Chapter 10
10
“So the story is that Elias was out at the Chilkoot property helping the men clear out the snow after that last storm,” Maura told Lachlan that evening, at The Fang. “By the way, they seem to have very strict gender roles out there. What’s the story with that?”
Lachlan shrugged as he rinsed out a glass for the red wine she’d ordered. “I know very little about the Chilkoots. They’re skeptical about scientists, although apparently they know plenty about explosives.”
At her startled expression, he added, “I’ll tell you that story another time. Go ahead with the wolf bite.”
“They were working on a path to their greenhouse when a man came zooming out of the woods on a snowmobile. He was bleeding and nearly incoherent. He practically fell off the snowmobile because his leg wasn’t working right. They took him into the longhouse and slathered him with antiseptics. They didn’t know who he was, and they’re not too crazy about strangers out there. So Elias offered to bring him into town to see Ani.”
Lachlan frowned, since Ani hadn’t mentioned a strange man getting bitten by a wolf. “Did he?”
“No, the man said he didn’t want to see a doctor, that he’d be fine. He said he was doing some surveying and was crouched down in the snow taking a reading when the wolf sprang at him out of nowhere.” Maura shivered and accepted the wine he slid across the counter toward her. She blew on it, which was her habit, as if the wine was steaming hot instead of the typical room temperature of all Fang beverages.
“A surveyor in the winter?”
“That’s what you get out of this whole story?” Maura’s deep blue eyes twinkled at him. “I was more interested in the wolf. Is it normal for wolves to attack out of the blue?”
“They usually avoid humans, as far as I know. What did Elias say? He probably knows more about the local wolf packs than I do.”
“He said he’d never heard of it happening. He says the wolves keep their distance from humans. Not even our food smells attract them because they have plenty of food in the Wrangells, even in the winter. People rarely lose their chickens around here. He figured it was a territorial thing.”
Lachlan thought about a colleague of his who studied gray wolves in the Canadian Rockies. “I can consult with a friend of mine and find out if that sounds likely.”
“That’d be great.” Maura closed her eyes as the buzz of the alcohol settled in. “Mmm, thanks for the wine. I’m lucky, you know? I’m sensitive to alcohol so I can only manage one glass a night, which saves money. I’m also very lucky that I’m not predisposed to becoming an alcoholic.”
“No alcoholism in your family?”
“None.” She opened her eyes. “The only things my parents are addicted to is coupon-cutting in the case of my mom and hedge-clipping in the case of my father. They’re both perfectly content just snip-snipping away at things.”
He smiled, enjoying Maura-after-a-sip-of-wine as much as he enjoyed every other version of Maura. They’d formed a tenuous friendship by now, one that still held plenty of things unsaid, which by mutual agreement they didn’t allow to derail their relationship.
“So it’s strange for a surveyor to be here in the winter?” she asked.
“I would think so. Most surveying happens in the summer. But I suppose for some areas it might be easier to get around once there’s a deep enough layer of snow for the snowmobile to travel on. But why would they survey anyway? Most of the land around here belongs to the National Park. Do you know where he was working? Did Elias say?”
“Apparently he asked the man, but all he said was ‘to the east.’ Pretty vague. I wonder…” She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips to gather a stray droplet of wine. He tried not to pay too close attention. “There hasn’t been a big snowstorm since then. Maybe we could go out there and follow his tracks.”
He cocked his head at her. “Just curious, why are you so interested?”
“In a random man getting attacked by a wolf?” She smiled a little. “Wouldn’t anyone be interested in that?”
“Sure, as a weird anecdote to tell your friends once you’re back in the outside world. It seems you’re taking it much further than that.”
She took a sip of wine and held it on her tongue. He watched her throat muscles move when she finally swallowed it down. “Have you ever felt completely helpless, Lachlan?”
“Sure. Hasn’t everyone? We’re born helpless. We’d die if our parents weren’t there to feed us and protect us.”
A hand wave at the other end of the bar caught his attention. “Be right back.”
After taking Martha’s order, he fetched a bowl of mushroom soup from the kitchen for her. As he handed it to her, he noticed she looked tired, and it occurred to him that the sheep farmer rarely ordered food from The Fang. She was in her early forties, a hard-working, strong woman with a kind face weathered into laugh-lines. As always, she wore a hat knitted from her own sheep’s wool, with cozy ear flaps that she’d bent upwards, now that she was inside.
“Is everything okay?” he asked her.
“Oh sure. Winter blues. You know how it is.”
“You love the winter,” he pointed out. “You’re always saying how annoying the summer is, between the tourists and the mosquitoes.”
“And the black flies. They’re almost as bad as the tourists.” A slight smile lightened her face. Then it vanished again and she gave a deep sigh. “I don’t know, Lachlan. I just don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Something was definitely going on with her.
“I can’t talk about it. It’s all confidential. Lawyers. They’re worse than the black flies. Except Molly,” she added quickly. “Gotta love Molly.”
“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.