Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Oh, I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a character.” I hold up the key. “You want to go check out the room while I move the camper? Then, if the space seems safe, we can unload our things?”
“Good plan,” she says, frowning.
“What’s up?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I wanted to Google something but I’m not getting service. I’ll log into the Wi-Fi once we get to the room.” She nods to Freya. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go see our room for the night.”
I head back to the camper, the ominous feeling from when we first pulled into the lot returning as I load into the driver’s seat and move the vehicle to the edge of the asphalt, as directed.
It’s just so…quiet. And so dark.
The sun only set a few minutes ago, but it’s already nearly black under the trees. I have to turn on the flashlight on my phone to follow the path to bungalow nine. The temperature drops beneath the fir branches, as well, making me wish I’d grabbed our winter coats. If Tessa decides she wants to stay, I’ll run back and grab those and the camping flashlights before we go fetch the bags.
But that’s a big “if” at this point. If the inside of our cabin is as faded and run-down as the outside, Tessa might prefer the relative luxury of the camper, even without running water.
I let myself in, calling out, “Hello?” as I swing through the door, stepping into…one of the cutest spaces I’ve ever seen.
I laugh as I turn in a slow circle, taking in the small sitting room and large fireplace, decorated to look like an old French castle. There’s also a small “dungeon” under the stairs, complete with bars and toys in bins—a great place for kids to play or…for ferrets to explore. Freya is already pawing through a bin of wooden blocks, chattering happily to herself.
“Looks like Freya approves of the new digs.” I move through the sitting room to an equally cute and cozy kitchenette, complete with a breakfast nook beneath a window overlooking the murky forest. “This is nice, right?”
Tessa, perched on the edge of the bench beneath the window, looks up from her phone, her face pale.
“What?” I ask, my stomach tightening again. “What’s wrong? Did you find a dead mouse in the bathroom?”
“No.” She gulps as she turns her screen my way. “It’s a Tommyknocker. That’s what they look like.”
I grunt, taking in a small, dwarf-like creature from a fantasy novel with green skin and a hint of a muzzle where its nose should be. “Creepy. But at least they’re small. I think we could take a few of them in a fight.”
“They look like leprechauns,” she whispers.
I nod. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”
“I hate leprechauns,” she says, her eyes beginning to shine. “I hate them so much.”
Before I can respond, something smacks hard against the roof—like a coconut falling from a tree—and Tessa dives under the table with a scream.
Chapter 20
TESSA
I remain under the table, trembling and muttering to myself until Wes returns from outside.
“It was a tree limb,” he says, crouching down to peer at me beneath the pretty, strawberry-print tablecloth. “A big one, but it slid off the roof onto the ground out back. Hopefully, it didn’t do any serious damage.” He sighs, scanning my face. “Do you want to go? I can carry you to the camper and come back for Freya.”
My lips twitch. “I don’t need to be carried. I could run. If I needed to.” I pull in a deeper breath, willing my racing heart to slow. “But if it was just a tree limb…”
“We can still go,” Wes says gently. “You won’t sleep well if you’re scared.”
And we might be murdered by blood-thirsty leprechauns before morning, I add silently.
Aloud, I insist, “No, it’s okay. It’s been a big day. I’m sure I’ll sleep just fine…once I drink all the Sleepytime tea in the cupboard.” I motion toward the play dungeon. “And Freya’s having so much fun. Or she was. Did the limb scare her, too?”
Wes shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem like it. She’s still playing with the blocks. I think she might have a future in architectural design.”
I force another weak smile. “Funny.”
His brow furrows. “I think I know what we need to do.”
“What’s that?” I glance around my hiding place. “Get out from under the table? I may actually sleep under here. It’s very clean. And if a leprechaun breaks in in the middle of the night, they’re not going to look under the tablecloth.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange?”
“Strange that there are leprechauns in Colorado? Yes, but I guess it’s not all that crazy when you think about it. Ireland has mountains. Colorado has mountains. It’s cold there, too. And green. They probably feel very at home here.”