by Cindy Myers
“That’s too bad. Now, what would you like to eat?”
They ordered burgers and Janelle returned to the kitchen. Barb watched her departure, then turned to Maggie. “See, you belong here. These people like you, the witch at the library excepted.”
“Yes, it’s a nice place. And I like it here. But what would I do for a living if I stayed? My dad didn’t leave me enough to live on for the rest of my life.”
“I’m still holding out hope for the mine,” Barb said. “But there must be something you can do.”
“I know how to manage an office, but there aren’t that many businesses in Eureka.”
“That’s what you’ve always done, but is it really what you’ve always wanted to do?” Barb sipped her tea. “You’ve got a chance here to build a totally new life. What’s your dream job?”
“You mean besides being George Clooney’s kept mistress?”
“Besides that.”
Maggie rested her chin in her hand and idly stirred her tea with the straw. “I used to want to be a writer. This sounds dumb, but reports and letters and stuff like that were my favorite part of running the office.”
“Then you could write a novel.”
“People don’t just wake up one morning and decide to write a novel. It’s a lot of work.”
“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t try. In the meantime, we’ll keep our eyes open for something else.”
Maggie started to protest that it wasn’t up to Barb to find her a job, but decided not to waste her breath. Barb liked to look after people and frankly, Maggie liked being looked after. Sometimes.
Danielle delivered their burgers, along with a bottle of ketchup and extra napkins. As she bent over their table, Maggie noticed the necklace of blue stones around her neck—stones like the ones they’d found in the mine. “Where did you get your necklace?” she asked.
Danielle put one hand to the circlet of stones. “Murph gave it to me.”
Maggie exchanged a look with Barb. “Did he say where he got it?” Barb asked. “I’ve never seen one quite like it.”
“He said he picked it up in his travels,” Danielle said. “He was always doing things like that; going away for a while, then showing up with gifts and stuff.”
“He didn’t say where in his travels he got the necklace?” Maggie asked.
“No, but he gave one to Janelle, too.”
The front door opened and a couple came in; Danielle went to greet them. Maggie leaned across the table and spoke to Barb in a whisper. “So maybe the stones didn’t come out of the mine at all,” she said.
“Or maybe he wasn’t telling the truth,” Barb said. “We’ve already established your old man could lie when it suited him.”
Had her father lied about the origin of the necklace, perhaps to keep the mine safe from poachers like Bob? She half hoped the old miner would show up so she could question him again, but no one she recognized came into the café while she and Barb finished their meal.
Stuffed and feeling in need of a nap, Maggie led the way up the stairs to Reggie’s office, but before they were halfway up she spotted the Closed sign on the door. She finished the climb anyway, and tried the knob, but the office was shut tight and dark.
“We don’t really need him now anyway,” Barb said as they descended to the parking lot once more. “Tomorrow we can bring your laptop to the café.”
“I know, but I wanted you to meet Reggie. He’s a really nice guy. And I need to ask him if he has a date for probate yet.”
“Maybe he’ll be in tomorrow.” Barb looked down the row of storefronts. “What else is there in Eureka that I shouldn’t miss?” she asked.
“There’s someone else I want you to meet. Come on. It’s just a short walk.”
At Lacy’s, they found Lucille unpacking boxes of raku pottery. “Hey, Maggie,” she greeted the newcomers. “Come see my latest acquisition.” She held up a squat vase. “A collector near Cortez decided to sell some of his treasures and I’m handling the consignment.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Maggie stroked the rough side of the pot. It shone with shades of copper and brown, and hints of purple. “Do you think you can sell it?”
“You’d be surprised what passes through here.” Lucille opened another box and began cutting Bubble Wrap away from another pot. “I have collectors who stop by here regularly, along with folks looking to furnish high-dollar homes in Telluride. And I have a Web site where a lot of the pricier stuff finds buyers. This may look like just a junk shop, but there’s more to it than that.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—” Maggie flushed. She had thought of Lucille as more of a junk dealer, but she could see now she’d underestimated the woman. After all, Maggie had seen all that Haviland china on her first visit. Apparently it hadn’t been as out of place as she thought.
“Hi, I’m Barbara Stanowski.” Barb stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’m visiting Maggie from Houston.”
“Nice to meet you, Barbara. I’m Lucille.”
“Lucille is the mayor of Eureka,” Maggie said.
“Then do you have any authority over the town librarian?” Barb asked. “The woman isn’t the best representative of Eureka hospitality.”
Lucille set aside the pot and sent Maggie a questioning look. “What did Cassie do?” she asked.
“She refused to let us use the Internet in the library,” Barb said. “She said it was because Maggie doesn’t have a library card, but she won’t issue her one without a utility bill, which you know she doesn’t have, or a driver’s license showing an address in Eureka County.”
“I can talk to her, but the county commissioners are the only ones with authority, and they pretty much let her make her own rules.”
“Why does everyone let her bully people?” Maggie asked, remembering Reggie’s warnings about Cassie Maggie’s first day in town.
“She’s really not a bully,” Lucille said. “She’s great with kids. Her family has lived here for four generations, but she’s the only one left. She has her problems, but she’s really not that bad. Her biggest fault is that she holds a grudge.”
“But Maggie hasn’t done anything to her,” Barb protested. “The woman is mad at a dead man and taking it out on Maggie. That’s sick.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Lucille said. “In the meantime, the easiest thing would be for Maggie to get her driver’s license updated.” She smiled at Maggie. “After all, you are living here now.”
“I haven’t decided yet to make it permanent.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and felt the two small stones from the mine.
She took them out and showed them to Lucille. “Have you seen any stones like this before?” she asked.
Lucille fingered the tiny stones and smiled. “I have a bracelet with similar stones that Murph gave me. Where did you find those?”
“Around my dad’s place.” Maggie put her hand, and the stones, back in her pocket. “Did he say where he got the bracelet he gave you?”
Lucille tilted her head, thinking. “I’m pretty sure he told me it was from a jeweler’s in Montana.” She nodded. “Yes, I’m positive that’s what he said. Why?”
“Just wondering. I think these may have come from another bracelet or necklace that broke. If I find the rest of them, maybe I can get it fixed.”
“That’s a good idea.” Lucille turned back to her boxes. “Is there anything else I can help you ladies with today?”
“No, thanks,” Maggie said. “I’m just showing Barb all the sights of Eureka.”
“You should take her out to Living Water,” Lucille said. “There’s nothing like that in Houston, I promise you.”
Barb waited until they were back at Maggie’s car before she asked the question Maggie knew had been burning on her tongue. “Living Water? Isn’t that the naked hot springs you told me about?”
“Clothing optional,” Maggie said as she slid into the driver’s seat. “You can wear a swimsuit if you want.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit with me. Besides, you know what they say about when in Rome. If people in Eureka go skinny-dipping at the hot springs, then I will, too.”
“Barb!” The word came out as more of a yelp.
“Oh, come on, Maggie. What’s the big deal? You don’t have any parts no one else doesn’t have. And after crawling around on my hands and knees half the morning in that mine, soaking in a hot springs sounds divine.”
“I’ve never been there before.” Maggie’s stomach knotted and she gripped the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver.
“Then now’s a great time to go, while I’m here to hold your hand.” Barb laughed. “Come on. What are you afraid of?”
What was she afraid of? Of being embarrassed? It wouldn’t be the first time in her life. Of being judged? There was that, but why should she care what people who were most likely strangers thought of her?
She glanced at Barb, whose smile was warm and encouraging. “The hot water would feel good,” she said.
“That’s my girl.” Barb patted her shoulder. “Let’s go try it out.”
Maggie’s stomach was doing backflips by the time she guided her car through the gate in Living Water’s high wooden fence, but it calmed some as she drove through the beautifully landscaped grounds.
“This is gorgeous,” Barb said as the car glided past flowerbeds filled with blooms and a stretch of manicured lawn. “It’s like some European spa.”
They parked by the office and went inside. A young woman with tattoos of flowers covering both arms greeted them. “Hi there. Is this your first visit to Living Water?”
Gee, how can you tell? Maggie thought.
“Yes,” Barb announced. “We’re virgins.”
The girl giggled. “Don’t worry. You’re going to love it.”
She explained the layout of the grounds and the various pools, issued towels, and pointed them to the changing room.
“You haven’t been a virgin since tenth grade,” Maggie said when they reached the changing room.
“Neither have you, but isn’t it a lovely idea? To have an experience that’s brand new?”
They stripped off their clothes and stuffed them in a locker, then, wrapped in towels, followed a hallway to the entrance to the soaking area.
Rock paths wound among more flower beds to the naturally heated pools. The stone was cold beneath Maggie’s feet and she shivered a little, feeling vulnerable with only this thin towel between herself and the outside air.
“The main pond is this way,” Barb said, starting down a path.
“I thought maybe we’d start somewhere smaller,” Maggie protested. “Less public.”
“Nonsense. We should dive right in.”
Murmured conversation alerted them to their approach to the main soaking pond. They rounded a bend in the path and the large, kidney-shaped pool came into view. Steam rose from the surface, blurring the images of men and women seated around the edges or floating in the middle. A quick scan revealed not one person was wearing more than a hat.
“Oh, this looks divine,” Barb said. Not waiting for a reply, she dropped her towel and headed for the water.
Chapter 14
Maggie froze, one hand clutching the front of the towel she’d wrapped around herself, the other clenched at her side. This was the story of her life—head full of ideas that sounded wild and daring, fear holding her back from carrying out any of them. When her friends in high school had skipped school to go to the beach, she’d stayed in class and suffered through Mrs. Prebble’s feminine hygiene lesson. She’d bought a sensible sedan instead of the sports car she’d craved because her mother had told her sports cars were dangerous. When the urge to cut her hair in a stylish, slightly punk cut had hit, she’d let Carter convince her she wouldn’t look like herself, though she could see now that had been the whole point. She was tired of being herself—dull, sensible, and safe.
“Come on in. The water feels wonderful,” Barb called, smiling up at her like some middle-aged water nymph.
Heart pounding, Maggie let go of the towel and hurried into the water, submerging up to her neck in its warm embrace.
“Your face is all red,” Barb said.
“It’s the heat.” Maggie put one hand to her burning cheek and fought the urge to wrap both arms across her torso, as if that would somehow preserve her tattered modesty.
“This makes me feel like a teenager,” Barb stretched her arms over her head and looked up at the sky. “Do you remember skinny-dipping out at the reservoir?”
“I never went skinny-dipping at the reservoir.” Something else she’d been too chicken to try.
“You didn’t?” Barb laughed. “Well, you can make up for it now. You can come here all the time.”
“I’m only here now because of you.”
“Come on now. Don’t you think it feels great?”
The water flowed around her like warm silk. She could say the same thing about a hot bath, but the sensation of standing here in broad daylight, with the sun overhead and other people around, was oddly . . . invigorating. “It feels good,” she admitted. “Just sort of . . . exposed.”
Barb laughed. “You are too much, darling.”
“I see you ladies are enjoying yourselves.”
Maggie’s head snapped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Bob was wading toward them through the water, his naked chest sprinkled with white hair like frost on a weathered log. She jerked her gaze away, determined not to look down. Even the thought of shriveled old man bits was enough to traumatize her.
“This place is divine,” Barb cooed. “It must be the best-kept secret in Colorado.”
“Oh, we’ve got plenty of secrets hereabouts.” Bob turned to Maggie. “You take a look in the French Mistress yet?”
“We explored the mine this morning,” Barb said before Maggie had a chance to open her mouth. “I was sadly disappointed. There was nothing there but a bunch of rock.”
“Some of that rock can be worth a lot of money,” Bob said. “If it’s the right kind.”
“I don’t think there’s anything valuable in that mine,” Maggie said. “I think the only reason my dad bought it was because it was remote and nobody would bother him up there.”
“Too lonely for you?” Bob asked.
“I’m not lonely.” The admission surprised her. She’d been far lonelier in the house in Houston after Carter left than she’d been in her father’s cabin on the mountain. “I haven’t had time to be lonely,” she said.
“You’ll have plenty of time when you’re snowed in this winter,” Bob said. “If you decide to stay.”
“Are you going to stay?” Barb asked.
The back of Maggie’s neck prickled. Was it her imagination or had everyone leaned in to hear her answer? Had Jameso been serious about the locals placing bets on how long she’d stay in town? “I haven’t decided,” she hedged. “I still have to wait for my father’s will to be probated.”
“Probate’s set for Friday.” Reggie, wearing only a ball cap and sunshades—and a surprising amount of body hair—slipped into the water beside them. “I was going to drive up and tell you later today.”
“Um, okay.” Maggie covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. Yes, Eureka was a small town, but she felt as if she was in the middle of some wild farce. The only thing more ridiculous would be if the rest of the soakers in the pool broke into a Broadway-worthy song and dance.
“You must be Maggie’s friend from Houston.” Reggie offered his hand. “I’m Reggie Paxton.”
“I see my reputation precedes me.” Barb shook hands. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jameso told us he took you up to Jake’s place yesterday morning.”
“Who is ‘us’?” Maggie asked. Was Jameso sharing her schedule with everyone in town?
“Somebody commented on the moving truck parked behind Jameso’s place,” Reggie said. “It was either tell the truth or have a rumor spread about him leaving town.”
“You seem pretty interesting to me.” Bob waggled his eyebrows in the manner of some melodrama villain.
“What’s Jameso’s story?” Barb asked. “How did he end up in Eureka? Is he from here?”
“Almost nobody is from Eureka,” Bob said. “Jameso showed up a few years ago and just sorta took. Like one of those windblown seeds that manages to take root in the rocks.”
“Where’s he from?” Maggie asked. “Why did he come here? Eureka’s not exactly on the way to anyplace else.”
“He might have come for the skiing or the fishing,” Reggie said. “I drove through here on a motorcycle seventeen years ago and fell in love. Moved back permanent as soon as I could quit my job and sublet my apartment in Milwaukee.”
“So your wife is from here?” Maggie asked. She’d heard of people doing stranger things for love.
Reggie laughed. “I moved here because I fell in love with the mountains. Katya came later.”
“There’s a saying around here that people who stay in Eureka are either running to or running from something,” Bob said.
“Which are you?” Barb asked.
“I come here to prospect for gold,” Bob said. “So I was running to.”
“I guess my father was running from,” Maggie said. She hadn’t yet decided if he saw his cabin on the mountain as a refuge or an exile.
“What’ll it be, Maggie?” Barb asked.
“What do you mean?” She blinked at her friend.
Barb winked. “Are you running from or running to?”
“I’m not running at all,” she said lightly, but the words left her feeling heavy. She’d spent years moving her feet and going nowhere at all, treading water in a life that left her feeling empty. If nothing else, the divorce had forced her to think about moving, though where she’d end up she still hadn’t a clue.
“Is Rick around here?” An older woman who walked with a decided limp hobbled to the edge of the pool. She wore khaki cargo shorts and a T-shirt with the Living Waters logo, and no bra, judging by the way her breasts hung somewhere near her navel. Maggie folded her arms under her own breasts, lifting them a little higher. They weren’t sagging too much yet, but was it only a matter of time?