Snowed In

Chapter 2

Kate had been surprised when Captain Montgomery had approved her leave on such short notice. He'd offered her his concern and sympathy for her uncle's health, and told her to take as much time as she required. Kate hadn't been aware of this, but apparently, she had incurred a lot of unused vacation time—a result of her workaholic lifestyle—that needed to be spent before the next budget review, so her captain wasn't overly concerned with how much time she took off.

"You're the best detective I have, Beckett," Montgomery had said. "You put everything into the job, and that makes you the best. But, there's no point in doing the job if you don't have a life."

She had wanted to argue the point, but chose not to. Her captain was more than just her superior officer. Roy Montgomery had become a mentor and an almost surrogate father figure during the darker times of Jim Beckett's alcoholism. He was someone she trusted and respected, and she knew better than to argue when he offered up some advice based on his years of experience on the job and with life in general.

So, without further protests and much thanks, Kate clocked out of work and headed for her apartment, where she quickly packed, planning for perhaps two to three weeks—depending on her uncle's condition—and hopped in her car, heading out of the city for her Aunt Theresa's place in a cozy little town in upstate New York.

With only mild traffic—the worst of it was getting out of the city—Kate arrived at her aunt's place around mid-afternoon. Getting out of the car, she shivered at the slight chill in the air. She zipped up her gray NYPD hoodie and bundled her hands in the front pockets as she hurried up the front steps of the large elegant home that was bigger than any other house on the block.

Her feet had barely touched the front porch, when the door opened. A woman just a tad bit shorter than her with features not too dissimilar from Jim Beckett smiled at her.

"Kate, my dear! You made it!"

She was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace. Kate returned it with affection. She'd always liked her Aunt Theresa, and had many happy childhood memories from when her family visited.

"I'm sorry about Uncle Herb," Kate said. "How is he?"

"They called it a mild myocardial infarction, or something like that, as if a heart attack could be mild!" Theresa exclaimed. "Doctors! Humph. Anyways, they wanted to keep him overnight in hospital, perhaps another day, for observation. He's going to have to cut down on the red meat, which didn't please him, but he's doing fine so far, just a bit worn out from it all. I think he's still wrapping his head around it. Me too, if I'm being honest."

"That's good, I suppose," Kate said, giving her aunt another hug. "I'm here for as long as you need."

"Oh, honey, that's so sweet of you," Theresa teared up. "I certainly do need help. Margot went into labor. As long as you don't mind doing some cleaning, laundry, and perhaps cooking."

Kate offered her aunt a smile. "I'm happy too," she assured. "You were there for Dad and I when…" Her voice trailed off in a sad little waver. Her throat seemed to tightened, and her chest clenched.

"I know, dear," Theresa patted her arm. "You're family. Family sticks together."

"Yes," Kate managed to get out. "We stick together."

"Now…," Theresa wrapped an arm around Kate, squeezing slightly. "Let's get you in from the chill. I have a sandwich and coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, and afterwards, we'll get your bags up to the guest room."

XXX

Rick Castle pulled his black Mercedes onto the shoulder of the road, and turned on the emergency blinkers. He reached for his iPhone and opened up the Maps app. The GPS said he was going in the correct direction, though Castle didn't know how wise it was to trust technology to guide him so far out of the city.

But, as he blinked his eyes and stared ahead in the fading light, he spotted a marker on the horizon. By squinting he could make out the highway number, confirming he was on the right route.

Putting his cell back down in the passenger seat, next to the pamphlet for the Hollister Bed & Breakfast, Castle switched off the blinkers and merged back onto the two-lane highway. He passed several cars, and one semi-truck, going in the opposite direction for ten miles before speed reduction signs started to pop up.

And then, about three miles later, one of those quaint small town welcome signs, decorated with drawings that represented unique aspects of the town, appeared. It was all so very much out of a Hallmark movie. In large friendly letters visitors were welcomed to STRANGE CREEK, NY—Where Strangers Become Friends!

Castle suppressed an eyeroll at the ridiculous slogan, painted in a bright blue cursive font underneath the name of the town. He soon discovered that this was one of those places where the highway ran straight through the middle of town. Slowing down, he entered what was the main street of Strange Creek.

Glancing around, he noticed numerous little Mom and Pop type boutique stores that catered to weekenders and city folk like himself. He also spotted an ice cream parlor, a bar that resembled one of those country English pubs (which looked promising), a pizzeria, a post office, a barber's shop, with the classic striped pole outside, and two competing antique shops located right across from one another.

Yes, he thought, very quaint.

After driving past what appeared to be the local hardware shop, his iPhone beeped, and Siri informed him to turn right at the next intersection. He flicked on his signal and waited at the stoplight. After taking two more turns, Castle spotted a large elegant house with a wraparound porch with wooded patches buffering it from the other houses along the street. Some of the trees were dusted with light patches of snow.

Castle was once again reminded of those Hallmark movies.

"Is Gina trying to get me to right romance novels?" he muttered to himself as he turned left, entering a gravel driveway. He followed the signs that directed him to an opened space behind the building, where other cars were parked.

Castle rolled his Mercedes to a stop beside a sedan just as the sun started to set. Always the curious fellow, a writer needed to absorbed details to generate his fiction, he discerned the vehicle to be a mid to late 2000s Ford Crown Victoria, a vehicle he saw all over New York, mostly painted the iconic white and blue of the NYPD, though this one was painted a hideous dark brown. He wondered what poor soul was stuck with such an eyesore of a vehicle.

Popping the hood, Castle walked around his car, and retrieved his bags from the trunk. Shivering in the chill, he glanced back over at the Crown Vic and squinted in the dim lighting, letting his mind run away from him, before shaking his head. Chuckling to himself, Castle readjusted his hold on his bags and walked back around to the front of the Bed & Breakfast. Still, he thought as he stepped up onto the front porch, it would be hilarious if he stumbled into some undercover operation going on all the way out here in the sticks.

The interior of the foyer was quite cozy, decorated with little bric-a-brac and potted flowers, and Castle wondered how Gina had heard about this place. Sure, he might be isolated out here and away from "unnecessary distractions" as she put it, but where would he find inspiration? He glanced around, noting the floral wallpaper, and photos, some appearing to be family portraits. There was one showing a young girl smiling widely up at the camera, her parents on either side of her. Ahead of him, he saw a carpeted staircase that led upstairs, and to the right a large doorway opened into a spacious sitting room. The owners had setup a counter by the side of the staircase, and Castle strolled over, dropping his bags on the floor, and tapped the little desk bell.

"Good evening, sir," came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see a dowdy silvery gray-haired woman with glasses, dressed in a warm maroon cardigan enter from the sitting area. "I'm Theresa Hollister, I hope you haven't been waiting too long, I was just putting away some things in the kitchen."

"No, not at all. I just arrived."

"Ah… good," she smiled at him and stepped in behind the counter. "Now then, how can I help you?"

"I have a reservation under Rodgers," Castle said.

Theresa glanced down at an appointment ledger, running a finger down the lists. Castle narrowed his eyes as he watched her. He was a keen observer. There was something about the set of her shoulders and the forced cheerfulness in her greeting that told him something was troubling her. Normally, being the people person he was, he might have engaged in conversation to extract what that was, but having being told—by his teenage daughter, no less—that such behavior was rude, Castle remained silent. It was difficult, as he loved learning what made people tick.

"Ah, yes, here it is," Theresa remarked. "Richard Rodgers… oh, how funny, just like the composer!"

"Yes," Castle chuckled with a little grin. "My mother is a great lover of the theater."

Theresa smiled back, but it didn't touch her eyes. Yes. Something was troubling her. "Now, let's see," she redirected her attention back down to the ledger. "We have you in suite—" She was cut off by the ringing of a cellphone. "Oh, sorry, Mr. Rodgers, I gotta take this." Retrieving her cellphone from a pocket, Theresa moved out from behind the counter, heading for the sitting room. "Oh Kate, honey, could you finish up with this gentleman, it's the hospital calling"

Castle ducked his head, least his eavesdropping was noticed.

"Sure, Aunt Theresa," came a lovely voice, which was soon followed by an even lovelier vision.

Castle blinked, startled by the brunette beauty that appeared from the other room. She was tall, with long legs, and a slender build. He pursed his lips and tried not to stare as the woman walked past him, head down, looking at her own phone. She looked so out of place, even dressed in worn blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt.

"Rodgers, was it?" she asked, staring down at the ledger, skimming through the list of names.

Castle cleared his throat. "Um… yes. Richard Rodgers."

The gorgeous woman smirked. "Your mother didn't do you any favors." And then she glanced up and blinked in surprise. "Richard Castle!" A second later, she realized she'd nearly shouted his name, and her cheeks turned an attractive shade of rosy pink.

He couldn't help but grin. "Do I detect a fan?"

"Um…," it was her turn to clear her throat, but she recovered quickly, setting her jaw and narrowing her eyebrows. Her nose wrinkled most adorably. "I… I just… you're mentioned quite a lot in the gossip papers." She craned her elegant neck to look past him. "Usually with some blonde bimbo on your arm." She glanced back at him with an arched eyebrow. "Checking in alone?"

"Sadly, yes," he feigned a pout. "But I'm always happy to entertain a fan, especially one with such gorgeous eyes."

The brunette beauty scoffed and rolled her eyes, mumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like jackass. She picked up the ledger and spun it around.

"Sign here," she instructed.

"Asking for an autograph?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes again. "Just sign."

Their fingers brushed as he took the pen she offered, and Castle was amazed at the sudden spark that seemed to occur. His pulse quickened and his breath caught. His eyes darted up to hers, and from what he saw reflecting back, she'd felt it too. Neither said a word, just staring at each other, before she cleared her throat and dragged her eyes way.

"Um… just here," she forced out, pointing at a spot on the ledger.

He bent his head down and signed his name on the indicated line. With that done, wanting to avoid any more surprises, Castle decided it best to just put the pen down on the countertop. Shifting his gaze back up, he watched the play of emotions across her gorgeous features. But she schooled her reaction soon. Interesting. She had some training, either acting or otherwise. He watched in awe as a mask of professionalism washed over her face, hiding what was beneath.

"Oh… yes, and I need you to sign these too, and fill out this form with your vehicle information," she said, sliding the papers in front of him, before promptly turning her back on him and stretching up to reach inside a cubby mounted on the wall behind the counter. Castle took the opportunity to admire the way her jeans hugged her ass. Yes. This woman was definitely out of place here. She was drop dead gorgeous. She belonged on the runway, strutting her stuff, rather than helping run a quaint little BnB in upstate New York.

Before she could spot him, and no doubt berate him for ogling her perfect ass, Castle quickly filled out the other forms she had placed in front of him.

"Here," she said, turning around and offering him a key. "Suite 3. Up the stairs and to the left."

"Thank you, Miss Hollister," Castle said, taking the key, and this time prepared for that jolt of electricity that past between them when their fingers brushed during the hand off. It appeared, judging from her reaction this time, that she had been prepared as well, as all he saw was the slightest hint of a blush touch her perfectly sculpted cheeks.

"It's Beckett. Kate Beckett," she corrected. "And… um… enjoy your stay, Mr. Castle." And then, as if filled with nervous energy, she hurried out from around the counter and headed for the sitting room.

Castle couldn't help himself and stared after her, eyes fixed low, admiring the way her hips swayed as she walked. So confident and in command. After she left, leaving the faint scent of cherries in her wake, Castle shook his head. He bent down to retrieve his luggage from the floor and made his way towards the stairs.

It appeared that even out of the city, he could find distractions. Unnecessary? Only time could tell. But, now, this whole idea of him coming out to a Bed & Breakfast to get the creative juices flowing wasn't seeming like such a bad idea after all.

*A/N: My apologies to anyone who lives in upstate New York, I've decided to make up a fictional town for this story.