me, and I don’t think I responded right when they both gave me a confused look.

I change the subject away from Anchorage or any reminder of Cole. “What do you guys do for fun?”

Holly says, “There’s this magical campsite in the national forest above the Lodge. The hiking trail will take you right to the falls. During the summer melts, the water is so fresh, and at night, as the sun sets, lightning bugs dance in the falls.” Holly’s speech is wistful.

“Oh, Emma, the waterfalls are to die for. They flow all summer with winter snow melt, crystal blue.” Charlie is animated as she tells about this magical campsite

“I think I would like to do that this summer,” I add.

Charlie says, “Yes, as soon as Holly feels better, we should all go.”

“You know, the most magical camping trip I ever had was when I saw my first wolf. It was massive, white, and had sharp, white blue eyes.” The memory replays in my mind like a movie. “My dad and I were standing near the edge of a crystal clear lake. I had wandered a ways down the shore, looking for the perfect skipping stones and throwing them across the mirrored surface, and just as the ripples shifted, I saw the wolf's reflection in the water. My dad was much further down the shore, but I remembered him yelling for me. The wolf tilted its large head and took a small step forward. I felt pulled towards the wolf, and time seemed to slow down as we both took each other in…”

“Wow, how old were you?” Charlie's voice pulls me from the memory.

“I was about twelve or thirteen.”

The conversations for the rest of the morning were delightful. We shared childhood memories and talked about food—mostly baking. It turns out Charlie loves to bake. I observed Holly. She seemed to wear a smile for everyone else, but sometimes, she would look exhausted between laughter.