It turned out that Thistle’s plan wasn’t genius as much as it was immature. Still, I was bored and worried about Landon being stuck on the frightening roads, so I agreed to help. By the time we were done, Thistle cast a spell that made Aunt Tillie feel as if there were ants in her pants – and infesting her chair. We were left with nothing better to do than to wait for Aunt Tillie to react and then ultimately slap back.

In the meantime, our other cousin Clove and her boyfriend Sam arrived. They looked a little worse for wear.

“We ended up in the ditch,” Clove announced as she warmed her hands by the roaring fire in the dining room. “It’s like Armageddon out there.”

The simple statement caused my anxiety to escalate. “How did you get out?”

“I towed them out,” Chief Terry announced as he strolled in the room. “I had my truck and a chain. We got lucky that they hadn’t been in there more than a few minutes.”

“I didn’t even know you were here,” I said, flashing a warm smile. Chief Terry was one of my favorite people – I even preferred him to most of my family members at times – and he would make a nice distraction while I tried not to obsess about the weather. “I’m glad you were there to save Clove and Sam.”

“That makes two of us,” Sam said, sitting at the table and pouring a mug of coffee. “I hate snow. Did I mention I hate snow?”

“That makes northern Lower Michigan a fabulous place for you to live,” Thistle drawled, wrinkling her nose as she checked her phone. “Marcus is on his way.” She flicked her eyes to her mother. “We’ll need to stay here. I told you that, right? Our furnace is out.”

Twila, who was all aflutter thanks to Chief Terry’s presence, smiled. “It will be nice to have you with us tonight. We’ve missed seeing you as much as we used to.” Her expression was fond as she touched Thistle’s hair. “It will give us a chance to talk about what a stupid idea it was to dye your hair multiple colors.”

Thistle scowled. “Oh, geez. I walked right into that one.”

“You certainly did,” Clove agreed, plopping herself on the floor and pushing her stocking-clad feet toward the fire. “I think we’ll have to stay here, too. How many rooms do you have open?”

Clove’s mother, Marnie, answered. “They’re all open. Thankfully this happened early in the week. We have guests arriving Wednesday, but the roads should be cleared before then.”

“Yes, we can be snowed in two full days together,” Twila added enthusiastically.

Thistle’s face at the suggestion was nothing short of hilarious. “That’s a terrifying thought, isn’t it?” She cast me a dubious look. “Still, you should stay here tonight, too. If we’re all stuck … it will be more fun if we’re together.”

“Oh, yay!” Clove clapped her hands. “I like that idea.”

“You only like that idea because you want me to suffer as much as you guys,” I groused. “It’s not as if you want to spend that much time with your mothers.”

“I heard that,” Marnie warned. “Don’t make me call your mother to deal with you.”

“Where is my mother?” I craned my neck and stared through the opening that led to the lobby. “I haven’t seen her in a bit. She took off because we were plotting against Aunt Tillie and I haven’t seen her since.”

“She’s at the front desk balancing the books,” Twila replied. “She always does that when she feels like the inn is closing in on her. That’s her way of getting away from it all.”

“It’s only going to get worse when we start drinking,” Thistle noted. “If she thinks this place feels small now, she hasn’t seen anything yet.”

“Good point.” Marnie grinned as she poured Clove a mug of coffee and delivered it to her in front of the fire. “Still, I think it would be fun if everyone stayed here tonight. We have a big dinner planned and we can add a big breakfast.” She offered up a saucy wink for Chief Terry’s benefit. “That goes for you, too, Terry.”

Even though he was often uncomfortable given the sustained interest from my mother and aunts – they were all vying for his attention – I had significant doubt that he would know what to do with any of them if one managed to land him. Of course, several weeks ago I pressed him on the issue and told him it was okay to make a choice. I was still waiting for him to select.

“I’d love to stay,” Chief Terry said, taking me by surprise. “I don’t think I have much of a choice. Getting back to town will be perilous. I hope people have the good sense to stay off the roads tonight.”

That was about all I could take. I hopped to my feet. “I need to call Landon,” I announced. “Maybe he can find a hotel close to wherever he’s at. He shouldn’t keep trying to get here. It’s too far.”

Chief Terry’s expression softened. “You’re worried. I should’ve realized that. Bay, Landon will be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

“You just said that people shouldn’t be on the roads.”

“I didn’t mean him.”

“But … .”

“Bay, he’ll be fine.” Chief Terry rested his big hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get yourself in a tizzy.”

“He’s right,” Thistle said pragmatically. “Do you see me freaking out because Marcus is still out there? No, because I have faith he knows what he’s doing and that everything will be fine. You should try looking on the bright side of things.”

I stared at her, convinced a second head was about to sprout. “Who are you and what have you done with my pessimistic cousin?”

“Ha, ha.” Thistle rolled her eyes, snapping her head in the direction of the door when the sound of stomping footsteps filled the room.

I jerked my head in that direction and couldn’t stop the disappointed roll of my stomach when I caught sight of Marcus. His shoulder-length hair was covered in snow, his cheeks flushed from the chill, and the look he shot Thistle was one of surprised pleasure when she launched herself at him.

“What’s this?”

“I thought for sure you were dead in a ditch,” Thistle announced, her voice shaky.

If I could’ve grabbed her around the neck and given her a good shake and gotten away with it I totally would’ve done it. There was every chance she can take me in a fair fight – and don’t even get me going on an unfair fight, which she’s prone to engage in regularly – so I wisely kept my mouth shut even as my anxiety doubled.

“It’s nice to be loved.” Marcus beamed as he gave Thistle a lingering hug. He knew very well her mood would shift to snarky and mean relatively quickly, so he took advantage of the situation while he could. “I was a little worried about getting here. The roads are a mess. Even when you’re going slow and know where you’re going it’s a little frightening.”

My stomach twisted as I chewed my bottom lip. “Maybe we should go looking for him.” I glanced at Chief Terry. “Maybe … .”

“Sweetheart, we don’t know exactly where he is,” Chief Terry reminded me gently. “He could be anywhere. Give it some time. If he’s stopped someplace else because he feels that’s the safest thing to do, you don’t have to worry. He’ll call. He wouldn’t leave you suffering all night. That’s not his way.”

I knew that was true, yet … . My heart hopped when I heard the front door open and I ran to the opening between rooms so I could get a glimpse of the action. Landon wasn’t looking at me as he entered, but he said something to my mother that had both of them chuckling, his booming laughter filling the room.

Even though I knew it was ridiculous, I couldn’t stop the relief from washing over me. Landon was here. He was safe. He would probably eat his weight in comfort food before the end of the night, but that was something to rejoice.

I opened my mouth to greet him, something schmaltzy on the tip of my tongue, but that was the moment Aunt Tillie made her presence known.

“What the … ? Thistle! You’d better start running now. I know this was you.”

Ah, the magical ants were doing their work. I spared a glance over my shoulder and locked gazes with Thistle. “That probably wasn’t a good idea now that we’re all stuck here for the night.”

Thistle shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all under control.”

That was a frightening thought. “How?”

“Watch.” Thistle winked. “I didn’t do it, Aunt Tillie,” she called out. “It was Bay. You should put her on the top of your list.”

My mouth dropped open as I realized what was happening. “You’re dead to me,” I seethed, my cheeks burning. “You’re so dead they’ll have to think of a new word for dead.”

Thistle merely grinned. “Ah, it’s good to spend time with family.”

Something told me she wouldn’t feel that way by the end of the night.

“HEY, SWEETIE.”

Landon was all smiles when he strolled into the room. I did my best to pretend I hadn’t been panicking about his safety and even managed to pull off a cool smile for about ten seconds … and then I was on him.

“I was worried.” I gave him a fierce hug. “You should’ve stopped at a hotel instead of braving the roads.”

“Where were you?” Chief Terry asked.

“Elk Rapids. They had a big meth bust. I needed to sign paperwork, so I was there later than I wanted. The weather wasn’t that bad when I left. By the time I got here, though, it was terrible. The last five miles between town and the inn took me almost forty-five minutes.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely nasty out there,” Clove agreed. “By the way, we’re all staying here for the night. That includes you and Bay. If you don’t like it … well … suck it up.”

Landon snickered. “You decide to be the bold one at the oddest of times.”

“I have to be the bold one tonight. Thistle and Bay are on Aunt Tillie’s list.”

Landon’s eyes lighted with amusement. “Oh, well, fun!” He kissed my forehead. “You need to unclench a bit, Bay. I’m fine. It was a rough ride, but I’m safe. Everyone is under one roof together, which I think is going to mean that things will get loud before the end of the night.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Thistle intoned. “I already cursed Aunt Tillie to feel as if she has ants in her pants and then told her Bay did it. We’re just getting started.”

“Sounds fun.” Landon smoothed my hair. “Do you think she’ll whip out the bacon curse as retribution? If we’re going to be snowed in, I can’t think of a better way to pass the time.”

“You want to spend the time sniffing your girlfriend?” Chief Terry’s tone was dry. “I don’t want to see that. In fact, I’m putting my foot down and demanding that no one gets cursed to smell like bacon. It might be a big inn, but it’ll feel small once we’ve spent a few hours together.”

“And we haven’t even started drinking yet,” Thistle added, sliding her eyes to the right when the dining room door swung open to allow Aunt Tillie entrance.

Describing Aunt Tillie isn’t easy. She’s four feet and eleven inches of pure mayhem. Tonight, for example, she wore St. Patrick’s Day leggings, an oversized “I’m Here for the Boos” shirt and slippers with bunnies on them. Oh, and for the record, the bunnies looked stoned. Er, maybe they were meant to represent the rabbit from Monty Python and The Holy Grail. Yeah, that made more sense.

“There’s the woman of the hour.” Landon beamed as he released me. “If you’re going to punish Bay, I want to request something that smells like bacon before the wine starts flowing. I figure if I get my request in early you’ll be far more likely to take it into consideration.”

Aunt Tillie shot Landon a withering look. “She won’t smell like bacon when I’m done with her. I can promise you that.”

Landon wasn’t about to be deterred. “How about pot roast? That might be fun. Or … wait … we’re snowed in.” His eyes lighted with food delirium. No, honestly, he’s a very food-oriented guy. “Chili. I love the smell of chili. Make her smell like chili and I’ll give you three freebies on your pot field this summer.”

Despite herself, Aunt Tillie was clearly intrigued by the suggestion. “Define ‘freebie.’”

“I’ll look the other way and not arrest you for illegally growing pot.”

Aunt Tillie snorted. “You have no proof that I’m growing pot. You have a theory, which you can’t back with facts. You’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want me to make her smell like chili.”

“You could split the difference and make her smell like a Coney dog,” Thistle suggested. “If you add onions to the mix, it’s bound to mess things up.”

I scorched Thistle with the meanest look in my repertoire. “We’re totally going to throw down once the chocolate martinis start flowing. You’d better prepare yourself.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

I slid my eyes to Aunt Tillie and found her tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips. She looked pensive, which was never a good thing. “I don’t want to smell like a chili dog.”

“No one asked you.” Aunt Tillie’s gaze was pointed when it snagged with mine. “You’re in big trouble, by the way. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the keister all afternoon.”

“You spent the entire afternoon here?” Landon’s expression was hard to read as he took a seat. “Why didn’t you go to the newspaper office?”

“You know why.”

Landon’s lips curved downward. “Do you want me to talk to him? I warned him once about giving you a hard time, but he’s clearly not a fan of listening.”

If I thought my relationship with Brian Kelly was testy, Landon’s interactions with the man in question had been downright explosive the past few weeks. He was one insult away from punching my former boss in the face.

“Let it go,” I instructed. “It’s only another week. I can make it until then.”

Landon didn’t look convinced. “I don’t want you suffering through his moods, Bay. It’s not fair or right. You shouldn’t be afraid to go into your own office.”

“I agree with Landon,” Aunt Tillie said, taking me by surprise. “You’re being a big baby. Suck it up.”

“That’s not exactly what I said,” Landon argued.

“Huh. That’s what I heard.” Aunt Tillie held up her hand to quiet Landon while remaining focused on me. “We’re not done talking about this one whining all day. You totally ruined my afternoon.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said I was worse than Clove when it came to being a kvetch,” I pointed out. “That’s quite possibly the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Thistle snorted. “Not even close. Two weeks ago she said you were the rancid mayonnaise in a whiny sandwich. That’s way worse than being a kvetch.”

“She said I was a worse kvetch than Clove,” I clarified. “I mean … Clove!”

“That is bad,” Thistle noted. “Things could be worse.”

“You guys know I’m sitting right here, right?” Clove was furious. “It’s going to be a long night if you keep this up.”

“It’s going to be a long night regardless,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I was watching my stories. You know I don’t like being interrupted when I’m watching my stories.”

Landon cocked an eyebrow. “Stories?”

“Soap operas,” Thistle supplied. “She loves soap operas. She used to make us watch them with her when we were little – even though they were beyond stupid – and I’m still traumatized by the experience.”

“Watch it, mouth,” Aunt Tillie warned, her expression serious. “You want to be very careful when you’re talking about my stories.”

Thistle snorted. “You made us watch that one where the guy had a twin brother hidden in his house and no one knew it. For like six straight months I thought we had people hidden in the basement.”

“Everyone has secret twin brothers and sisters in Pine Valley,” Aunt Tillie argued. “That show is gone, by the way. They’ve canceled almost all my stories. I only have four left and it’s criminal, quite frankly. In fact … .” She turned to Landon. “Instead of arresting poor pot growers you should focus your attention on taking out the people who canceled my soaps. That would be a much better way for you to spend your time.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Landon prodded me to sit in the open chair next to him, grabbing my hand and tracing his fingers over my palm. “Bay, I’m serious about this Brian Kelly situation. Maybe you should let me talk to him.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Aunt Tillie didn’t give me a chance.

“Bay will handle her own issues with Brian Kelly. You don’t always need to swoop in. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Landon countered. “I’m just … worried. He’s getting progressively worse and he seems a bit unbalanced.”

“And not in a fun way, like you, Aunt Tillie,” Thistle added, grinning.

“You’re definitely on my list,” Aunt Tillie warned.

“I’ll talk to him,” Landon announced. He was clearly ignoring the other conversations bouncing around the room. “He needs a good warning.”

“If you were in a soap opera, you’d throw a drink in his face and slap him around right about now,” Aunt Tillie said. “That would be a lot more fun than whatever you’re planning.”

“Yes, well, we don’t live in a soap opera,” Landon said. “I know it feels as if we do sometimes, but we don’t.”

“Think about how much fun it would be if we did, though.” Aunt Tillie’s eyes momentarily sparkled, but she remembered where she was and quickly turned dour again when facing off with Thistle. “I would make you the person trapped in a well for months if this were a soap opera.”

“And I would make you the person locked in a basement,” Thistle fired back. “Our lives are close enough to soap operas. We don’t need to make things worse.”

She had a point. “So … who wants to start drinking before dinner?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

A bevy of hands shot into the air, including Chief Terry’s.

“What?” he protested. “I can already see how this night is going to go. I want to numb myself appropriately.”

He wasn’t the only one. “Let’s start with chocolate martinis and go from there.”

“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Landon enthused. “Now if only you smelled like chili while drinking your chocolate martini, all would be right in my world.”