Kelsey was a part-time clerk and my most recent hire. Well, sort of. She’d worked at the library years before, but had left when she’d had her first child. The kids were older now, and Kelsey didn’t mind leaving them with her mother a couple of times a week. One of our part-timers had relocated to Arizona in July, so it had all worked out.
“What about you?” Kelsey asked. “Have you driven anything like the bookmobile in winter?”
I smiled. “It’ll be fine. The heavier the vehicle, the easier it’ll go through the snow. Besides, the roads should be plowed by the time we get out.”
Her eyebrows went up. “On that route? You’re kidding, right?”
For the first time, I had a moment of pure panic. What was I thinking? Surely driving an incredibly expensive vehicle out on snow-covered and slippery roads was misguided at best, and dangerous at worst. I was going to put the bookmobile, Eddie, and Denise in danger, and for what? To say that the bookmobile always made its appointed rounds? For the sake of my pride?
Then my common sense asserted itself. You’re not stupid, it told me. If the weather is truly horrible, you won’t go out.
“No need to make that decision now,” I said. “We’ll see what happens overnight. If it looks bad in the morning, I’ll call the sheriff’s office for a report on the road conditions.”
Kelsey shook her head. “You’re a braver woman than I am, driving that big bookmobile beast all over the county. There’s not even cell-phone reception in a lot of places, you know.”
Beast? I puffed up a little at hearing my beautiful bookmobile called a beast. The only beastly thing about the bookmobile was Eddie, and he slept a lot of the time. Maybe hiring Kelsey hadn’t been such a wise decision.
“Hey,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I keep meaning to tell you. A friend of mine lives over in Peebles—you know, one of those little towns where Stephen shut down their library a couple of years ago? Anyway, you have a bookmobile stop there, and my friend says that getting the bookmobile is the best thing that’s happened to that town since the grocery store reopened. Pretty cool, right?”
Then again, Kelsey wasn’t so bad.
I had dreams that night of freezing rain and howling winds, and woke up to the smell of bacon cooking.
My shower was fast, and I hurried down to the kitchen just in time to see Aunt Frances filling two plates with eggs and bacon and hash browns.
“Wow,” I said, bumping Eddie to the floor and sitting in my chair. “What’s the occasion?”
Aunt Frances nodded to the wide kitchen window. “Thought you could use a hearty breakfast before going out in that.”
I half stood so I could see outside. Nothing but white and more white. “Huh,” I said, sitting back down. “That’s, um, a lot of snow.”
“More than six inches,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s eat.”
While downing crisp bacon glazed with maple syrup, my aunt regaled me with tales of winters long, long ago. “And then there was the blizzard of 1978,” she said almost wistfully. “Remember?”
I didn’t, since that had been two years before I was born, but I nodded anyway, figuring it counted if I remembered seeing the pictures Mom had stuck into the photo album.
Our plates were soon empty. I thanked Aunt Frances for the wonderful breakfast, and as soon as the table was clear, I fetched my cell phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.
“Deputy Wolverson,” said a male voice. “How may I help you?”
“Oh, uh.” I hadn’t expected someone I knew to answer the phone, let alone a man who was about my age, with a muscular build, short brown hair, and a squarish jaw. Hot was what Holly called him, and I supposed she was right. “Hi. This is Minnie Hamilton. From the library. I didn’t expect you to be answering the phones.”
“Hey, Minnie,” he said. “I don’t usually, but I’m covering for someone this morning. What can I do you for?”
The old-fashioned phrase made me smile. “Today is a bookmobile day, and I was wondering about the road conditions.”
“Hey, that’s great that you called to check,” he said. “Not many people think to ask. Where are you headed?”
I gave him the road names and heard the click of a few computer keys. “You should be fine,” he said. “Those are primary roads, so they’ll be clear by nine o’clock.”
I thanked him and hung up. Aunt Frances was at the sink, doing the dishes against my objections. “We’re on,” I said, and looked around for Eddie. He was nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Eddie,” I called. “Ready for a bookmobile ride?”
Though he hadn’t been in the kitchen half a second earlier, there he suddenly was, sitting in the middle of the floor as if he’d been there the entire time.
“Mrr,” he said.
* * *
Half an hour later, the bookmobile was out of the garage, warming up while I made sure all was ready for the day’s adventure.
I’d run through the outside checklist and was halfway through the inside list when there was a knock on the door. This was strange, because people rarely knocked at the door at stops, let alone while the bookmobile was sitting in the library’s back parking lot, but maybe the handle had frozen shut with the snow and Denise couldn’t get it unlatched.
Mentally shrugging, I went to open the door.
Outside, a man in jeans, work boots, and a brown Carhartt jacket stood with his back to the bookmobile. He was doing what I often did in the mornings, drinking in the view of the downtown Chilson rooftops and Janay Lake. Even on this snowy day, with a sky still morning gray, it was a sight worth taking in, and I was already liking the guy, whoever he was.
“Hi,” I said. “Can I help you?”
He turned. He had a salt-and-pepper beard, weathered skin, and a cheerful expression. “Morning. I’m Roger Slade. My wife sent me over.”
“Your . . . wife?”
“Denise.”
This was making no sense whatsoever. “She sent you?”
He nodded. “Didn’t she call? She said she was going to.”
“Haven’t heard it ring.” And I knew for a fact that my cell was charged up and raring to go. I always made sure of that on bookmobile days.
“Oh. Well.” He shrugged. “She meant to, but you know how she gets. Anyway, she can’t make it today on the bookmobile.”
“She what?” My eyes thinned to mere slits. I’d known this was going to happen. Just known it. Denise was capable but not dependable, no matter how many promises she made. Why had I ever thought this time would be different?
“But she sent me,” Roger said. “She said it’ll work out fine.”
Oh, she did, did she? I opened my mouth . . . but then shut it. I would deal with Denise later. Right now there was a bookmobile run to embark upon and a new volunteer to train.
I smiled at Roger. “Come on in.”
* * *
Ten minutes later we were on our way. I’d introduced Roger to Eddie and Eddie to Roger, given him a quick tour of the bookmobile, handed him the necessary paperwork, given him a fact sheet on the Dewey decimal system, and asked him whether he’d brought food.
He shook his head. “Denise didn’t say anything about it and I didn’t think to ask.”
I stopped in the middle of buckling up my seat belt. “Do you want to stop to pick up something on the way out of town?”
“I’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m used to not having lunch.”
It was then that I was struck with the realization that I knew absolutely nothing about the man I was going to be traveling with for the next eight hours. “So,” I said, dropping the transmission into gear, “what do you do when you’re not riding with the bookmobile?”
“Lately or normally?” he asked.
I was starting to like this guy. I grinned. “Both.”
“Normally I work construction for a company in Petoskey.” He gave a name that rang a vague bell in the back of my brain. “We specialize in old structures. Bridges, barns—whatever. Do projects all over the state. Did your library here,” he said, nodding at the brick building.