Whispers In The Wind
de, battering the sides of her SUV like an angry spirit, and the headlights barely cut through the swirling snowstorm. She'd read abou
e. She slowed to a crawl, scanning for any sign of civilization. A wooden sign, half-buried in snow, suddenly appe
der the weight of fresh snow. At the end of the path, a rustic inn emerged, its warm, golden lights flickering thro
around her, she grabbed her camera bag and a small duffel, leaving the bulk of her gear be
tall, with broad shoulders and a face that seemed carved from stone-strong jawline,
e was deep, carrying
his intensity. "Uh, yeah. I'm Sierra
immediate and comforting, a stark contrast to the icy gale outside.
ndshake. His grip was firm but not overly so,
one wall, surrounded by plush armchairs and a well-worn rug. Wooden beams stret
tiful," she said, s
nger on pleasantries. "You're lucky you made it here before t
s settled over her. "C
e. This isn't a mild storm." He folded his
had a schedule, a list of locations to photograph, and deadlines to m
he most of it." She forced a smile.
hind the counter and handed it to her. "Ro
but charming, with a quilt-covered bed, a vintage writing desk, and a window overlooking the sn
ing snow higher by the second. Sierra leaned back, her thoughts wand
spent years chasing sunsets, scaling mountains, and venturing into the unknown. Commitment-whether to a person, a place, or even a routine-had never
her from her thoughts. Hunger gnawed at her
n door. Alex stood at the counter, pouring coffee into a pair of
some," he said wi
ng a mug. "Thanks. Do you alwa
e most
ut?" She took a sip,
r of something unreadable cros
couraging further questions. Sierra shifted
n to pry," sh
his gaze distant. "People come here to get
ued by his guarded demeano
Better than th
the crackling fire in the lobby. Sierra wondered wh
guests," he said final
at suppose
e for the solitude. Y
n. "Restless is kind of my default.
quickly the tension between them had eased. Maybe
ide the walls of Windhaven Inn, the crackling fire and