No, more than that. To be with Gabe, to be the one making him laugh. To see him smile and have the sound of his low voice washing over her. Maybe to take his hand and…

She rolled her eyes.

You’re a fool, Audrey.

Chapter Twelve

One more tie with Chicago had been broken. The movers had emptied Audrey’s apartment.

After reading Dennison’s email, she’d returned to the cabin and just…sat at the table. A morass of depression sucked at her spirits, and she tried to back away.

It was just an apartment.

It was my apartment.

Decorated the way she wanted.

No, don’t think that way.

She’d planned to move someday, anyway.

Eventually.

She blew out a breath. It felt as if she had shifting sand under her feet. No home.

Because although she was living here in the cabin, it wasn’t hers. The place was a charity loan, plain and simple. Somehow, she needed to make enough to pay Dante rent.

Speaking of making money, she needed to get moving. Her job at the roadhouse started in a few minutes. A Thursday night should be busy. She’d get tips.

As she gathered her keys and coat, she gave herself her orders for the evening. Tonight, she would be outgoing and sociable. She would.

While working on the garden this morning, Lillian had given Audrey advice about fitting into a small town. Don’t try to be chatty—like that would ever happen—but participate in conversations. Express interest. Ask questions. Get involved in the groups and events going on in town.

Audrey sighed. Lillian insisted that dealing with people was as much a skill as playing the piano or hitting a baseball. If an activity didn’t come naturally, of course it needed practice. Being sociable might feel as awkward as learning a new sport.

No kidding. Practice, practice, practice. She grabbed her keys. And try not to be late for work.

Moving quickly, Audrey stepped out of her cabin, locked the door, and—

“Oh shit.”

A shaggy monstrosity stood beside her car. Munching on a bush.

Whoa, that was a moose.

Talk about huge. Its butt and humped shoulders were feet higher than her car roof.

And it had antlers. Not huge ones. Covered with fuzzy velvet. And still frighteningly deadly looking.

She backed up, bumped into her door, squeaked. As it looked over, she hastily unlocked the cabin and dove inside.

When she peeked out again, the beast hadn’t even moved. It was eating.

And it kept eating.

“No, no, no. Don’t you realize I have to get to work?” She stuck her head out. “Go away.”

No reaction.

She raised her voice. “Go away!”

Ears flicked. It looked up, showing a flap waving below its chin.

Still eating.

It reminded her of the perpetually hungry university students. Stepping out on the porch, she yelled at it. “Go away, you stupid thing. Shoo!”