LITMIR.BIZ

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but old-fashioned streetlights threw pools of gold along the curved streets. It seemed to her a very romantic place—in the old sense of that word—with several skaters on the lake and people bundled up, roasting marshmallows or hot dogs over a fire on the beach.

      “If we just had snow it would look like a Currier and Ives card,” she told him.

      “We do have sleigh rides next month. I’ll take you on one.”

      So, she thought, with another frisson of excitement, he intended that they would go on, be friends at least. The way he looked at her and some of the things he said made her believe—and hope—he meant this was the beginning of more. No, that would never work. Not only were they from different worlds, but almost different universes. Without realizing it, she heaved a deep sigh.

      “What?” he asked as he drove out toward the highway past the stone sign announcing Lake Azure Community.

      “It just seems a sort of haven, that’s all. I hope those who live there appreciate it, especially when they drive in past the derelict farmhouses and old town.”

      “Some know how blessed they are, some don’t and won’t.”

      “How about Royce Flemming?”

      “He wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Char. He worked his way up, just like my father.”

      “At least your father didn’t mean to leave you.”

      “Like your dad did? I got the idea you and your sisters had made up with him.”

      “We have, but it doesn’t quite heal the initial pain of desertion. I was close to my mom, too, and cancer took her.”

      “We have a lot more to get to know about each other, to share.”

      As he turned up the curved road toward her cabin, the headlights of the big car slashed through bushes and tree limbs. “By the way,” he said, “since I take it you liked the look and feel of Lake Azure, there’s a place that needs a house sitter this winter—folks who head to Florida, just in case you change your mind about—”

      “You said you wouldn’t try to talk me out of staying in the cabin up here. I decided to do it and I will. A woman with her own opinions, right?”

      “Right,” he said, but he hit the steering wheel with his fist, lightly, just once.

      He pulled into the cabin’s narrow drive, and they sat there a moment. He switched off his headlights, then turned them on again. She had the feeling he’d say more, maybe try to talk her out of staying here again. But he got out, leaving his headlights on so they could see. She’d left a light on inside the kitchen, but it did little to pierce the hovering blackness here. This place had a different feel from the vast openness of Navajo land at night. Closer, tighter with the hills, even though her location overlooked the open valley far below.

      Just to make the point again that she was her own woman, she was tempted to open her car door before he came around, but she let him do it. He took her hand as they headed for the cabin, which now looked so small.

      They stood in the beams from the headlights, while she fumbled with the unfamiliar key and new lock. Reluctant to go in, to end this night, she opened the wooden door a crack. It had a glass window that came partway down, lending them wan light from inside, though it was no match for the headlights.

      “What’s that old but true line?” she asked as he stood close, blocking the wind for her. “I’ve had a wonderful time—and I mean it.”

      “Me, too,” he said, and lifted a warm hand to tip her chin up. “I want you to understand that tonight was not really payback for what you did. I wanted to do it—for myself, too, as if nothing bad had ever thrown us together in the first place.”

      Char started to nod as he dipped his head to kiss her. Soft at first, almost friendly, then serious for sure. She felt like a naive teen on her first date, unsteady, curious, needy.

      They broke the kiss and stepped apart, still staring at each other, lit by the headlights. She moved her hand to shove the door open and he took a step back to turn away. Without warning, an arrow slammed into the door and stuck there, quivering between them.

       7

      Matt grabbed her—almost tackled her—and rolled them off the low concrete single step into the wet leaves. He pulled her around the corner of the cabin, where they huddled, kneeling with her pressed between him and the outside wall.

      “I—I can’t believe that,” she whispered. “We could have—could have been hit.”

      “And I’m the common denominator. Either someone’s been following me, looking for another chance at me, or someone’s staked out your place, knowing we’re together.”

      They were whispering in each other’s ears. “The headlights made us the perfect target,” she said. “If we hadn’t stepped apart...the arrow came head high, not chest level.”

      “Either way it could have killed one or both of us.”

      She was not only scared but furious. Someone had ruined her new place, ruined this beautiful night.

      “Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to get to the car, turn it around so the headlights shine into the trees where the arrow must have come from. It’s sticking in the wood at an upward angle—like it was shot from the sky. Probably just arced up, then hit.”

      “Should we call Gabe?”

      “Not unless we spot someone. My bet is we’ll find no one out there. And it’s late. Let’s give him a break and call him in the morning. Tonight you can go down to stay in one of the guest rooms at the lodge where—”

      “It’s my first night here! I’m not running, even if some stupid hunter or even worse wants to scare me off.”

      “Char, just for the night!”

      “I’m not going to leave. I’m going to get that arrow for evidence, tape up the hole and lock my doors.”

      “Then I’m staying, too.”

      “What?”

      “I’ll sleep on the couch, just in case.”

      “And if it’s you the shooter’s after? That could have been the second attempt on your life.”

      “You just hunker down here, and I’ll be right back.”

      He ran low to his car, got in and turned it around, switching on his brights so the headlights probed the trees on the other side of her driveway. She peered around the corner of her cabin. Nothing except shifting shadows of the tree trunks, one against the other. Then glowing eyes, like a cat’s—oh, two deer—peered out at them before bounding off. Could some local hunter have been stalking game at night, shot, and the arrow missed and zinged into her door, a freak accident a hunter didn’t want to own up to? Elinor Hanson said her husband sometimes hunted with bow and arrow, so others must, too. Lake Azure had an archery range.

      Matt finally turned off his headlights and got out of his car. He locked it behind him with a touch of the key. The lights blinked once before the car went dark.

      “Did you see the deer?” she asked.

      “You mean someone was aiming at those deer and hit your door? If you make me leave, I will, but I think I should stay the night to make sure nothing else happens.”

      And so, Matt Rowan spent the night of their first date in her cabin. Actually, she was glad to have him on the couch between her and the pierced front door. Except having him so close all night not only comforted her but made her toss and turn in half-waking dreams not of fear but of longing.

      * * *

      At seven in the morning, Char heard Matt talking on the phone about things

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