Page 3 of Auctioned to the Devil

“I knew it.” She points a finger at me triumphantly. “Margie said you’d be pretty.”

I laugh.

“I’m sorry…Margie?”

“Margie Warner. Owns The Devil’s Peak Lodge.” She sticks out her hand. “I’m Sally.”

I shake it.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Honey, we’ve been waiting for you.”

That catches me off guard.

“You have?”

“Your granddaddy talked about you all the time.”

Something twists gently in my chest.

Grandpa.

Even now, months after the funeral, saying goodbye still feels unfinished.

“He did?”

“He sure did.” Sally pats my hand. “Sit yourself down. Coffee’s coming whether you ordered it or not.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And pie?”

“Absolutely.”

She laughs. “I knew I liked you.”

Minutes later I’m wrapped around a mug of coffee while Sally slides a slice of blackberry pie in front of me.

“You’ve got your grandfather’s eyes.”

“So people keep telling me.”

“He would’ve been proud you came.”

I glance out the window toward the mountains. “I hope so.”

“You fixing up the old lodge?”

“I am.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“I know.”

“And Richard Sloan’s still bothering you?”

I sigh. “Word travels fast.”