Chapter 3
3
As he drove, Lachlan watched a bald eagle float high above them, riding an invisible updraft along the bluff near his place. His house sat on the edge of a ravine that filled up with lush pushki in the summer, and piles of snow in the winter.
He’d bought it for the glass French doors that opened onto a back deck with a view of Fire Peak. That was before he’d learned that the only time it was warm enough to sit out there was in the summer, which also happened to be the time you’d get swarmed with black flies and mosquitoes the second you stepped out the door.
But that bald eagle…there was something strange about how it was flying. It seemed both sluggish and erratic. Drunk? Flying under the influence? Maybe it had just come from the eagle version of The Fang?
He brought himself back to attention as they pulled up outside his house. He and Gil had shoveled out two spaces and a turnaround—an ongoing project that took a couple of hours every time another snowstorm hit. Gil’s black Subaru took up one of the spaces, which meant that most likely either Ani or Gil was home at the moment. All for the best—that would probably make Maura feel less uncomfortable. He’d noticed that she was skittish, and not just around him. Maybe someday she’d completely relax in his presence. He wasn’t sure how to make that happen, except by proving himself over time to be trustworthy.
“My brother’s here,” he said absently as he maneuvered his truck into the second parking spot. “He might have some ideas.”
“Do we have to tell him?”
He glanced over at her in surprise. “You don’t trust Gil?”
“It’s not that. It’s just…I’d rather keep it to as small a circle as possible for now.”
He didn’t understand why, and it must have shown on his face.
“There’s probably going to end up being some simple explanation, and then I’ll feel like an idiot because I was the silly girl from the city who freaked out over a bunch of bunnies being bunnies,” she explained.
He nodded his understanding. “I’m glad you decided to include me in the circle.”
“You’re a scientist,” she said by way of explanation.
“I study the jokulhlaup, not wildlife.”
“Yes, I know what you study.” That was a surprise. Most people outside of Firelight Ridge hadn’t even heard of jokulhlaup unless they too lived near a glacier. The word was an Icelandic term and didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. “Pinky told me some stories about all the flooding that happens here when the ice dams melt. He said that you’re the expert.”
“I’m an expert. On glacial melt and flooding, not on weird animal behavior. If you want an expert on that, maybe one of the Chilkoots or?—”
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re the one I know. Pinky likes you. We talked it over and we both thought the same thing. Congratulations on your new mission, should you choose to accept it.”
“I do,” he said gravely. “And thanks for the vote of confidence. I am hereby sworn to secrecy until we all decide otherwise. Fair?”
“Very fair.” She smiled at him from under her thick knitted hat. It was a gray color that set off both her black hair and her deep blue eyes. “Thank you.”
He thought about walking inside the house and somehow…lying to Gil? “Maybe we should wait until Gil’s gone. I can’t lie to my brother. Literally, I can’t do it. He would know right away. We can’t hide anything from each other.”
“You don’t have to lie. Just say that I came over for a cup of tea. A friendly cup of tea. A get-to-know-the-new-girl cup of tea.”
That sounded like a date to him, but he decided not to point that out.
“Where are your maps?” she asked.
“In my office.”
“Is tea allowed in your office? Are new girls allowed in your office?”
“My office is open to anything. I once kept a litter of baby ermine in my office. Their mother had disappeared and they were starving. The warmest spot was next to my office heater.”
Her eyes pooled with sympathy. “Did they survive?”
“They survived long enough for me to release them back outside. I can’t say what happened to them after that. I set up a wildlife camera in hopes of catching a glimpse of them, but I never did. I hope they’re okay.”
She was watching him in the same way she watched Pinky tell his stories. “You’re a kind man.”
“So I’m told.” He made a rueful face. “I can’t help it. Gil wishes I was more ruthless, but I just don’t have it in me. I never have. He spent all of our childhood guarding me from jerks while I was happily oblivious.”
Another thing he’d never been able to do was hide who he was. He was a scientist who often had his head in the clouds—clouds of data and theorizing, but clouds nonetheless. If anyone expected him to be anything else, they’d be disappointed.
“I bet you protected him too,” said Maura, surprising him.
He had, in his own way. But how would she know that?
“I’m a teacher, I’m familiar with dynamics between kids,” she explained. “You were just as important to him as he was to you.”
“I have to think about that one,” he murmured. “Ready? It’s chilling down in here.” With the engine off, the moisture on his truck’s windows was starting to condense and the cold air was creeping inside.
She zipped her parka all the way up to her neck and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
As soon as they stepped outside, a blast of wind from the ravine made her yelp. He’d forgotten that when the wind came from the northeast like this, that happened. She took a step back, nearly stumbling over a chunk of ice that had gotten blown off the snowbank.
He hurried over to her and put an arm around her shoulder so they could face the wind together. She didn’t object or pull away.
So maybe the wind was good for something, he thought.
They burst through the door, wind-nipped and laughing, as Gil and Ani looked up from the couch. Ani’s legs were flung across Gil’s lap, and he was massaging her feet while she held a pencil and a book of crossword puzzles.
“Did the temperature drop again?” Gil asked. His hair, much darker than Lachlan’s, needed a trim, his beard was growing out, and he’d never looked happier.
“The wind picked up.” Lachlan dropped his arm from around Maura’s shoulder. She shivered, and he wondered if he should have kept it where it was. “You guys remember Maura, right? Pinky’s granddaughter.”
Ani and Gil offered smiles and waves, clearly trying not to make a big deal about the fact that Lachlan had brought a woman home with him. Living with his twin brother was great—Lachlan loved it—but he’d early on had to set clear boundaries that his life was his life, and not up for comment from his overprotective ever-so-slightly-older twin.
“Office is this way,” he told Maura. She started to follow him, but Ani disentangled her feet from Gil’s lap and stood up. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders in thick waves.
“Wait. I’ve been wanting to talk to Maura, actually. Do you have a second?”
Maura glanced at Lachlan in confusion. He shrugged, since this was news to him. “I’ll make us some tea. Go ahead.”
Maura toed off her snow boots and left them dripping on the rubber mat cluttered with various shoes and boots. In her stocking feet, she joined Ani and Gil in the living room, warily perching herself on the edge of an armchair.
Lachlan went into the kitchen to make tea, but he was still able to hear everything they said. He dumped a selection of tea bags in a bowl and grabbed two mugs, then brought all of it into the living room.
“Word around town is that you’re a teacher,” Ani said.
“That’s right. Mostly middle school lately, but I’ve also taught elementary.” Maura’s answer sounded wary.
“That’s perfect, then. You know I’ve been the go-to doctor in town ever since I came here. Even though I’m a pediatrician by training, that’s good enough for most people here. Better than the guy who used to be a vet tech, in other words.”
Maura smiled even as she glanced uncertainly at Lachlan. He shrugged again, unsure of where this was heading.
“Out here, people get excited whenever someone shows up who has special knowledge,” Gil explained. “You tend to get drafted into jobs you didn’t plan for.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Maura asked.
“Well, since the days of the copper mine, there hasn’t been a teacher here in Firelight Ridge. There also haven’t been a lot of kids. Sometimes there haven’t been any, except for the Chilkoots, who always homeschool. That’s the only option for people with school-age children.”
The tea kettle whistled, and Lachlan went back to the kitchen to fetch it. As he poured boiling water into his and Maura’s mugs, Ani continued.
“Anyway, this winter, we have five children in town besides the Chilkoots. I’ve met all of them due to various ear infections and cases of mumps. When their parents heard there was a teacher in town, every single one has asked me if there was a chance we could rope you into taking on some teaching. Of course that’s not why you’re here. You have a job, and for all I know you’re going back to it?—”
“I’m on leave for the entire school year,” said Maura. “Maybe longer.”
“Oh. Well.” Ani gave her a searching look. “Is that because you don’t like teaching, or…”
“No no, I like teaching.” Clearly, Maura didn’t want to explain further.
Lachlan stepped in. “Did these parents ask you to approach Maura?”
“No, but I thought I’d feel her out. So far, I’m not hearing a flat-out no.” She lifted her eyebrows. “If it’s a money question, I believe the parents would be willing to pool their funds, or work on a barter system, or really anything. They’re flexible and frankly, desperate. I can arrange a meeting if you’re open to the idea.”
“I…” Maura looked down at her hands, which were resting on her thighs, gripping them as if she was holding on to them for safety. Lachlan didn’t understand why this proposition would cause her distress, but it had obviously unnerved her. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Of course.” Ani clasped her hands under her chin. “Thank you for even considering it. I promise these are all good kids, no troublemakers to be found.”
“And the parents?” Maura murmured.
Ani laughed and didn’t answer, but Lachlan could tell it was a serious question. The potential students didn’t alarm her; the parents did.