Rochelle Alers - Her Wickham Falls Seal

“Good morning.”

“Is it really?” Aiden asked, chuckling softly.

She smiled. “It is for polar bears. It looks as if we’re going to have to cancel our trip to Beckley.”

“That’s why I’m calling. The mayor has declared a snow emergency, which means all non-essential vehicles aren’t allowed on the road. This is my only day off until after the New Year, so we won’t be able to order the furniture until you return.”

“Don’t sweat it, Aiden. I’ll order whatever I need once I get to New York and have it shipped to you. Do you want me to ship it to your home or the Wolf Den?”

“Can you arrange for it to be delivered to the house after you come back? Because I don’t want to become a target for porch pirates.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” There had been an escalation of porch thefts all over the country, despite homeowners installing security cameras. “Have you thought of installing cameras around your property?” Sawyer had wired the house with a system where he could view the house and greenhouses from remote locations.

“Yes and no.”

Taryn walked over to the eating nook and sat down. “Either it’s yes or no.”

“Yes because it would make the house more secure, and no because we have a neighborhood watch. Many of my neighbors are retired and they are always on the lookout for any suspicious activity.”

There came a pregnant pause before Aiden spoken again.

“What’s on your agenda for today?”

“I’m going to put up several loads of laundry, dust, and vacuum and watch mindless television.” She and Jessica had gotten along well when they shared an off-campus apartment because both were neat freaks. “What are you going to do on your day off?”

“Wait for the snow to stop and then get out the snowblower and clear the driveway and sidewalks for my elderly neighbor.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

“Who’s going to shovel for you?” Aiden asked.

“Jessica and Sawyer have an agreement with a few of the teenage boys on Porterfield Lane to rake leaves and shovel snow.”

“I remember when I used to shovel snow for money before I started working in the restaurant.”

“Can you answer one question for me?”

“What’s that?”

“Why is the restaurant called the Wolf Den?” Taryn asked, not wanting their conversation to end. She liked listening to the sound of his drawling voice that was a constant reminder that he’d grown up in the South.

Aiden’s deep chuckle caressed her ear when he said, “A family named Wolfe, spelled with the E , owned most of the mines in The Falls and several towns to the south. My family worked in the mines for more generations than I can count. My great-grandfather decided he’d had enough after he was buried for hours during a caved in and asked his brothers to go in with him making moonshine. They pooled their savings, bought a patch of land and built the restaurant under the guise they were offering hearty inexpensive meals.”

“Were they?” Taryn asked, totally intrigued by the story.

“Yes, but they were also selling hooch. They’d buy several hogs from a farmer, butcher them and cook every part of them from the rooter to the tooter, and serve them along with rice, greens and corn bread. They charged fifty cents a plate and a dollar for a half-gallon jug filled with moonshine. Of course, they had to stay one step ahead of the revenuers or end up in jail.”

“How did they do that?”

“They had paid lookouts and occasionally bribed the revenuers. When you come to the restaurant, you’ll see that it’s located off the road and down in a valley. The still was concealed up in the mountains and hidden among a copse of trees. Most times, you’d walk by it and not know it was there.”

“Shame on you, Aiden. Your folks were criminals.”

“I’d like to think of my folks as entrepreneurs. It was all about supply and demand. Once Prohibition was repealed, they exhausted their stock of hooch and went totally legit to concentrate on offering some of the best restaurant food in Johnson County.”

“When I come back, I’m definitely going to sample some of your celebrated dishes.”

“I know you’re leaving in a couple of days, so if I don’t talk to you, I’d like to wish you a healthy and happy New Year.”

“I wish you the same.”

Taryn ended the call and drained the coffee cup. Sawyer and Jessica were scheduled to return to the States on the twenty-eighth after their seven-day Caribbean honeymoon, and Sawyer’s gift to Taryn was to pay for a round-trip flight on a private jet for housesitting and for when she planned to come back to Wickham Falls. He’d left the return date open because she still hadn’t determined when she would leave New York. She had selected the thirtieth to return to New York because she wanted to ring in the New Year with her parents and grandmother. She wasn’t certain whether her brother would be stateside, but his wife and children had come up from Virginia to celebrate Christmas with the elder Robinsons.

“Hey, baby,” she crooned when Bootsy ambled into the kitchen and stood on his hind legs for her to pick him up. Taryn scooped him into her arms. “Did you have a good nap?” After she’d let him out earlier that morning to do his business, he had raced back into the house and curled up on his bed in a corner of the kitchen. While most dogs loved romping in the snow, Bootsy was the exception.

Bootsy turned around on her lap and then flopped down to rest his muzzle on her denim-covered thigh. She ran her fingertips over his black-and-white curly hair, wondering if the dog still missed his pet parents. He’d moped around for two days until Taryn picked him up and held him for several hours. She knew Jessica was going to have a hissy fit because she was spoiling her puppy, but Taryn was ready to explain that Bootsy had been experiencing separation anxiety and she had to comfort him.

Her cell rang again, and this time Jessica’s name appeared on the screen. “What’s up, Mrs. Middleton?”

“That’s what I should be asking you, Miss Robinson. I just got an alert on my phone about the winter storm dumping close to a foot of snow on the Appalachians. Are you safe?”

“Safe as a bug in a rug,” she quipped. “I’m here with Mr. Bootsy and we’re going to stay indoors until the roads are cleared.”

“Don’t you dare attempt to shovel, because we pay the kids at the end of the block to clear away the snow along the driveway and sidewalk.”

“Girl, please. The only thing I do with snow is watch it melt.”

Jessica laughed. “I hear you. Sawyer’s travel agent is making arrangements for us to fly into Huntington Tri-State Airport in Kenova, because it’s closer to The Falls, and with the weather, Yeager Airport may have delays.”

“Do you want me to pick you up in Kenova?”

“No. The agent is also arranging ground transportation.”

“You’re lucky you married a rich man, otherwise, you’d be among the huddled masses waiting to take a commercial carrier.”

“Remember, I fell in love with Sawyer even before I knew how much he’s worth, and if it hadn’t been for you knocking some sense into my hard head, I’d still be single.”

Taryn smiled. “I had to talk tough because you deserve to be happy. And don’t forget, I’m a romantic at heart.”

“Does this mean you’re going to be open to dating a man if he shows the slightest bit of interest in you?”

“We’ll see,” Taryn said noncommittedly. She wanted to remind her friend that she had relocated to teach and not to find a lover or husband.

“How’s Bootsy?”

“Spoiled rotten.”

“Have you been holding him?”

“I had to, Jessica, he was experiencing separation anxiety. He wouldn’t eat and moped around as if he’d lost his best friend. Either I spoil him or you can take him to a pet psychiatrist for therapy.”