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“I’m okay.”

The words were automatic. She unfastened her seat belt and assessed the damage. She was pretty sure she could walk. She brushed her face and realized that she’d hit her head on something. The blood was warm and sticky.

“Move your fingers and toes,” she said, trying to find her handbag. “Can you?”

“Yeah. My chest hurts a little from the seat belt, but I’m okay.”

She opened the car door. She had to find her purse and call for help. Out on the highway, she saw several cars stopping and knew they would call 911, but she had to let Toby know what had happened.

“I need my phone.”

“I’ll get it.”

Harrison released himself and Belle, then got out of the SUV. Belle followed. She shook herself off and trotted around to sniff Reggie, as if making sure she was all right. Harrison opened the passenger door.

“Got it.”

He ran around and handed her the bag. She dug out her cell and scrolled through for Toby’s number, only she couldn’t find it. Then she realized she couldn’t focus. Her vision was blurry and the nausea had returned.

“Call your dad,” she said, feeling herself start to fade. “Listen to me, Harrison. Call your dad and tell him what happened. Then get in the back with Belle. Use her to stay warm. She’ll protect you.”

She motioned to the people racing toward them. “Ask them for a blanket. Make sure someone called 911. Okay?”

He moved toward her. “Are you all right?” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “Reggie, don’t die.”

She managed a smile. “I won’t die. I hit my head. Just stay warm and look after Belle.”

“I will.”

He pushed the button to connect him with his dad. Two men reached the SUV. One of them looked at her and swore.

“Help is on the way,” he said, and that was the last thing she heard.

Dena appreciated the fact that her day had been busy—it gave her less time to think. She taught her students, then hurried home to man the reception desk at the B and B. Winona needed to duck out for a couple of hours, and Dena was filling in. Midweek, there weren’t a lot of guests checking in or out. Most would stay through the holidays. She was still getting regular emails from the Pinkertons, who were hoping for a last-minute cancellation, but so far there hadn’t been any.

All of which was a nice distraction from the fact that she hadn’t heard from Micah all day. Last night had been a whirlwind of emotions, from waiting for Micah to play to hearing the song to wondering what it meant. Not that she had been able to ask. When he’d called back sometime after midnight, he hadn’t wanted to keep her on the phone long. Before she could say she was fine with talking, he’d hung up. Which left her feeling unsettled and confused.

“He’ll be back soon,” she told herself. He’d promised, and she trusted him to keep his word.

She went into the kitchen and started getting ready for Snacks and Wine. Ursula had outdone herself with shrimp-scampi-filled and wild-mushroom-filled puff pastry. Dena was going to try to limit herself to only a couple of each. She really had to get in her vegetables, and if she stuffed herself with flaky goodness, that was not happening.

She’d just finished setting out the wine when she heard the sound of the bell over the front door. Instantly her entire body went on alert. Had Micah surprised her by coming back early? Was he here?

She ran into the main room, hoping to find him standing by the reception desk, but the person there wasn’t Micah. Instead it was a woman—a thin, beautiful redhead, with angry eyes and a petulant expression.

“I’m looking for this room,” Electra said, slapping Micah’s key on the counter. “Micah Ruiz sent me to check him out of this place and get his things packed up.” She looked around. “What a nightmare. Whoever did the decorating never heard the phrase ‘less is more.’” She turned back to Dena. “His room? Where is it?”

Dena struggled to understand what was happening. Electra was here for Micah’s things? But he was coming back. He’d promised.

“Mr. Ruiz didn’t leave any instructions to let someone else into his room.” She forced herself to offer a pleasant smile.

Electra waved the key. “I don’t need permission, do I? I have the key. He’s busy recording and can’t be bothered to come here to take care of the details.”

Dena didn’t know what to think. Micah couldn’t have gotten back together with Electra. Not so quickly. He’d sworn he didn’t even like her that much. But Electra had his key. How would she have gotten it if he hadn’t given it to her?

“I’ll show you the room,” she said stiffly, walking toward the main entrance. “It’s in the carriage house.”

“It’s so cold here. And the snow. What’s up with that? When he’s done recording, we’re going somewhere tropical. Just the two of us. I can’t wait. Sun, sand and sex for three weeks. Then we’ll come home and start writing. It’s going to be wonderful.”