JENNIFER LABRECQUE - Northern Escape

Teddy staggered to the sink and promptly threw up. Gus tried not to gag. She’d never been very good at handling someone throwing up. When Teddy finally quit heaving, Gus passed her a towel. Teddy’s teeth began chattering and Gus pressed the back of her hand to Teddy’s face.

“You’re burning up. You’ve got the flu.”

“I don’t think I can drive.”

There was no way she’d let Teddy walk out the door and even try it. “I know you definitely can’t drive. I’ll drive you home.”

Teddy shook her head no, still hanging on to the edge of the stainless steel industrial sink, but adamant nonetheless. “I appreciate it but you’ll grind my gears.” Teddy drove a stick and the one time Gus had tried to drive it had been a disaster. Gus didn’t even own a car anymore. She’d abandoned hers when Bull came for her and she hadn’t needed one since moving to Good Riddance. “Call Marcia. She’ll come get me.”

Teddy lived on the outskirts of town with her older sister, Marcia and Marcia’s girlfriend, Sybil. Their mom had died when Teddy was fourteen and her dad had taken off for parts unknown a year later.

Gus rang Marcia and then bundled Teddy into her coat, gloves and hat. Poor Teddy sat huddled in her coat in a chair near the door while she waited, a bowl close by in case she had to throw up again.

Within minutes Marcia was there, concern for Teddy knitting her brow. “C’mon, baby, let’s get you home.” Marcia looked at Gus as she helped Teddy to her feet. “Sybil’s driving Teddy’s car home.”

Marcia’s demeanor was cool as usual when she spoke to Gus. Marcia blamed Gus for Teddy’s determination to move to New York. And while Gus had never encouraged or discouraged Teddy’s aspirations, she understood Marcia not wanting her only relative to move so far away. Gus was all too familiar with holidays, and regular days, spent without the one you loved most. Despite how she felt about Merrilee, she still ached for her mother, particularly at this time of year.

“Take care, Teddy, and feel better,” Gus said before the door closed on the two sisters.

Poor Teddy. Weary, Gus looked around at the empty restaurant. Everything had to be cleaned again and sanitized tonight before she could go to bed. Flu germs and restaurant customers made a bad combination.

She straightened her back and took a deep breath. There was nothing for it but to do it. Sleep was overrated anyway.

Gus was just getting started when the connecting door between her place and the airstrip office opened and Merrilee came in.

“I thought I’d double-check on you.” Merrilee glanced around the empty room. “Where’s Teddy?”

“Sybil and Marcia just picked her up. Teddy has the flu.”

Merrilee shook her head. “That’s not good. Not good at all. You’re gonna have to scrub down the entire place again, aren’t you?”

“Everything has to be cleaned again, including all the place settings because we were both washing dishes tonight.”

Merrilee began to roll up her sleeves. “Then let’s get to it.”

“Merrilee, you can’t—”

“I most certainly can.” Merrilee planted one hand on her hip. “I’m not leaving you to scrub this entire restaurant by yourself. We’ll get it taken care of in no time working together. Now let’s get cracking.”

They’d worked their way through the dining room and moved on to the bar, sharing a tired but companionable silence, when Merrilee spoke up. “You better call Darlene Pritchford first thing in the morning, Gus.”

Darlene had worked at the restaurant off and on for years. She wasn’t as quick as Teddy but she’d always proven a good backup.

Gus shook her head. “I heard yesterday Darlene has the flu.”

Merrilee winced. “I can waitress and bus the tables but I don’t know what to do when it comes to the kitchen. You think Lucky or Mavis could stay over and help with some of the evening stuff?”

That wasn’t an option. She shook her head. She wouldn’t even ask it of her short-order cook who covered breakfast and lunch. “He’s got family in from the lower forty-eight for Chrismoose and the holidays. He’s already going above and beyond by not asking for any time off. I can’t ask him to work extra hours. Mavis is busy with Chrismoose and her grandchildren. I’ll manage.” She wasn’t sure how, but where there was a will, there was a way.

And there were benefits—she’d definitely be flying under Nick Hudson’s radar since she’d be far too busy to do anything else. And exhaustion would hopefully keep at bay the specter of Troy … as well as the allure of Nick.

The following morning Nick rolled out of bed and made short work of showering and shaving. He whistled beneath his breath while he dressed. Crossing to the window affording a view of Main Street, he pulled back the flannel curtain to check out what was going on.

It was still dark outside but that was no surprise in Alaska in the middle of December. Daylight hours ran short but he’d noticed yesterday that the town just rolled along, regardless of the dark. Several pickup trucks were already out on the street. A couple of dogs trotted down the sidewalk behind someone so bundled Nick couldn’t tell if it was a male or female. Light glowed from behind windows and spilled out onto the snow from buildings lining the street.

He’d written his first blog post last night after dinner and checked his email before he headed downstairs. He had plenty of time. Clint Sisnuket had offered to take him out to the native village this morning but he and Clint weren’t meeting up for nearly an hour.

He’d answered what needed addressing and signed out of his email when he decided to run a search on Gus. She’d asked him not to mention her or her establishment so he wouldn’t but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find out about her. He wanted to know more and the internet was a damn good resource.

He typed in her name and hit Enter. Nothing. That was odd. Teddy had clearly said the woman had worked in New York. She should be referenced in some culinary capacity or as staff at some restaurant. He tried changing the spelling of the last name and came up with another blank. It simply made him more determined. He tried her name with key words such as chef, food reviews and culinary arts all coupled with New York.

Not a damn thing. Beginning to get frustrated and more determined than ever, he logged on to a site available to Times staff where anyone who’d ever breathed could be found since it searched a nationwide database of birth records. Bingo. Three Augustina Tippens.

Wait … no bingo. He did some quick math. One of them would be ninety-four if she was still alive. Another was six years old and the last Augustina Tippens was fifty-one.

What the hell? He did a public records search for Good Riddance. She ostensibly owned the restaurant and bar next door, but there was no business license or property deed in her name. There wasn’t even a phone number listed for her in the white pages.

Whoever the hell she was, she wasn’t Augustina Tippens. And she’d made no bones about it last night—she didn’t want him mentioning her or her restaurant in his blog. Curiouser and curiouser.

Nick turned off his computer and headed downstairs. The B and B bedrooms were all located on the second floor above the airstrip office. Merrilee’s voice drifted up the stairs.

“Teddy’s got the flu and so does Darlene. Lucky’s got family in from out of town so he’s busy and can’t stay for the evening shift. Gus is in a fix. I can pitch in and wait tables but I don’t know what to do in the kitchen.”

Nick entered the room just as Dalton responded, “That bites.”

“Yeah, poor Gus.” She looked over at Nick. “Good morning. How’d you sleep last night?”