Angels Fall Read Free Page A

later."
    "Cash is good." She took the bill, noted with relief it was less than she'd expected. She could hear someone chatting in the rear of the store, and the beep of another cash register. "I got a job."
    He cocked his head as she pulled out her wallet. "That so? Quick work."
    "At the diner. I don't even know the name of it," she realized.
    "That'd be Angel Food. Locals just call it Joanie's."
    "Joanie's then. I hope you come in sometime. I'm a good cook."
    "I bet you are. Here's your change."
    "Thanks. Thanks for everything. I guess I'll go get myself a room, then go back to work."
    "It you're still looking at the hotel, you tell Brenda on the desk you want the monthly rate. You tell her you're working at Joanie's."
    "I will. I'll tell her." She wanted to take out an ad announcing it in the local paper. "Thanks, Mr. Drubber."
    The hotel was five stories of pale yellow stucco that boasted views of the lake. It harbored a minute sundry shop, a tiny coffee and muffin stand and an intimate linen tablecloth dining room.
    There was, she was told, high-speed Internet connection for a small daily fee, room service from seven AM. to eleven P.M. and a self-service laundry in the basement.
    Reece negotiated a weekly rate on a single—a week was long enough—on the third floor. Anything below the third was too accessible for her peace of mind, and anything above the third made her feel trapped.
    With her wallet now effectively empty, she carted her duffel and laptop up three flights rather than use the elevator.
    The view lived up to its billing, and she immediately opened the windows, then just stood looking at the sparkle of the water, the glide of boats, and the rise of the mountains that cupped this little section of valley.
    This was her place today, she thought. She'd find out it it was her place tomorrow. Turning back to the room, she noted the door that adjoined the neighboring guest room. She checked the locks, then pushed, shoved, dragged the single dresser in front of it.
    That was better.
    She wouldn't unpack, not exactly, but take the essentials and set them out. The travel candle, some toiletries, the cell phone charger. Since the bathroom was hardly bigger than the closet, she left the door open while she took a quick shower. While the water ran, she did the multiplication tables out loud to keep herself steady. She changed into fresh clothes, moving quickly.
    New job, she reminded herself and took the time and effort to dry her hair, to put on a little makeup. Not so pale today, she decided, not so hollow-eyed.
    After checking her watch, she set up her laptop, opened her daily journal and wrote a quick entry.
     
    Angel's Fist,Wyoming
    April
    I cooked today. I took a job as a cook in a little diner-style restaurant in this pretty valley town with its big, blue lake. I'm popping champagne in my mind, and there are streamers and balloons.
    I feel like I've climbed a mountain, like I've been scaling the tough
    peak's that ring this place. I'm not at the top yet; I'm still on a ledge. But it's sturdy and wide, and I can rest here a little while before I start to climb again.
    I'm working for a woman named Joanie. She's short, sturdy and oddly pretty. She's tough, too, and that's good. I don't want to be coddled. I think I'd smother to death that way, just run out of air the way I feel when I wake up from one of the dreams. I can breathe here, and I can be here until it's time to move on.
    I've got less than ten dollars left, but whose fault is that? It's okay. I've got a room for a week with a view of the lake and the Tetons, a job and a new radiator hose.
    I missed lunch, and that's a step back there. That's okay, too. I was too busy cooking to eat, and I'll make up for it.
    It's a good day, April fifteenth. I'm going to work.
     
    She shut down, then tucked her phone, her keys, driver's license and three dollars of what she had left in her pockets. Grabbing a jacket, she headed for the door.
    Before she opened it,