Page 3 of Styx’s Storm

A warm glow settled in my chest. Clearly, this guy was a good person. I had an instinct for that, and everything here read kindness. I smiled more sincerely. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” He gestured toward the chairs.

I settled into a stuffy, oversized chair—across from Miss Edna.

Her gaze settled on me, and she did something with her old iPod. A moment later, she pulled her earphones out. “Everyone says you have to listen to things on your phone.” She gestured to me.

“Well, uh, I don’t listen to many audiobooks.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re missing out. The library has plenty of free ones that you can download. Thousands. Maybe hundreds of thousands. Do you have a library card?”

I shook my head. “Just passing through town.”

“Oh?” she straightened. “Interesting town to just pass through. Where are you coming from?”

“One hot chocolate and three books.” Dickens handed me the drink and put the books on the little table beside me. Two appeared to be books with landscape photographs, and one was the history of Mission City. He pressed his fingers on that one. “A little dry—but well-researched. Mission City has one of the oldest Indigenous-settlement discoveries on record.”

“Very interesting stuff.” Miss Edna offered me a smile. “I read it before my eyes started to go.”

Dickens pivoted his attention to her. “Are you all stocked up on audiobooks?”

She nodded. “That nice Marnie girl at the library got me settled for the next week or two.” She patted her iPod. “All good.”

“I’m not sure Marnie is a girl anymore.”

“Being married and having a child doesn’t make you—” Miss Edna frowned. “She’s about sixty years younger than me. So I get to call her a girl.”

Dickens chuckled. “I won’t ask what that makes me.”

She frowned. “A man.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, fuddy-duddy.” She pursed her lips. “You’ve made your point.”

“I’m just saying Marnie might not see herself as a girl anymore.” He cast a smile at me. “Have you met our newcomer?”

“Just passing through.” I felt I needed to reiterate that.

He grinned. “Said many people who now live here. Proximity to Vancouver’s a thing. Small-town living has its charms.”

“Been here my entire life.” Miss Edna proceeded to tell a long, convoluted story about the old library, as opposed to the new library. I didn’t quite follow, but I nodded politely and made interested noises. Once, Dickens’s and my eyes met, and we both suppressed smiles. Eventually Miss Edna wound down with, “—and that’s why the children’s section is where it is. Oh, there’s Martin. I have to go.” She held out her hand.

Dickens offered his arm, and within moments, the woman was on her feet. They made their way to the door together, where he grabbed an umbrella and held it over her head as he escorted her to the van.

In a short period of time, she was aboard.

The van door closed, the vehicle left, and Dickens waved. He came back inside and shook himself off. “That’s one hell of a downpour. I’m glad you’re not in it.”

“Me too.”

“I have some ordering to do. You let me know if you need anything—including a refill.” He saluted and headed back toward the front cash register.

On that note, I settled more comfortably and began reading the history of Mission City. Reading was brutally hard for me, but I was determined. The picture books were nice, but I wanted to come across as someone serious. No idea why…but there it was.

I was so engrossed that when Dickens touched my shoulder, I was startled. His expression was soft and clearly considerate.

“It’s a quarter to six.”