Inside the grocery store, the bartender—no, she needed to stop thinking of him like that. He was Bull. She was so slow-witted, it’d taken her a whole day to put Bull the bartender together with Bull’s Moose Roadhouse and ask Felix if Bull, the bartender, owned the place.

The man was her employer, and everybody liked him, except her. Then again, people showed a different side of themselves to work associates. She’d just been lucky—unlucky—enough to see him with his lover.

After all, everybody at the modeling agency liked Jaxson—except for the women he’d screwed over who thought he was the biggest wart on the face of the planet.

“Was your car all right?” Audrey asked, turning toward Frankie.

What exactly had she told Audrey and Bull about her car? That seemed ages ago. “Um, fine. All fine.”

After a searching stare, Bull picked up her basket of groceries and set it on the counter for her. “So, how are you settling in?”

Oh, no, not conversation. It was the last thing she wanted right now when all her thoughts were focused on Kit.

Get it together. You’re a tourist who took a job for fun. Focus, Frankie.

She unpacked the basket onto the counter. “Well enough, thank you. I have to admit it’s disconcerting to wake up to birds singing instead of traffic and horns and sirens.” Where was the rumble of the subway under her feet, the wailing of sirens, chiming church bells, and blasting car radios? Where were the street and subway musicians?

Homesickness hollowed out a place beneath her sternum. She’d cried last night like a little five-year-old away on her first sleep-over. Cavolo. Definitely holy crap. Her eyes were still red. Hopefully, they hadn’t noticed.

The bartender didn’t seem to miss much.

She set a loaf of French bread onto the counter. “I never thought I’d miss the sound of traffic. Or pigeons cooing or even a screeching gull.”

“I understand all too well.” Audrey started ringing up the groceries. “I’ve only been here about a year—from Chicago. Would you believe I rented your cabin on the lake before I moved in with Gabe?”

“Really?” Another city person. “Then you get it—about the lack of noise. And strange sounds around the cabin?”

A frown creased Bull’s forehead. “What sounds?”

“Like someone or something is moving around outside. And there are weird hoots and sometimes a scream.”

A faint smile deepened the sun lines beside his eyes. “You’re on a lake. Lots of animals will wander down to get a drink or to hunt. Moose and bear don’t care how much noise they make. The hoots are—”

“Excuse me. Bears? Bears…outside my cabin?”

“’Fraid so, yeah.” The amusement in his eyes increased.