Pedestrians shuffle along the snowy landscape of the antique shops and mom-and-pop restaurants.
In the church tower, the bells clang noon. My eyes start to close against the hypnotic knock of the bells.
My mind drifts back to when I sold my house and moved in with Milestone County’s Sheriff Philip Erickson.
Everything changed. I was no longer alone. I now slept beside a sexy snoring sheriff. And I have someone to talk to whenever I have a problem I can’t quite work out on my own. Lying in Philip’s arms feels like being in love for the very first time.
The sound of ice and snow crunching beneath tires breaks my train of thought.
Lurching forward, I yank on the collar of my heavy pea coat to protect my neck from the bitingly cold wind. Pedestrians pass me, shielding their faces with gloved hands against the icy afternoon. Bundled up against the harsh winter elements, they head purposefully towards their destinations