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A Hill to Dye On

Chapter One

hovered in the open door, trying not to draw attention to myself, or to the fact that I was late.

“Be gentle.” Kitty, one of my best friends, had her fingers wrapped around a woman’s arm, slowing her movements as she pressed the mini practice skein into the water. “You don’t want to felt it.”

“If that girl looked any happier, she’d drop her harp plumb through the cloud.”

I stifled a laugh as I turned to Emmilene. “You do have a way of saying things, but you’re right. Kitty’s practically glowing. She’s a great teacher.”

Emmilene nodded.

We eased into the room as Kitty led the class through the next steps.

“Add in your citric acid and stir it so it dissolves.” Kitty offered a sassy grin. “You can use vinegar as the mordant, but I didn’t think the weight lifting class down the hall would appreciate breathing the smell of it while they worked on their muscles.”

Giggles rippled through the class, and I noticed a couple of ladies eye the doorway behind me as if hoping to catch a glimpse.

Emmilene’s efforts to put up walls in the unused portion of the old equipment building that housed the community center had allowed anyone in town to host classes there. Some, like Kitty’s yarn dying class, were sponsored by the shops or restaurants, and others were taught by residents who wouldn’t otherwise have much of a chance to contribute to the community.

The weight room had become a favorite with visitors to the resort down the road as well as with the locals, and a person would have to be blind not to notice the ogling it had spawned.

“That’s my cue to head to the gym. I want to lay my eyes on Grant’s muscles.” Emmilene and her husband didn’t need an excuse to make doe eyes. They flirted like teenagers in love for the first time instead of a couple who’d been married for a decade or more. “Looks like Kitty’s class is going smoothly, but if you need anything, y’all let me know.”

I waved as Emmilene slipped out the door, then I focused on Kitty.

She walked her class through adding the dye to their pots, making teaching look easy.

She was a born leader, when she wasn’t hiding behind her worries — or her brother.

Maybe I should hire her to teach more than this one class.

Or I could steal her from Daniel’s nanobrewery completely and have her help me in the yarn store when she wasn’t teaching.

“Your skeins have been soaking long enough. Go ahead and lift them out of your tubs and set them into the dye pot. Don’t forget your gloves.” Kitty pulled on a pair of long yellow dish gloves, then lifted her own unwound skein from the soak and set it in her pot of dye. “These mini skeins don’t tangle too badly, but it’s a good idea to get in the habit of tucking the yarn around the edges of the pan so when you move to full skeins you’re less likely to have a knotted mess on your hands.”

Kitty walked along the tables as her students transferred their yarn from one container to the other. She beamed at the woman who kept trying to rush the process. “Remember to be gentle as you press the yarn to submerge it.”

Everyone watched for bubbles as their hot plates heated the dye, and I started to back out the door. Kitty didn’t need me hovering, even if I enjoyed seeing my friend so sure of herself.

I grinned and waved as she glanced my direction.

Kitty froze. Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face.

I frowned. Was she worried I might be disappointed with how the class was going? She was doing a great job.

Another step backward and I ran into something hard. Hands landed on my shoulders, keeping me from falling over.

“Careful.” The deep voice was tense, as if he was trying to blot out any emotion.

I turned. The man was built like a mountain, all muscles and valleys. Something in his look set me on edge. “Can I help you?”

He shook his head, his eyes glued to something behind me. “I’ve found who I’m looking for.”

I followed his gaze.

Kitty.

She knew him, and from the way her hands were shaking, she didn’t want him here. She made her way down the line of tables, peeking in the dye pots as she went. When she spoke, her voice had lost the confidence she’d had just moments before. “Wait for your pot to reach a simmer, then turn off the heat. We’ll talk about some of the other dying methods while we wait for the water to come back down to room temperature.”

She walked toward me and the mystery man, her face pinched. “Holden.”

“Kitty.” He paused. “It’s, uh, been a while.”

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you.”

She glanced at me, then straightened her shoulders and shook her head. “I’m in the middle of a class.”

“Please, Kitty.”

She closed her eyes for a breath, then opened them. She had a better poker face than half Brandon’s poker group. “Fine, but not until after class. Go check out the town or something and come back in an hour.”

“You’ll be here?”

A flash of emotion shot through her eyes. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay.”

I waited until he left, then turned to Kitty. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She didn’t get it.

I’d spent fifteen years traveling the world without bothering to send her so much as a postcard. When I settled in Clear Creek and realized how much friendship meant, I promised myself I’d do better. And for the past three months, I had. I wasn’t going to stop now.

“I’m at least staying until he comes back so he knows I know you’re with him.” Anyone who shrank Kitty’s hard-earned confidence would end up on my own personal watch list.

She opened her mouth to argue, but one of the students called out that she couldn’t get the hot plate to turn off and Kitty scurried over to help.

The rest of the class crawled by with Kitty talking about speckling, self-striping, hand painting, and whatever else she’d included in her handouts — and it all swam together as I faced questions I wasn’t sure I’d be able to convince Kitty to answer.

I had no idea who this Holden was, but I didn’t like him.

The class finally ended, the students wrapped their yarn in something waterproof to take home and hang dry, and the room emptied. Kitty tried to smile as I helped her gather and clean the supplies.

Finally, I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “Will you be okay meeting with that guy? Something about him was . . . off-putting.”

“I’ll be fine.” Her hesitation didn’t match her words.

I didn’t say anything, hoping she’d jump in to fill the silence.

“We were friends, once. A long time ago.” A blush crept up her face.

Ah. Well, then. “He may not be the person you remember. You’ll fill me in later so I don’t worry?”

Holden filled the doorway, and Kitty nodded. “I’ll stop by after dinner tonight.”

It was barely lunchtime, but Kitty’s darting eyes warned me not to push too hard. “Go ahead. I’ll finish up here.”

Neither of them said anything as they disappeared down the hall.

It didn’t take long to put things away, but my mind spun the whole time. On my way out of the building I texted Brandon to see if he knew anything about Holden.

After stopping at the Creekside Cafe for my standing lunch order, I made my way back to the yarn shop. After three months it was finally starting to feel as if it belonged to me instead of like I was just filling in for my grandmother.

I unlocked the door and flipped the sign to invite customers in, then settled down to eat while I opened a new romance book. My grandmother had hidden a cowboy romance in her bookcase, and it was so out of character for her that I’d had to read it, even though I’d always gone for less . . . fluffy books. One book turned into two, then three, then ten, and I was hooked.

Customers started to arrive, and Shorn, the Selkirk Rex cat I’d inherited with the yarn shop, deigned to make an appearance and allowed herself to be fawned over.

When I finally had a chance to look at my phone, I’d missed Brandon’s reply that he thought Kitty had dated someone named Holden as a teenager.

Another text popped onto the screen, this one from my mother. I pushed my phone back into my pocket without reading it. If it was an emergency, she’d call. Since she hadn’t, I didn’t want to deal with another complaint that I’d chosen to stay in Clear Creek instead of sticking with my old life.

After locking the door and turning the sign back to Out Knitting, I went into the kitchen. My well-stocked pantry only got use when my friends took pity on me, because even Emmilene had given up on teaching me when I burned a slice of bread in her toaster and killed the appliance.

But the joke was on them. I was going to learn to cook one of these days.

Just not today.

A bowl of cereal later — it tasted like cardboard, but Brandon had promised it was good for me and I’d learn to like it, if I didn’t throw it at his head first — I slipped outside and sat in the wide swing hanging from the tree out front to wait.

The sun set early in the small valley nestled between mountain peaks, but the summer sky still glowed when Kitty came into view. Her pixie face hadn’t regained all her color yet, but she was safe.

Tension drained from my shoulders, leaving them sore from carrying the stress all afternoon.

Slow steps brought Kitty closer. Her poker face was firmly in place.

I tried to look relaxed. “You want to swing with me?”

A tiny bubble of laughter escaped Kitty before she shut it down. “We’d break either the rope or the tree. Maybe we should go inside?”

Privacy. If it would make her more comfortable, I could help her out. “Sure. I have ice cream.”

“You always have ice cream.”

Only because Brandon knew I liked it. He’d restocked my supply every few days since I moved here.

I hopped off the swing and led her to the kitchen door. “What flavor do you want?”

“No ice cream for me tonight, I’m not staying long. I have to check on my dye pot soon. I’ll have some raspberry colored skeins ready for you in a couple days.”

“Then I’ll get right to it.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. I didn’t have as many questions as I expected. Or, I did, but most of them didn’t really matter. “Why were you so upset when that man walked in?”

Kitty smirked, copying my stance, the width of the room between us. “His name is Holden.”

“Are you scared of him?”

“Of course not.” She paused. “Not really.”

“That clears things right up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. He was my boyfriend. It was ages ago, but — he’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

The back of my neck prickled. From what I’d been able to figure out based on Brandon’s teenager comment, that was about the same time my friend folded in on herself. Her spunk and flair had been replaced with the timid woman I’d been trying to coax back into fun. “What happened?”

“It ended badly.” She shook her head at my raised brows. “He wasn’t abusive.”

I waited, hoping for more so I’d know how much to hate the guy.

Kitty sighed, then crossed to sit at the table. “I’d like to leave the past where it belongs.”

Fine. “Everyone deserves their secrets.”

“What are yours?” Her eyes sparkled as she rested her chin in her hand. “I have a few guesses.”

“Everyone knows my entire life is on my travel vlog.” I resisted the urge to fan my heating face. I hoped she wouldn’t guess Brandon and I were a couple. That was a secret we’d managed to hide from everyone — even Granny, the matriarch of Gossip Central — for several weeks. Sure, they’d find out eventually, but it was fun to sneak around behind their backs, and it took the pressure off.

“So you say. Holden and I had our problems, but he pulled through for me in the end. Now it’s my turn to help him.” Kitty stood and tucked the chair back under the table. “Come on, walk me home. I want to introduce you.”

I grabbed her arm. “You aren’t telling me he’s staying at your house.”

“He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You haven’t seen him in ages. Letting him into your home is a bad idea.” No. It was a terrible idea.

Kitty pushed me toward the door. “Go. Holden has some questions, and I’m hoping you can introduce him to Deputy Chase so he can get answers.”

Was the fact he wanted to talk to a deputy a good thing, or did it mean he was trying to find a way to get out of trouble? “I’m pretty sure Matthew’s going to poker night tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you call him Matthew. I’ve never heard anyone call him that. Even Brandon calls him Chase.”

I shrugged. Brandon had worked at the sheriff’s office with the deputy, so it wasn’t a surprise he used his former boss’s last name. “If Matthew didn’t want me to use his first name he wouldn’t have told me what it is.”

Kitty muttered an insult.

The tourists were gone for the day, and the air was still and peaceful as we made our way to Kitty’s little house on the edge of what everyone called a town. I was convinced it was a village, but no one listened to me. The old lumber camp turned mining town turned shopping destination had always been, and would always be, considered a town by the people who lived here, but that didn’t keep me from arguing with history.

The house had always been pale purple, but when Kitty had given it a fresh coat of paint she’d chosen a brighter shade. It told me the adventurous streak she’d been hiding for too long hadn’t withered away.

“Is Holden in trouble?” The house beside the creek could have been plucked right out of a fairytale. If Kitty’s ex-boyfriend had brought trouble to my friend’s sanctuary, I’d throttle him. Or at least ask Matthew to run a background check on him.

“You worry too much.”

Before I could call her on evading my question, she opened the door. “Holden?”

I stepped inside behind her and closed the door. The small front room was tiny — and empty. “Maybe he left.”

Kitty frowned at me. “Why would he leave if he came to me for help?”

Maybe he’d come for something other than help. Or maybe he’d just changed his mind.

“He was in the kitchen when I left.”

I followed my friend into the next room.

Kitty stumbled in the doorway, and her foot slipped across the floor.

I grabbed her arm to keep her on her feet. “Are you okay?”

“What the —”

I looked past her shoulder. Deep raspberry puddles and splashes decorated the room. The dye pot on the stove was tipped over, and half-colored wet yarn spilled down the front of the oven door.

“Holden?” Kitty called. She pushed past me and checked the bedroom, then the bathroom. “He’s not here.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe he was scared you’d be mad about the mess.” I would have been relieved he was gone if I wasn’t worried Kitty would think she’d let her ex down somehow.