Ghost of Winters Past by Gail MacMillan

Author:Gail MacMillan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2012-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Corporal Palmer drove Michaela back to the snowmobile garage. With twilight bringing shifting shadows into the bush, she climbed aboard her machine and headed for the Lodge as fast as she dared press the old machine. Visions of Travis spilling spaghetti sauce into the Premier’s lap danced through her head.

In the yard she found a parked collection of snowmobiles. Light and laughter flooded out into the crisp cold of the winter night. Two men in snowmobile suits stood on either side of the door. Security people. She dismounted and went up the steps, pulling her wallet from inside her jacket.

“Michaela Dunn, current proprietor of Promise Lodge.” She flipped it open and handed it to the man on the right.

“Looks okay.” He examined her ID in the illumination of the porch light. “You’re expected.” He opened the door.

Light, warmth, ripples of laughter, good-natured conversation, and the music of a guitar and someone singing a country western tune greeted her. She stepped inside and looked around. The place was next to overflowing, each table with a full complement of diners. At the middle table the Premier and his wife sat chatting and laughing with their companions, coffee and slices of pie in front of them. On one of the stools at the counter sat Travis MacDonald strumming her uncle’s old guitar and singing. Michaela paused to listen.

Pretty darn good. Maybe that explains his mysterious past. He’s a runaway country music star.

She hung her headgear on a peg by the door, unfastened her jacket, and revised the thought. Definitely not a professional musician. If he were, he’d be gyrating around the room, not sitting quietly in front of his audience.

“Travis, how about another slice of that great pie?” The Premier tapped an empty plate when the song ended. “Best I’ve had in ages. And maybe a bit more coffee?”

“Yes, sir.” Travis laid aside the guitar and reached toward the counter. Picking up a plate holding more pie, he took the coffeepot in the other hand. “Ice cream with that, Mr. Premier?”

“Definitely. Can’t remember when I’ve had such a great meal or such a good time. Do you know ‘Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain?’ It’s Linda’s favorite.” He took his wife’s hand on the table and smiled at her.

“I’ll give it try, but I’m no Willie Nelson.”

Travis returned to the counter, picked up the guitar, and resumed his seat on one of the stools. As he strummed the first few bars of the old country classic, Michaela felt a sigh ease through her lips. Once again, Travis MacDonald had saved the day. In fact, it looked as if he’d made the day, judging from the mood of the guests.

“Good evening, Mr. Premier.” Michaela crossed the room to greet the guest of honor. “I’m Michaela Dunn. I’m managing Promise Lodge while my aunt and uncle are on vacation.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dunn.” Shane Gray stood to accept her extended hand. “I mean it. Your family has done a remarkable job in protecting and maintaining this place as a wilderness retreat.

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