Page 19 of Wind Valley

“What lawyers are you talking about?”

“I’m not talking about it. This is me, not talking.” She pretended to zip her lips. “And please stop asking, because I’m not the kind of person who doesn’t talk about things.”

That part was certainly true. Martha was a talker on any and all subjects. She was one of the most sociable people in a town filled with plenty of hermits and eccentrics.

As she picked up her soup to take it to her table, he said, “Maybe you should talk to Molly about it, whatever it is. The best weapon against a lawyer is another lawyer.”

“Not a bad point.” She gave him a weary smile. “It’s funny how some of us came here to get away from the world, but the world didn’t get the message. It won’t leave us alone.”

“That was strange,” he told Maura in a low voice once he got back to her end of the bar. Her glass was full again; she must have topped it off from the bottle he’d left nearby. Sometimes he wondered why Bear didn’t make the place fully self-serve.

“Hm?” She planted her elbows on the bar and rested her chin on her clasped hands and blinked at him. Definitely buzzed. He thought about what Martha had said about the world not getting the message. Maura too was running from the outside world, that much was clear. But why?

“Martha’s talking about lawyers and how she can’t say anything more than that. Have you ever known Martha to hold her tongue?”

“Hold her tongue.” Maura giggled. “Hold her tongue. Sounds so silly. Who came up with that phrase? How do you hold it, with your fingers?”

“Okay, that’s it. Enough wine for you.” He moved her glass away from her.

“Noo, you’re being mean. Mean Lachlan.” She caught his expression and quickly said, “No, nice, kind Lachlan. Lovely Lachlan.”

He didn’t think that was much better than “mean.” Nice? Lovely?

She leaned across the bar, beckoning him close, until their faces were barely an inch apart. “Can I tell you something? You might be the only man in the entire world, except for my dad, that I trust even a little bit.”

Oh yes, he thought. Maura was definitely running from something. Maybe she’d even tell him what someday. But he didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that she was blitzed from one and a half glasses of wine. “Do you really trust me?”

“I said a little bit.” She wagged her finger at him.

“Then you’ll drink the gigantic glass of water I’m about to bring you. You’ll wait about half an hour. Maybe drink some coffee, although most studies say it doesn’t have a big effect on your physiological response to alcohol. Then you’ll either go home, if you feel ready to drive, or you can come sleep on my couch.”

Her deep blue eyes darkened. “Is that a proposition?”

“No. Yes. It’s a safety proposition. That’s all.”

“No sex?”

Lightning flashed through his body. Goddamn, that was just…unfair. He could do without the images that one word sent flying through his mind. “Of course not.”

He reached for the nearest pitcher of water and poured her a large glass, while he fought to compose himself.

She drank it down, watching him the whole time. “There. Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you. How about some soup? Did you have any dinner before you drank,” he checked the bottle, “a third of that red wine?”

“No. I just came to tell you about the wolf. There’s a Cherokee story about wolves that I teach to my middle schoolers. We each have two wolves fighting inside us. One is all the negative emotions like anger and greed. The other is positive stuff like love and kindness. The one who wins is…” She ran a hand across her face. “Ugh, I can’t remember how it goes.”

“Is it the one who attacks people on snowmobiles in the wilderness?”

Out of all the Mauras, he really, really enjoyed the one who laughed at his jokes.

11

One more great thing about Lachlan—he wasn’t one to say “I told you so.” Her head still achy, Maura was beyond grateful for that quality as they drove out to the Chilkoots’ property. When he’d picked her up at Pinky’s, he’d offered only a casual, “How’re you feeling?” before she climbed in beside him.

“Yeah. Good. Thanks.”

Pinky lived in the opposite direction from the Chilkoots; they were closer to Ice Falls, while he lived near Wind Valley, and closer to town. When she’d first come to Firelight Ridge, she’d thought his place was remote, but it turned out that a fair number of people considered him to be a town-dweller. Old Solomon even teased him about it. How do you city-folk stand all that damn traffic? Might as well live in downtown Seattle.

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