Page 58 of Wind Valley

“The answer is no, to both. I just wanted some time and space. I was hoping he’d move on, and eventually it would be safe to go home.” She gazed out at the black spruce, spindly and stark against the snowy landscape. The trees were different here than in Firelight Ridge—thinner, tougher, more ancient. “But I don’t know how long that will take. And sometimes…”

“Yeah? Sometimes?”

“Sometimes I’m not sure I want to go back. I’ve always wanted to see what the world outside of Hopper, Colorado was like. But with my mom’s health issues—she has Parkinson’s—and helping my dad with the business, and getting my teaching degree, I never had the chance. I used to listen to my Granny Jeanine’s stories about Alaska and all the adventurous things she’s done, and just dream. Now I’m here, and Hopper feels very far away. The only reason to go back is my parents.”

“Do you miss them?” he asked.

She thought about it. “I do, but as long as they’re safe and my mom’s doing okay, it’s fine. They told me I should leave town. My mom knows I have itchy feet and always wanted to travel. When all the shit went down with SS, she said it was the perfect opportunity for me to leave. Now that I’m away from Colorado, things look very different. The idea of going back…” She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Basically, I don’t know if Hopper is the place for me anymore. I don’t know what is. So, as to long-term plans, honestly, I can’t answer that.”

Although he listened closely, she couldn’t read his expression. Had he hoped for some other answer, maybe one that took their relationship into account? But they didn’t have a “relationship,” per se. They had…what did they have, exactly? Something unique. Something real. Something without a label.

Lachlan abruptly changed the subject. “You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?”

“Um…no, it’s not something I packed when I decided to flee to Alaska in the middle of winter. Also, everything I own is back at the hotel. Owned,” she corrected. “Are you really thinking of going to the hot springs?”

“I know it sounds crazy. But they’re very meditative. And it’s probably the last place he’d expect us to go.”

She laughed. “Good point. ‘Hey babe, there’s a stalker chasing us, let’s go have a soak!’”

“Exactly. Also…” He hesitated, which piqued her curiosity.

“What?”

“This will sound unscientific, but every time I’ve gone to the hot springs, I’ve had a breakthrough of some kind. That’s where I decided on the topic for my dissertation. That’s where I solved the conundrum of micro-temperature changes in jökulhlaup occurrences. That’s where I finally admitted the truth about the woman I was seeing for a time, the one Gil warned me about.”

Intriguing. “What was wrong with her?”

“She was actually a spy from Belarus, if you can believe it. I was working on a project her government was interested in. Her mission was to convince me to bring my research to them. I fell for her hard, and I probably would have done it if Gil hadn’t opened my eyes. He saw through her right away. He used to work in diplomatic security, so he saw red flags I missed.”

He told the story in a flat tone of voice that told her he was still embarrassed by the episode. She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly. “The honeypot trick. It’s a classic for a reason. You have nothing to be ashamed of. What happened next?”

“I broke it off, and didn’t date anyone for the next three years. Oh, but before that I played spy myself, and got some info about other Belarusian spies operating in the US.” He grinned over at her. “It’s amazing how a nerdy scientist raises so little suspicion. Quite a cover. Gil helped me,” he admitted.

She playfully slapped him on the arm. “Why are you always so modest? You starred in an international spy thriller and act like it’s no big deal?”

“I’m a man of many layers,” he intoned in a deep voice.

“You actually are, so stop joking around. How did you do that? Find the other spies, I mean?”

“It’s a matter of national security that I can’t discuss.”

She stared at him in amazement. “Are you serious?”

“Actually, yes. I probably shouldn’t be telling you any part of this story. Wait, are you a honeypot trying to get the details out of me?”

She put her clasped hands together, like a nun, and blinked at him innocently. “Who me? How in the world did you figure it out? It must be because no one in their right mind would come to Firelight Ridge except to spy on the local jökulhlaup-expert bartender.”

“Oh my God.” He swung his head around to pin her with his green-eyed gaze. “You know how to say jökulhlaup correctly. I don’t care if you are a honeypot, will you marry me?”

They both laughed and one more layer of her wariness evaporated. Yes, she was on the run again from that demented man, but this time she had someone in her corner. That made all the difference in the world.

31

It was getting dark when they reached Chena Hot Springs, which was far from the burbling creek in the rocks that Maura had imagined. Several roads wound through a complex of buildings. Lachlan pointed out a museum made entirely of ice, as well as some cozy cabins made of normal materials such as wood.

“We can spend the night here,” Lachlan suggested as he drove toward a low red-roofed building toward the back of the complex. “No one followed us.”

“You were watching?”

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