She wasn’t sure just what had possessed her to come to the saloon this morning instead of taking Alison up on her invitation to join her at the clinic. Maybe it was just a need to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t family, although she supposed if she looked hard enough, she’d find that all these people were somehow inter-related.
Or maybe she was just looking for a little noise to distract her. But the saloon was almost empty except for a pair of old grizzled-looking men playing darts and cursing each pass in something that sounded vaguely as though it might have been Russian.
She crossed to the bar, looking at Ike, who remained on the other side. “You should have stools,” she commented.
He’d considered it when he and Luc had taken over, but decided it was a bad idea.
“No, gives the men a longer way to fall.” Ike grinned at her surprised expression as he reached beneath the counter for a bottle of ginger ale. He placed the soft drink on the counter in front of her. “This way, when they’ve had too much, they just sink to their knees and find the floor without hurting themselves.”
That was thoughtful, she supposed, in an off-beat sort of way. Lily looked at the bottle of soda. “But I didn’t—”
The smile that had been known to melt many a heart widened. A glass joined the bottle on the counter. “On the house, darlin.”’
She watched him pop the top of the bottle and then fill her glass. Retiring the bottle, Ike gave the glass a slight push in her direction. Accepting it, she inclined her head in thanks. “Do you call everyone ‘darlin”?”
“Only the ladies.” His eyes smiled at her. “Because they are. Each and every one of them.”
From anyone else, this would have been the supreme line. But for some reason, coming from Ike, it was believable. Still, the man had to be a handful. She thought of the outgoing blonde she’d met the other night. “What does your wife say?”
“Marta?” He went back to arranging the glasses on the shelf behind him. Lily could hear the affection leaping into his voice. “I’ve got the darlin’est wife in the world. She doesn’t mind. She says she knows it’s because I’m not good with names. I let her think that. So—” he turned around, wiping his hands on the towel he’d thrown on the counter “—are you sufficiently recovered from your encounter with the bear?”
Sipping her drink, Lily almost choked. She looked up at him sharply. And here she was, giving Max points for keeping his mouth shut. She should have known better. “Who told you about that?”
Her reaction mildly surprised him. She was acting suspiciously jumpy. He studied her closely as he answered her question.
“Why, Max did, of course. Seeing as how the bear doesn’t talk. And even if he did, grizzlies usually don’t come in here to socialize.”
Because she was polite, Lily forced a weak smile to her lips in response. But she didn’t feel like smiling. Not with the sick feeling taking hold in the pit of her stomach. Granted these people meant nothing to her, beyond her own kin, but she hated being the subject of ridicule.
“And just what is it that Max said?”
Definitely something there beyond what had been told. Ike knew he wouldn’t get any more out of Max. Max wasn’t the type to talk unnecessarily. That left the rest of the story in Lily’s hands.
“Why, that you held your own,” Ike said casually, wondering if she would fill in the blanks that were obviously there. “That when you saw the grizzly charging at you, you had the presence of mind to pick yourself out the tallest tree and climb it.”
She waited for the other shoe to fall, the laughter to begin. There was only silence. Even the dart game had come to an abrupt stop as the two men retreated to their tankards of warm ale sitting on a small table off to the side.
Lily unconsciously wet her lips. “What else did he say?”
Ike topped off her glass, thinking that Max Yearling could be one lucky man—if he played his cards right.
“That he thinks Victor scared the grizzly off and it was lucky for both of you that the old man turned up when he did. Nasty things, grizzlies. They can separate a man from his liver with just one swipe of those big paws of theirs.”
Again Lily waited for something to follow the Discovery-channel-like footnote. And again there was nothing more.
“And that’s all he said?” she prodded.
“Yes.” He kept his eyes on her. The light was dim, but not too dim for him to read the expression in her eyes. She was clearly surprised by the little he knew. “Why?” He kept the question on a conversational note. “What else is there?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, taking a long sip of her soda. Setting the glass down, she shrugged. “It’s just that men embellish…”
Maybe that was all she was afraid of. And maybe not. “You’re right there. But not all men. Not Max.” Ike grinned. Max had had a few wilder moments in his youth, but he’d come around. As had they all, he thought, remembering his own adolescence. Only Luc had never strayed, never given anyone a moment’s pause. Luc was one of a kind. “Straight as an arrow that one. Never knew him to bend the truth or take advantage of a situation.” Even when he’d been a hellion, that had been true. Max couldn’t lie. Ike figured it was a congenital thing.
Lily looked at the man on the other side of the bar, wavering. Did he know more about what had happened in the woods the other day than he was saying and was just being polite, or had Max really not said anything? Could the Lawman really be that upstanding?
The expression on his face gave nothing away, other than the fact that Ike LeBlanc enjoyed the company of women in such a way that both the women and his wife were happy.
Lily drained her glass, then watched Ike refill it. “What do you mean by ‘take advantage’?”
Empty, the bottle went into the trash container beneath the counter. The one Luc had insisted they keep for recyclables.
“You must have noticed that little girl who’s following Max around. Actually,” he amended, “she’s more than a little girl, she’s become rather a fetching young thing these days.” And trouble if he ever saw it, Ike added silently. But that was another story, one Alison’s sister didn’t need to hear. “There’s many a man here who’d happily make her his wife. But she’s always throwing herself in Max’s path and you can just tell what’s on her mind. But he acts as if she’s still ten years old, still the little girl he rescued from the fire.”
Taking out another bottle of ginger ale, he held it aloft, a silent question in his eyes.
She shook her head, placing her hand over the glass. If she had any more, she was going to float away. Or at least definitely need the ladies’ room. If this place even had one.
“Fire?” she asked.
Ike nodded, putting the bottle away. “The one that took her mother, God rest her soul.” The wilderness did strange things to people. He’d seen more than one person lose their mind out here. “It’s said the woman was a little mad and set the fire herself while her husband slept, passed out at the table. Max was driving by on his way home and saw the fire. He managed to rescue Vanessa and her father, but her mother was trapped inside.” His demeanor shelved the story now that Lily knew what she needed to know. Except to add, “He drinks a lot—Vanessa’s father does.”
What made people do that? she wondered. What made them abandon life and try to pickle their brains on a regular basis?
“Is he one of those people who sinks to his knees at the bar?”
“No, I used to cut him off before he got to that point,” Ike told her without any fanfare. Owning the Salty wasn’t just about making money. He had to live among these people. And he cared about them. They sought him out to act as their confessor and a certain amount of responsibility went along with that. “Man’s an ugly drunk.”
But Lily had caught on to something he’d said. “Used to?”
Ike wondered where all this questioning was headed. For a woman who seemed ready to pack up and leave, she was certainly curious.
“D
oesn’t come here anymore. Stays home to do his drinking.” He didn’t care to dwell on people’s weaknesses, even drunks like Ulrich. “By the way, I’ve been wondering if you’d do me a favor, darlin”’ He leaned over the counter, his eyes on hers. “The men have been asking me when you’re coming back to make that sauce of yours again.” He laughed. “Truth of it is, they’re getting kind of ugly about it, so I thought I’d ask you. I’d be paying you, of course—” he added quickly. He wasn’t a man who took charity, even when he needed it, which he didn’t anymore. But there had been a time…
Lily waved away the words. She wasn’t hurting for money. It was boredom that was getting to her. Boredom and random thoughts of Max that kept appearing out of nowhere, assailing her.
“No need,” she told him. “I’d love to.”
“Love to what?”
Startled and hating herself for appearing that way, Lily turned around to see what she already knew she would see. Max walking into the saloon. It was absolutely ridiculous, but she could feel her heart quickening at the sight of him.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Ike nodded a greeting. He stopped massaging the counter with his towel. “Kind of early for you, isn’t it, Max?”
“Just making my rounds.” The truth was, he was looking for her. Afraid she might have gone off again on her own.
She turned away, suddenly intrigued with her almost-empty glass of ginger ale. “That shouldn’t take long,” she commented.
What was it about this stuck-up woman that pushed his buttons? That rang his chimes louder than a cathedral bell on Christmas morning? All he could think about was spinning her around and crushing that haughty mouth of hers with his.
Damn, he sounded worse than that fool Jeremy Cross when he’d gotten smitten with Susan Tyler. The boy had been seventeen at the time and Susan had been his first love. He hadn’t been seventeen for a hell of a long time, but he was sure acting it, Max thought in disgust.
“It’s not just the town I patrol,” he pointed out tersely.
“That’s right,” she said loftily. “Your jurisdiction takes in the forest.”
“Just a hundred-mile radius,” Max corrected, suddenly wishing he wasn’t on duty and that it wasn’t before noon. He could do with a stiff drink. Maybe two. Maybe then he could stop thinking about peeling that tank top off her shoulders and down to her waist.
He forced himself to sound official. “I didn’t see Alison’s SUV—”
So he’d been to the house. Almost unwillingly, a smile curled through her like smoke. Had he come by to see her? Had he come by to say something about yesterday? Or was Max just playing sheriff and throwing his weight around?
She sniffed, as if it didn’t matter to her at all that he’d come by.
“That’s because Alison has it today. Luc drove off earlier. Said something about wanting to stop by the Inuit village.” He’d invited her to come along, but restless, she had decided to pass. She wouldn’t have been good company and she liked Luc and didn’t want him thinking less of her.
Max nodded. He knew all about where Luc had gone. But Luc didn’t concern him right now. What did concern him was that he’d hardly had any sleep last night. And when he had managed to drop off, it was to dream about her. About feeling Lily’s sleek, supple body on top of his and wanting her so badly that it tore him apart. A man can’t sleep long with dreams like that. And he can’t function long on no sleep. He was definitely facing a dilemma.
“Just making sure you weren’t getting treed again,” he told her crisply.
Ike could smell a battle coming on. Self-preservation meant keeping well out of the range of fire. Taking his towel, he backed away from the bar. “Well, if you two’ll excuse me, I’ve got some things to tend to in the storeroom.”
Max knew what the other man was up to. “No need to disappear, Ike.” He put his hat back on his head. “I’m leaving.”
“Wasn’t disappearing,” Ike protested amiably, “was working.” And then he winked broadly at Lily. “Always working.”
Maybe she should be leaving, too, Lily thought. She indicated the empty glass on the counter. “Thanks for the soda.”
“Don’t mention it.” Taking the glass, he placed it in the sink beneath the counter and wiped away the slight watery ring that had been left in its wake. “And tell me when you’re ready to take on my kitchen again.”
Max’s arrival had made her forget about that. Forget about everything, she thought ruefully. The reminder brought a smile of anticipation to her lips. “How’s tomorrow night?”
Ike allowed his pleasure to come into his eyes. “Tomorrow night’s wonderful, darlin’. I’ll see if I can rustle up some cayenne pepper for you by then.”
“Not for me, for the sauce.”
He winked. “Same thing, darlin’, same thing.”
Lily laughed and waved as she walked out.
Max was close behind her, trying not to get sidetracked by the way her hips swayed as she moved. Easier said than done. “You putting on another cooking exhibition?”
She wasn’t sure if he was making fun of her or not. She was admittedly thin-skinned when it came to Max. “Is that what you call it?”
He walked with her, wondering where she was off to next and if he should offer her a ride somewhere. He did know that he wanted to be alone with her. To have her sitting beside him, even in his car, smelling of spices he couldn’t name and wildflowers that he could.
“Well, it isn’t just a regular meal,” he said honestly. “You cook the way I figure angels do. It’s nothing like I was raised on. But then, I’m not complaining,” he was quick to add. “Grandma’s specialty was food for the soul, not the stomach.”
Lily stopped walking and looked at him. He was an unusual man, she had to give him that. Maybe even an enigma. He didn’t brag like other men and he gave women their due. But there was something dangerous about him, dangerous to her way of life and, while she wasn’t exactly sure what that danger was, she knew enough to keep clear of it.
So why did she want to be with him so badly? Why had she even justified having a fling with him to herself? Why had she all but jumped his bones at the lake yesterday?
Lily had no answers. Only questions.
And one piece of evidence. “Ike told me what you said about yesterday.” Max raised a brow, his look slightly uncertain. Had she spooked him? “That you didn’t tell him what happened.”
“But I did,” he told her mildly. “You were out by the lake, the bear saw you and you climbed a tree to get out of his way.”
She pressed her lips together impatiently. Was he trying to worm some kind of apology out of her? What was the angle here? Everyone had an angle, that much she’d learned a long time ago. “You didn’t tell him what happened after.”
Max’s expression was unfazed. There was no hidden wink, no knowing look. “That’s because nothing happened after.”
She cocked her head, trying to decide, Ike’s accolades notwithstanding, whether Max was on the level. “Is that the way you see it?”
The sunlight was glinting in her hair, making it lighter in places. He liked it midnight-black, but the highlights intrigued him.
“How do you see it?”
She hated having questions turned back on her. “What are you, part psychiatrist?”
He laughed, more to himself than at her question. “I’m part anything you want out here. Sheriff, psychiatrist, priest.” He thought of Shayne’s son. “Fishing buddy. Anything and everything.”
He meant it, she realized. He wasn’t just pulling her leg, he meant it. Believed every word he was saying. “That must be some oath you took.”
He grinned at her and she could feel its punch right into her stomach. “Does cover a lot of territory.”
Whatever comment she was to make was forgotten. The sound of screeching tires caught his attention. Max looked toward the north side of town just as a car came to a sudden, noisy halt in front of the jail across the str
eet. He recognized it. It belonged to Sam Jeffords.
The next minute he saw Jeffords get out, open the rear door and roughly yank someone out of the vehicle. Two of Jeffords’s men piled out of the other side of his car. But it was the tall, gaunt man Jeffords was manhandling who had his undivided attention.
Victor.
“Looks like I need to be covering some more,” he said, picking up on her last comment.
Without another word, Max hurried toward the jail.
Lily didn’t even stop to think her actions through, she just reacted. Following him, she practically trotted until she caught up and could fall into step beside him. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked genuinely concerned.
“What’s going on?”
He didn’t say anything in response, although she was certain he knew the answer.
Instead, Max called out the same question to the men who were about to enter the jail. “What’s going on, Jeffords?”
The tall, gray-haired man swung around, his hold on his captive never slackening.
“‘What’s going on’?” he snarled at Max, incensed. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I caught him at it. You’re there,” he growled at Max, “twiddling your thumbs and looking the other way because you’re pals with these people, but I caught him red-handed. Caught him springing my traps. Destroying them,” he raged. “Now I want you to do something about it.” The fact that he couldn’t seem to rile Max angered him even further. “Damn it, Yearling, a man’s got a right to earn a living.”
Max rarely, if ever, lost his temper and now wasn’t the time, even if he thought of Jeffords as the hind part of a horse. Saying so wasn’t going to help Victor.
“No question about it,” Max agreed easily. “And I’d say from the way you spend money that the living you’re earning is a pretty good one.”
Jeffords narrowed his eyes, his bushy brows touching in an angry line above them. “That’s my right. I’m within the law.”
Max inclined his head, remaining infuriatingly in perfect agreement with the other man. “That you are.”
Lily and the Lawman Page 11