Page 20

The next hour passed in small tasks. They folded the blankets, straightened the seating area, and carried the remains of breakfast into the kitchenette. Claire tucked her phone into her pocket. Neither woman reached for her coat.

A dark SUV eventually turned into the parking lot and pushed carefully through the deep snow. Erin leaned closer to the glass, then smiled. “That’s Ingrid.”

Erin opened the front door and held it while Ingrid stamped the snow from a pair of heavy black boots that reached nearly to her knees. A long navy down parka covered her almost to mid-calf, and a thick purple scarf wrapped twice around her neck. She wore a navy-and-orange Denver Broncos stocking cap pulled low over her ears and insulated gloves that made her hands look twice their actual size. She appeared to be in her late sixties, tall and straight-backed, her sharp cheekbones flushed from the cold. Once inside, she tugged off the cap, revealing silver-blond hair cropped close to her head. Her pale eyes moved from Erin to Claire, quietly taking in the stranger.

“It’s good to see you’re both alive.”

Ingrid barely gave Erin time to close the door before pulling her into a fierce hug. Erin laughed, but she held Ingrid just as tightly.

“We were just fine.”

“I know. I worried anyway. That is how affection works.”

Ingrid stepped back and looked Erin over as if confirming that the storm had returned every important piece of her. Only then did she turn toward Claire.

“Claire, this is Ingrid van Lier,” Erin said. “She handles the books, keeps the online orders moving, remembers everything I forget, and has saved me from more bad decisions than I’ll ever admit publicly. I couldn’t run this place without her.”

The affection in Erin’s voice softened Ingrid’s face.

“Don’t let her fool you. She built all of this,” Ingrid said, glancing around the boutique. “I merely keep the numbers from misbehaving.”

She crossed to Claire and offered her hand. “I’m very glad Erin wasn’t alone last night. And I’m glad you weren’t stranded somewhere out there on a mountain.”

“So am I,” Claire said.

Ingrid held her gaze for a moment without asking questions Claire wasn’t ready to answer. Then the woman paused and listened to the generator humming behind the wall. “It sounds like the generator held up.”

“Ran all night,” Erin said. “I kept the load light.”

“Good.” Ingrid released a quiet breath and began unzipping her parka. “Then I can stop imagining everything that might have gone wrong and start being useful.”

Ingrid glanced at the empty champagne bottle beside two glasses on the counter. Her expression remained perfectly neutral.

“I see you managed to survive on emergency rations.” She gave a hearty chuckle.

“It was a very resourceful Christmas Eve,” Erin said.

“Clearly.” Ingrid picked up one of the glasses, examined it, and set it back down without further comment. She glanced toward the hallway leading to the office and stockroom. “I’m going to make sure nothing froze in the back.” She disappeared down the hallway.

Claire watched her go, smiling. She liked Ingrid immediately. The woman had a kind face, an observant gaze, and the good sense to leave certain questions unasked.

“Come to my rental for dinner,” Claire said, turning to Erin. The invitation escaped before she had time to consider how much she wanted the answer to be yes. “I have an entire kitchen stocked for Christmas dinner and no one to share it with. It would be absurd to let all of it go to waste.”

Erin’s eyebrows lifted.

“I would love to have you join me.”

Erin smiled. “What time?”

“Four? That gives us both time to shower and remember what clean clothes feel like.”

“Four is perfect.”

“You’ll need the address.” Claire pulled out her phone. “Give me your number.”

Erin recited it while Claire entered it, then sent the rental address and location pin. Erin’s phone chimed.

“There. Now you have both.”