Trudging through the spongy snow still covering the sidewalk, huddled in the coat that was a little too large for her, Nikki Harris found herself wishing not for the first time that Nova Scotia didn’t have to be so blasted damp in the winter.  At the corner of Outram and Prince, she carefully mounted the salt-encrusted concrete steps leading to the entrance of Novel Companions, the icy conditions making the normally athletic young woman move like one of the elderly to prevent any inadvertent slips.  It was a delicate dance between slush and pavement that most Maritimers perfected at a very young age.
 Above Nikki, the stately building rose four stories high, making it one of the larger structures in Truro, looming over her like a stern, if kindly kindergarten teacher.  A tarnished gold plaque set in the brick at the side of the heavy wooden double doors read 1865, indicating that it had been built during the town’s early existence, and as Nikki entered the warm interior of the bookstore, her wire-frame glasses steamed up from the change in ambient temperature.  Pausing just inside, she took them off to clean them with a tissue from her pocket, glancing around through blurred vision to note that no other customers were present on this quiet Wednesday afternoon, something she was gratified to see even as it caused certain ripples of apprehension in the general vicinity of her stomach.
 Behind the counter, Kate Shannon glanced up from the book she was reading and smiled widely, a welcome that warmed Nikki far more than the décor.
 “Cold enough for you?” the proprietress remarked, making the area’s traditional winter greeting sound like a personal concern for the young woman’s well being.
 Nikki smiled shyly, feeling awkward in the other woman’s presence, and remembering a time when there had been a gentle ease to their friendship.  Had it only been a month ago?
 “It’s not so bad,” she lied.
 Though Kate and Nikki had become friends over the past year, sharing many discussions about their lives and books and current events in the world beyond Truro, Nikki had recently determined that it would be best to start putting distance between her and Mrs. Shannon.  Not because of Kate’s demeanor, which continued to be as warm and welcoming as the store, but because the older woman was becoming progressively more attractive to Nikki the more she got to know her.  A hopeless and unrequited love was the last thing she needed at this stage in her life, and Nikki had decided that staying away would be the wisest choice in the long run.
 Looking away from Kate as she drifted over to the mystery section, Nikki tried not to be too obvious in her withdrawal.  Her attempt at self-discipline didn’t prevent her from feeling what she felt, however, or from peering over the top shelf of the counter to surreptitiously observe the bookstore owner where she perched on a high stool behind the counter.  Standing about five foot six with a trim, compact form, Kate always appeared fashionable and elegant, even in a simple turquoise sweater and jeans.  Reddish brown hair fell neatly about her classic features boasting high cheekbones beneath what Nikki considered to be the most marvelous blue-grey eyes.  The older woman looked particularly appealing at the moment, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses set precariously on her nose as she flipped through a hardcover…  Probably some scholarly tome, Nikki thought wistfully, the understanding for which undoubtedly far beyond that required of the mystery novels that the young woman preferred.
   She supposed that other people wondered why Kate remained unattached after her divorce seven years earlier, just as she did.  It was the young woman’s belief that the classy shopkeeper was just holding out for something and someone a whole lot better than could be discovered in Truro.  She had no idea how or why her own feelings toward the woman had changed so drastically in recent weeks, but it would undoubtedly make Kate vastly uncomfortable if she knew.  Of course, it had occurred to Nikki that she could stop shopping at the bookstore entirely and return her patronage to the chain store at the mall, but the thought of not seeing Kate at all was too painful to contemplate.
 Confused and hurting, Nikki turned her eyes down to the selection on the shelves.  Despite Truro’s small-town status, Mrs. Shannon stocked her store with a remarkably liberal touch.  The alternative lifestyles section easily overshadowed the one belonging to the large chain store, and more than a few gay and lesbian books, which were usually unavailable outside Halifax, the provincial capital, were displayed on the shelves of other sections.   It was good business on Kate’s part, of course.  Nikki was aware that smaller, privately owned stores needed to compete in areas that the larger chains didn’t exploit, and the young woman was far from being the only gay person living in town or within the surrounding area.
 It just felt that way sometimes.
 She looked longingly over the selection of new arrivals, knowing that she would have to limit her indulgences.  Her paycheck from her job at Keebler’s Building Supplies only went so far, and alternative mysteries cost significantly more than the average mainstream titles. Sighing silently, she left the part of the store where the new books were displayed, and strode into the rear where the extensive used section was located.  Unfortunately, books with lesbian protagonists rarely made their way onto these shelves.  Nikki didn’t know why, just that they didn’t seem to recycle as other books did, probably because there were far fewer in circulation.
 As she checked out the mysteries, neatly organized in alphabetical order, Nikki took a moment to appreciate the atmosphere of the store, delighting in the scent of paper and books surrounding her, the gentle fragrance of the incense that Kate favored lingering in the air.  The intricate woodwork visible around the ceiling and walls, as well as the polished plank floor, were original, well over a hundred years old, granting the interior a sense of solidness and timeless grandeur.  This had become Nikki’s favorite place of all over the past year, not only because of her love of reading and her attraction to Kate, but because it was simply such a comfortable place to be, an inviting place to linger and browse.  It was what the chain stores aspired to emulate with their new layouts, which included sofas and coffee bars, but never quite managed to accomplish.
 She felt a disproportionate sense of delight when she discovered a recent book on the shelf by one of the mainstream authors she collected.  Pleased at the find, which was half price, she underwent a brief internal debate justifying the expense before she picked it up, and then took a quick glance through the rest of the shelves before returning to the front part of the store.
 “Found something, did you?” Kate offered, smiling warmly at the young woman as she took the book from the young woman to ring it up, glancing at the cover.  “This is one of her best,” she added. “I read it when it was first released.  She really does a good job with her characters.”
 Nikki felt the heat rise in her cheeks, aware they had to be a glowing pink, and wished that her fair skin would not make it so obvious when she was uncomfortable.  It was an obvious invitation to chat, so similar to the one that had first been extended a little more than a year ago.  At first, the shy young woman had welcomed the chance to be friends with Kate, finding their conversations absorbing and challenging.  Now, however, just the slightest bit of attention from Kate made every nerve in Nikki’s body sing with energy, and it was becoming so intense that she couldn’t even look the shopkeeper directly in the eye anymore.
 “I was planning to buy it new,” she managed, studying the bookmark display on the counter with intensity.  “I’m surprised it showed up in the used section so quickly.”
 “She’s a very popular author, so a lot of her books are in circulation,” Kate explained as she accepted the money from Nikki.  “Did you see the newest Rita Mae Brown novel?”
 Their fingers brushed in the exchange, and Nikki felt the tingle move all the way up her arm.  I need to get out of here, the young woman decided, trying desperately not to react visibly.
 “I did, but I’m not really into her new series,” she said.
 “Is it because she doesn’t include any gay characters?” Kate asked.
 “That’s part of it,” Nikki said.  “She doesn’t have to always write about gay characters of course, but with the only one being a villain in the first book, and no others appearing even in a support role through the rest of the series, it’s like she’s denying us.   It’s too bad, since we were the ones who bought her first books, after all, not the Midwestern housewives she’s apparently trying to appeal to now.”
She stopped, not particularly liking the sharp edge that had appeared in her tone; gay issues were not something she really wanted to discuss, and particularly not with Kate at the moment.  Sometimes it seemed like the older woman tried too hard to steer their conversations onto that subject, as if she was somehow trying to prove that Nikki’s sexual orientation didn’t matter to her.  The trouble was, it mattered to Nikki.  “I have to get going.  I’ve…uh, I have things to do at home.”
 The shopkeeper lifted her eyes, the thoughtful and compassionate gaze mesmerizing Nikki.  “Is something wrong?” Kate asked gently.  “You’ve seemed a little discomfited lately.  Have I offended you in some way?”
 “Not at all,” Nikki said promptly, horrified that Kate would think that, though a tiny part of her was quite pleased that the bookstore owner cared enough to notice.  “I’m fine,” she added lamely.  “I just…I need to go.”
She couldn’t remain in the presence of that intense gaze, humiliated to be unable to deal with these feelings.  She expected better of herself.  “Thanks,” she added in a mumble as she picked up the bag and hastily made her escape, conscious of Kate’s soft eyes following her from the store.
  Out on the sidewalk, the damp chill hit Nikki like a shock, and she stuffed the book into the large pocket at the front of her jacket.  Still stinging from the conversation, feeling unbearably lonely and confused, Nikki bent her head and forged into the stiff breeze that had come up, bringing with it the scent of more snow to come.  A few minutes later, she unlocked the door to her small apartment with a sense of relief.  Deliberately forcing Kate from her mind, she dropped her purchase on the portable washer in the corner before shrugging out of her jacket and hanging it in the closet.  Her wet boots she left on the mat, pulling on her slippers as she moved into the tiny kitchen just off the entrance.
 She heard a soft thud from the bedroom as Powder leapt from the bed where he liked to curl up, and before long, he was winding around her ankles, purring audibly.
 “You realize that if things get really tight, I may have to skin and eat you,” she told the pure white cat sternly as she pulled a can opener from the drawer and opened a tin of cat food.  He appeared suitably unimpressed by this threat and shoved his face into his dish as soon as she placed it on the floor.
 After making herself a tuna sandwich, putting some rice chips into a bowl, and pouring herself a glass of milk, Nikki retrieved her book and moved into the living room where she curled up on the threadbare sofa she had inherited from her parents after her mother had gone on one of her redecorating binges.  She had always meant to replace it with a new one, but that was another expense to be set-aside for better times.
 She relaxed as she opened the book, feeling the same sort of comfort and expectation in starting a new book that she always did.  Dropping from the inside pages, a small card fell onto her lap.  It wasn’t the first time she had found something from the previous owner of a used book, something utilized to mark the page, and forgotten, offering the opportunity to peer through a small window into the life of the person who had read it before her.
 Curious, she opened it and read the script sprawled over the interior: “Dear Kate, just a small token of our weekend at the Keltic Lodge.  It was wonderful, and I can’t wait to see you again.  Soon, we’ll be together for the rest of our lives.  All my love, Sam.”
 Kate was a fairly common name in Truro, and it was unlikely this had anything to do with the owner of the bookstore or with Sam Madison, the odious little man who owned the insurance office down the street from Novel Companions, but Nikki still felt a little dagger pierce her heart.  It was ridiculous, of course, but that didn’t lessen how it felt, or the thread of loneliness that rippled through her.
 Suddenly depressed, she dropped the card into the nearby wastebasket.  The book, no longer something she wanted to read, she placed on the end table, and desolately she took a small bite from her sandwich, although she wasn’t really very hungry any more.
 Powder leaped up beside her and rubbed his cheek along her arm, almost as if he knew she was upset and wanted to comfort her, though she suspected it was more likely in hopes of being offered a morsel from her supper.
 “At least you love me,” she muttered as she obligingly fed him a small piece of cheese.  “Even if I am just a food source for you.”  He meowed appreciatively and bumped her hand gently with his head.
 Reaching for the remote, she began yet another solitary evening of television and an early bedtime, wondering when she would ever figure out how to start living her life, rather than merely existing within it.

 Turning the lock on the door to her shop, Kate paused a moment to peer out the window before lowering the shade.  She had remained open a little late, losing track of time as she read her book behind the counter, and hadn’t looked up until it was about twenty-five after five.  Outside, darkness had descended, and snow was falling heavily, swirling in the wind that rattled the large pane glass of her display windows.  It had been a hard winter, with several storms hitting the area since the middle of November in distinct contrast to the past five or six years, which had been predominantly mild and rainy, much like those found in England.  This was a harsh reminder to the inhabitants that they were in Canada, and it still proudly claimed the title of the Great White North.  The buildup of snow, along with the effort and aggravation required for its removal, had fueled a steady stream of conversation in the nearby diner, though if there was anything more futile than complaining about the weather, Kate had yet to encounter it.
 Feeling vaguely depressed, she glanced up and down the empty street where the rest of the businesses had already closed, their interior lights dimmed, their display windows already dusted by the storm.  Truro tended to roll up its sidewalks early through the week and Saturdays.  It was only on Thursday and Friday nights that the downtown stayed open later.
 Kate lifted her head, watching as the snowflakes danced in the yellow streetlights, feeling a little of her dark mood lift.  It was pretty, particularly if one didn’t have to go anywhere, or navigate a vehicle on the streets rapidly being covered with a thick layer of slush.  A car drove past, slowed and stopped in front of Madison Insurance, a block down the street from Novel Companions.  Kate watched as a figure got out of the car and entered the building.  The bulky winter clothing and obscuring snow made identification impossible, but the bookstore owner was left with the distinct impression that it had been female.
 Undoubtedly Sam’s latest flame, Kate thought with sardonic amusement.  The man saw more action than the lottery machines at the taverns, but for whatever reason, his wife either didn’t seem to mind or didn’t know about it.  Such obliviousness was a trait that Kate never would have ascribed to Margaret, but ultimately it was none of the bookstore owner’s business, and she lowered the blind before checking the locks a final time.
 Moving back through the store, she transferred the money from the register to the safe, then took a moment to straighten the cardboard display for a new release.  For some reason, she felt a reluctance to leave the store, to go upstairs to her apartment, though she was unsure why she felt that way.  A small part of her wondered if her unusual lethargy wasn’t due to the earlier encounter with Nikki Harris.
 Idly, Kate’s fingers traced over the raised embossing on the bestseller, trailing over the blonde head of a generic female character, though the fantasy figure lacked the exact shade of Nikki’s hair, or the amazing depth of her eyes.   She wondered why Nikki had been so distant lately.  Over the past few weeks Kate had wanted to reach out to her beyond their spirited discussions about books and current affairs, ask her out for coffee after work, or perhaps even to dinner. How many times had she gathered up her courage between each visit by the young woman, only to promptly lose it when she actually looked into that brilliant blue gaze?  Had that secret desire somehow showed in her words or actions?  Had such attraction scared or disturbed the young woman?  Nikki’s visits had steadily decreased the past month until she was only coming by once a week, and then the young woman only stayed a few minutes, resisting any invitation to talk.
 It was an entirely new experience for Kate to want someone this strongly.  Even during her marriage, her emotions had been based on accepting what was expected of her rather than anything she truly desired.  She had known at the time that she wasn’t really physically attracted to her husband, but the marriage had seemed the correct thing to do, not only for herself and David, but for her family and friends as well.  Once she had extricated herself from the union, however, she had enough self-respect in vowing not to make the same mistake twice.  Celibacy held its own form of peace, and it wasn’t as if Kate found women all that attractive, either, so it hadn’t been necessary for her to seriously consider that she could possibly be gay.  She merely contented herself with the theory that she was one of those people who were asexual by nature, lacking any sort of physical desire.  She had wanted to believe that she did not require anyone to share her life with, even during her more lonely moments over the years.
 Then Nikki Harris had walked into her store.
 It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning, and Kate cherished the memory of that first meeting as she would a beloved family heirloom.  Her heart had pounded so oddly as she waited on the comely young woman who placed the lesbian mystery novel almost defiantly on the counter; probably the first customer who had openly dared to buy one after the store first started carrying them.
 She inhaled slowly, hearing the wind batter the windows with small pellets of snow.  She wondered occasionally if Nikki ever felt the same...if she could ever feel the same, particularly for a much older woman.  Kate wasn’t sure she had the right to even think about it, considering Nikki’s youth, and how little they had in common beyond a mutual love of books.
 Shaking her head in an effort to clear her thoughts, Kate moved to the rear of the store where a stairwell granted access to the upper floors.  On the second floor landing, she entered her apartment and crossed the dining room to the kitchen where she immediately switched on the coffee machine, the ingredients already prepared.  Through the window over the sink, which was angled toward the east part of Prince Street, she could see a light shining down the street from the second floor of the insurance office where Sam Madison maintained an apartment.  It had to be for his own use, because as far as Kate knew, no one had ever rented it.  Remembering the late arrival, she lifted a sardonic eyebrow and shook her head in amusement at herself.  How could she condemn others for being unduly inquisitive when she managed to keep tabs on nearly everything that happened in the downtown area without even trying?
 She made herself a small salad, losing herself in the rhythm of slicing vegetables and mushrooms, then filled a mug with coffee and took her meal out to the dining table that was really too large for the room, but remained a possession that she had not wanted to give up after the unexpected and devastating deaths of her parents.  She consumed her solitary supper to the soft sounds of the radio tuned to the classical station, keenly conscious of how alone she felt.  The treble of the phone after she dumped her dishes in the sink came as a welcome relief, and she picked it up, pleased to discover that it was Susan Carlson.  She and her oldest friend in the world weren’t as constantly close as they had been before Susan moved to Halifax when her husband had been transferred, but they did keep in contact regularly.
 “So what are you doing next Saturday night?” Susan asked after they had made it through the initial greetings, the breezy tone in her voice apparent over the phone line.
 “Why?” Kate responded.
 “I want you to come down to the city,” Susan invited.  “You can spend the evening, we’ll go out for dinner...”
 Immediately wary, Kate hesitated.  After her divorce, she had managed to divert the majority of honest, if misplaced, attempts by her friends to hook her up with someone new, first by insisting that it was too soon, then later, with a host of other excuses, until finally most had simply given up with the conviction that she was hopeless.  Only Susan persisted in coming up with possible suitors on a regular basis.
 “Just you, me, and Ted?” she asked suspiciously.
 “Well, Ted’s invited along a friend from work...” Susan began.
 Kate closed her eyes and shook her head.  “I’ll probably be busy,” she said, cutting her off.
 There was a wounded silence on the other end of the line.  “Katie, don’t be like that,” Susan scolded finally.  “You can’t live your life alone.”
 “I’m doing fine so far,” Kate reminded her.
 “What about love, Katie?” Susan asked plaintively.
 “If I require love that badly, I can buy a dog,” Kate replied reasonably.
 “Then the hell with love.  What about sex?” Susan pressed.
 Despite herself, Kate chuckled.  “Believe it or not, I don’t miss that either.”
 A somewhat exasperated sigh sounded in her ear.  “I swear, Katie, I’m about ready to give up on you.”
 “I do live in constant hope of that occurring,” Kate said dryly.
 “So you’re not coming down?”
 Stringing out the long cord, Kate carried the phone over to her plush sofa and settled onto it.  “Seriously, Susan, while I’d love to see you, Ted, and the girls, I really have no interest in any kind of setup,” she said.  “I’m content with my life as it is.”  A lie, of course, but not one she was about to elaborate on with an admission that the only relationship she might be interested in had to do with a young woman.
 A part of her wondered how shocked Susan would be if she did, and she swallowed convulsively, forcing the thought back.  Susan was pretty liberal and easy going, but Kate had no idea what her views on homosexuality were, and no real interest in finding out tonight.
 “Maybe I should come up and visit you,” Susan suggested.  “Heaven knows, I could use a bit of a break from hubby and the kids.  It’s been awhile since we’ve had some quality time together.”
 “Are you serious?” Kate said enthusiastically.  “That would be wonderful.”
 “Let me see what’s going on for the next few weekends, and I’ll get back to you,” Susan promised.  There was a warm pause.  “I’ve missed you, Katie.”
 “I’ve missed you, too,” Kate admitted.
 They exchanged a few more pleasantries, Susan once more urging her friend to get out and experience life more before finally saying farewell.  Kate hung up and returned the phone to the kitchen counter, determined not to think about things such as relationships or the possibilities inherent in them, despite her friend’s encouragement.  Instead, she took a seat at the desk in the living room and dug into the stack of paperwork that had been languishing there since the end of the year.  She wanted to have the taxes for the business done and out of the way early instead of waiting until the last minute as she had in all the previous years.  It was her New Year’s resolution, and a few hours later she felt a real sense of accomplishment and triumph as she finished.
 Then she realized how truly empty her life had become when that sort of thing was considered cause for this degree of celebration.
 Sighing, she headed into the bedroom where she prepared for bed, finally slipping between the sheets.  Picking up the book from the nightstand, she read Richard Preston’s latest for another hour before weariness made her pillow more attractive than the adventures of the main character, who was apparently incapable of figuring out what Kate had not long after the first chapter.  Turning out the light, she settled back against the pillows, and wondered when she would ever have the chance to experience some of the things that she had only read about, such as desire and passion and possibly even the type of love that could provide her with the happiness she had yet to experience, but still believed in.
 She wasn’t sure what woke her up hours later.  It had been something unusual, she knew, blinking in the dim illumination of refracted streetlights through the window blind.  Disconcerted, it took a few seconds before she realized exactly where she was, her eyes picking out the familiar shapes and shadows of her bedroom.  A glance at the clock radio on the nightstand showed that it was early morning, the glowing green LED digits reading 1:13.
 Had someone broken in? she thought dazedly, listening intently.  Moments passed as she lie there, trying to determine what had interrupted her slumber.  Finally, she decided that it had been nothing more than a sound that, while unfamiliar enough to disturb her, hadn’t really meant anything.  Perhaps it had merely been the storm, her subconscious reacting to a particularly sharp gust of wind from the nor’easter rattling her windowpane.
 She eased back onto the mattress, relaxing into the cozy comfort of her bedding, trying to go back to sleep.  From the street, she heard the soft sounds of a muffled car engine starting, idling for a moment before driving off, eventually fading away to leave nothing but the soft patter of snowflakes against her window, and the wind whistling about the eaves.  Soothed by the quiet, she started to drift off, only peripherally aware when another faint sound insinuated itself into her consciousness, something crackling beneath the thin howl of the storm.  It was nothing she immediately recognized, and floating in that sea of twilight between wakefulness and sleep, it danced along her senses until her mind finally pinpointed what it could be.
 Shocked, her eyes flew open, and she stared at the reddish glow scattering odd shadows along her bedroom wall.  The next moment, she was flipping back the covers and rolling out of bed, scrambling over to the window.  The glow was brighter here, and over the roof of the building across the street, she could see smoke rising thick and dark in the driving snowstorm.
 Pulling on her robe hastily, she left the bedroom and moved out to the kitchen.  The flickering illumination was more intense and apparent here, and lifting the blinds on the window over the sink, she peered through the swirling snow toward the buildings down the block.
 The smoke was billowing from the windows above the insurance office, accompanied by flames licking up the front, whipped by the wind.  Her mouth went dry as she realized the apartment on the upper floor was already engulfed, and she lunged for her phone.  Fingers shaking, she quickly punched in 911, breathless as she stared at the inferno, and informed the dispatcher of the emergency.  Trying to keep her voice calm, she couldn’t help but notice the snow filling in the ruts on the street, leaving only minor depressions at this point.  There had been a car, she decided, undoubtedly the one she noticed parking there earlier in the evening.  The tracks began right in front of the insurance office and proceeded east, down the street where the trail disappeared beneath a blanket of white.
 Had the driver been aware that the building had been on fire before he or she left?  If so, why hadn’t they called for help?

 The high wail of sirens woke Nikki.  Jolted from her sleep, she sat up abruptly in confusion, looking around with blurred vision.  She fumbled for her glasses on the nightstand, and jammed them on, frowning as she saw Powder up on the bedroom windowsill, the tip of his tail flicking spastically as the cat stared intently through the frosted glass.
 She could discern more sirens as she jumped out of bed. Truro had its share of sirens in the night, but never this many.  Heart in her throat, Nikki stumbled across to join Powder at the window, peering through the white fog created by the blizzard outside.  She finally saw the reflection of lights in the distance and the darker shadow of smoke over the rooftops.  It didn’t take her long to realize that it was only a few blocks away in the general vicinity of Prince Street.
 Possibly even at the intersection of Outram where Kate’s bookstore was located.
 Horrified, she scrambled for her clothes, not really understanding the reasoning behind her actions, only knowing that if something had happened to the store…had happened to Kate’s business…she needed to be there.
 She flew down the stairs of her apartment building, and was immediately brought up short by the respectable drift filling the sidewalk.  Floundering in the snow, common sense managed to reassert itself enough to send her back inside where she dressed properly for the weather, adding some waterproof pants over her sweats, a pair of heavy boots, and her oversized jacket.  A wooly hat and mittens completed her preparations, and she once more forged a trail into the storm.
 She wasn’t the only one drawn outside by the commotion, she noticed as she plowed determinedly through the storm.  Other people in the neighborhood, mostly curious, all of them excited at the unexpected drama, were also headed in the direction of the flames and smoke to see what was going on.  She was still a block away when she realized it wasn’t Novel Companions going up in flames, but one of the buildings farther down on the opposite side of the street.
 From the amount of trucks, she realized that a number of other departments had been called in from the surrounding areas, indicating the seriousness of the fire.  Still concerned about the bookstore, she cut across the side streets to approach the scene from Outram.  The fire department also had this street blocked, but only where it opened onto Prince, so she was able to find a spot alongside the building housing the bookstore.  Other people had also chosen this as the best place to view the proceedings, and a crowd milled behind the barricades as if it were some sort of parade or celebration put on for their entertainment.
 Nikki looked up worriedly, trying to determine if there was any danger of the flames spreading up the block.  Fortunately, the wind was howling in the other direction, but because of it, the firefighters had their hands full trying to prevent the fire from jumping to the Dairy Queen, which was separated from the fire by only a small parking lot.  They did possess a tiny bit of luck in that there weren’t any apartments in the buildings directly nearby, but many of the area residents had left their homes just the same, perhaps in fear of it spreading toward them.  They stood huddled in coats and jackets pulled hastily over pajamas, some holding young children, the eerie splash of emergency lights washing over their drawn faces.  It was difficult to hear above the roaring of the flames, the shouts of the firefighters, and the confused conversation of the onlookers as the firefighters worked frantically to bring things under control.  The storm was freezing the water as it rose into the air from the hoses, and ice was forming everywhere, in addition to the blizzard dumping more snow with every passing minute.  Nikki would have thought the precipitation would help dampen the flames, but the high winds apparently offset any potential benefit.
 “Nikki.”
 The call originated from above her, faint, almost carried away by the wind.  Startled, she looked up, astounded when she saw Kate Shannon’s head poking through the second story window directly above her.
 “Go to the door at the back,” Kate instructed, gesturing toward the rear of the building.
 Nikki frowned, then glanced around at the crowd, none of whom seemed to have noticed the young woman being summoned.  Shrugging, she obediently moved back to the sidewalk and along the side of the building.  At the rear, she was surprised to discover a door.  Attached to the brick beside the frame, a mailbox held the street number and the name K. Shannon inscribed across a small brass plaque just below the doorbell.  In the lane behind the building, there was a nondescript large vehicle, covered with snow, parked next to a large dumpster.
 Belatedly, Nikki realized this meant that Kate didn’t just run her business from this building, she also lived in the upstairs, and the young woman wondered why she hadn’t known that.  Tentatively, she reached out to push the bell.  The door opened before she could touch it, however, to reveal a somewhat mussed bookstore owner motioning Nikki inside.  The older woman was dressed as informally as Nikki had ever seen her, in an oversized white t-shirt and loose drawstring pants with bright blue fuzzy slippers adorning her feet.
 Nikki found the ensemble unbearably adorable.
 “Come on in,” Kate told her.  “It’s a lot warmer upstairs.”
 Dazedly, Nikki followed her up the stairs, which led to a second floor landing where Kate opened the door to her apartment.  Nikki paused inside, astounded by the lavish rooms she had been unaware existed right over her head all the times she had visited the bookstore.
 “I didn’t know you lived here,” she said, somewhat inanely, as she shrugged out of her jacket, and removed her hat and scarf.  “I thought there was only storage or empty offices up here.”
 “I renovated when I bought the building,” Kate told her with a smile as she took the garments from Nikki before the young woman had a chance to wonder what she was going to do with them.  Hanging them in the closet, the shopkeeper moved Nikki’s boots over to the mat where the melting snow could drain.  “After Mom and Dad died, I sold their house and redid this floor above the store.  It didn’t make sense for me to maintain a separate residence when I could work and live in the same building.”
 “That makes sense,” Nikki said.  Feeling nervous and extremely conscious of being in unfamiliar territory, she recognized that the décor in the apartment was far more tasteful and cultured than she was used to, looking more like something from a magazine layout than a place where someone she knew actually lived.  At the same time she was elated, somehow aware of being invited into an inner sanctum that not many had the privilege of discovering.
 “May I get you something?” Kate asked as she moved toward the kitchen, past the dining table.  “I think it’s going to be a long night.”
 “Uh, thank you,” Nikki said, belatedly following the other woman.
 “Coffee?”
 Nikki blinked.  “No, I don’t drink it,” she said.
 Kate looked at her as if she had just said she didn’t breathe on a regular basis.
 “Oh.”  There was a pause.  “Tea?”
 “Um, water would be fine.”  It wasn’t the first time Nikki had run into this sort of awkward situation.  Not drinking tea or coffee seemed to be something of an oddity to most people over the age of twenty, particularly in this town, which boasted eight chain restaurants specializing in coffee and donuts, in addition to the privately owned shops.  However, the young woman had simply never developed a taste for it, finding the liquid bitter and unpleasant, and couldn’t comprehend how other people had.
 Kate raised an eyebrow.  “How about some hot chocolate?” she suggested in a gentler tone.  “You must be cold.”
 Nikki seized on this with relief.  “That would be fine,” she agreed.   She glanced around the kitchen, which appeared sunny and bright even in the dead of night.  It had to be some trick of the wallpaper, she decided.  “I’m surprised you still have electricity.”
 Kate paused in mid-motion while pulling some mugs from the cupboard.
 “You’re right,” she said, eyeing Nikki with respect.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  Maybe I should find some candles, just in case.”
 “This side of the street is probably on a different line than the other,” Nikki said, aware she was just filling the moment with something…anything…to say, because the thought of suddenly being in the dark with Kate made it difficult to swallow.  “Otherwise, I think you would have already lost it by now.  Uh, I wondered who noticed the fire?”
 “I called the fire department,” Kate said, busying herself with preparing Nikki’s hot chocolate, filling the mug with water and placing it in the microwave before retrieving a tin from another cupboard.  “I’m not sure if I was the first, however.  They certainly arrived here quickly enough, and it didn’t take long before they were calling in others.  I think both the county and Bible Hill departments are here.”
 “The sirens woke me up,” Nikki admitted, suddenly feeling self-conscious about rushing down to the scene of a disaster in the making.  “When I saw the smoke from my window, I was afraid it was the bookstore.  It’s not like I go out of my way to gawk at accidents or anything.”
 Kate flashed her a brief smile.   “I’m flattered you were worried about me,” she said.
 Nikki blinked and decided not to pursue that one.  “Did you see it start?” she asked instead.
 Kate’s features darkened, and Nikki wondered why.
 “The top floor was fully ablaze when I called it in,” Kate said.  “Something woke me...maybe the sound of the flames.”
 The sudden ding from the microwave interrupted anything else she might have said. Kate removed the mug and placed it on the counter before handing Nikki the tin of hot chocolate along with a spoon.
 “Help yourself,” she invited.  “I’m not sure how thick you want it.”
 Nikki obligingly scooped the dark powder into the mug, aware of Kate pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the coffee maker.   Shyly, she stood next to the other woman at the large window over the sink, wondering why she, out of all the people on the street below, had been invited in.  Lifting her mug carefully, she sipped it, not wanting to spill her drink either on herself, or on the tile floor, which was cool beneath her sock feet.  Sneaking a peek at Kate’s profile as she observed the action outside, Nikki hesitantly cleared her throat.
 “You said something woke you?” she prompted.
 Kate drew down her brows, lifting her chin, though she didn’t turn her head.  “Yes,” she said.  “It was...a noise...similar to a backfire from a car.” She shook her head.  “It was probably just the glass breaking as the fire broke the windows.”
 “Perhaps it was an explosion of some sort,” Nikki suggested idly.  “Or it could have been a gunshot.”
 Now Kate did look at her, and Nikki was astonished to see that the other woman’s eyes altered color to reflect her mood, shading from a light blue to dark grey.  She wondered why she had never noticed that before.
 “Why would you say that?” Kate asked, astonishment edging her tone.
 Nikki shrugged, embarrassed to have mentioned it.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Too many mysteries, probably.”  The woman continued to stare at her, and Nikki felt very uncomfortable, sorry that she had ever opened her mouth.
 “You do like to read a lot,” Kate allowed after a few seconds, which had seemed like hours to the younger woman.  “I know you like the outdoors.  What else do you like to do, Nikki?  In your spare time, I mean.”
 Nikki blinked.  “Uh, not much,” she said, wondering why Kate was asking, and why now.  “I like sports, I guess.  I’m into computers quite a bit, and I like going to movies.  I’m really into camping and hiking.  I play tennis in the summer.”  She paused.  “Why?”
 Kate looked away, color touching her high cheekbones.  “I was just curious,” she said softly.  “I don’t feel I know you very well, even after all the times we’ve spoken in the bookstore.”
 “Why would you want to?” Nikki blurted, amazed at the disclosure.
 “Why wouldn’t I?” Kate countered, though it seemed like there was a touch of defensiveness in her tone.  “I find you an extremely interesting and intelligent person, Nikki.”
 The young woman couldn’t think of an immediate response to that.
 “When did you call the fire department?” she asked finally, thinking that was a much safer topic for some reason.
 “I woke up around quarter after one,” Kate replied.
 Nikki considered that.  “The taverns let out at one,” she said thoughtfully.  “If there was anything going on earlier than that, you’d think someone would have noticed.  How late is the Dairy Queen open?”
 “It closes at ten,” Kate said.  “Besides, I only saw tracks from the car parked in front of the insurance office.  The storm seems to have kept everyone else at home.”
 “What car?”
 Kate took a breath and explained about the unidentified person she saw going into the office earlier, as well as the fact that she heard a car drive away shortly after she woke.
 “That’s weird,” Nikki said.
 “Probably a coincidence,” Kate responded dismissively.
 “Yeah?” Nikki said, a touch of challenge in her tone.  “A car drives away, then only a few minutes later, the building it was parked in front of suddenly bursts into flames? I don’t know much about how fires work, but I don’t think they take off that quickly unless they were ‘helped’ a little bit.”
 Kate regarded her, obviously disturbed at the thought, and Nikki felt embarrassed again.
 “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I’m just thinking out loud.  I’m probably way off base.”
 “Maybe,” Kate allowed, though her gaze was troubled.  “At the same time, however, something odd did wake me up.”
 She was about to say more when her doorbell rang.  Kate looked vaguely annoyed at the interruption, but dipped her head at Nikki.
 “I’ll be right back,” she promised.
She disappeared out the door, leaving it ajar, and curiously, Nikki drifted over to it, eavesdropping as she wondered who else would be knocking on Kate’s back door at this time of night, particularly when all the entertainment was out front.

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