Sleigh Bells in Valentine Valley (13 page)

As she put the dirty dishes in the bus bin behind the bar, she said to Tony, “Thanks for saving me.”

“You do have a table—although I could have started it for you. What was going on back there?”

“Lots of personal questions about why I'm working for you.”

“You didn't explain that you were hot for me?”

The silverware crashed together as she dropped it in the bin before pulling herself together again. Breezing by him, she said, “You wish.” Then she had another thought. “Hey, do me a favor. Write your sister's cell phone number down for me.”

“Why?”

“We have a truce, remember? I'm going to take it another step further.”

“Okay, I'll give you her home phone, too. You know how bad reception can be around here. And in return for that favor, I want reassurances that my sister is okay.”

“No details she doesn't authorize,” Kate said, grabbing glasses of ice water for her table.

“Fine.”

From behind the bar, Tony watched Kate surreptitiously. She smiled at her new customers, bubbled with friendliness, all things he would never associate with her lawyer persona. She really had remembered all her old people skills.

Then he remembered her suggestions about using social media to market the tavern. For a moment, he flashed into the past and wondered if she was trying to get him more business because she didn't think he was doing well enough on his own, that the tavern wasn't quite good enough for her.

And then he stopped himself; that was an old response to an old attitude. Kate was working for him now, and though she certainly didn't need the money, she was doing a good job and obviously trying to help him with her ideas.

He wasn't surprised that she still felt guilty over all the work she'd had to do in law school, the work that had taken her away from Ethan. She loved their son, and Tony knew it was difficult to be away from him. Maybe that guilt was part of the reason she was here at the tavern.

“L
yndsay? It's Kate.”

There was a momentary silence. Kate winced, hoping the mountain cell phone interference wasn't going to make this more difficult.

“Kate,” Lyndsay began slowly. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I didn't mean to startle you or anything. And I waited until I thought you'd be done with school before calling. I was wondering, with our truce and everything, if you'd go to the Christmas market with me tonight.”

It was Friday afternoon, Kate had the day off, and she figured she should start to see more people—and not just in a work capacity.

“Oh.”

Lyndsay gave another long pause, and Kate found her shoulders sagging.

“Okay, I guess,” Lyndsay said. “I'm a couple blocks over from Grace Street. I could walk to you and then we could go together.”

Kate felt an absurd desire to pump a fist in the air. “Great! The widows were at the tavern yesterday discussing the market, and it made me really curious. Have you gone?”

“Nope, I'm a virgin, too.”

Kate smiled. “I hear there are food booths, too. I guess I'll skip dinner and see what we find.”

“I'll be there around six. That okay?”

“It's a date. See you then.” Kate hung up, feeling relieved and happy.

She already had a good start on her day, having had a conversation with Howie Jr., of Deering Family Real Estate. He'd been a few years behind her in high school and seemed genuinely pleased that she was at least temporarily in town. They'd discussed what she wanted, and by midafternoon, he'd e-mailed a half dozen listings for her to look at online. Once she picked the ones she liked, they would set up a time to see them this weekend. She was already giddy about it. Her mother had been a little disappointed, but she'd understood.

When Lyndsay knocked on the door, Kate shrugged into her heavy jacket and answered it. Lyndsay was wearing a winter headband over her ears again. “Did I tell you how good you look in bangs?” Kate said.

Lyndsay blinked. “Thanks. And I like your hair short.”

“Thanks back. Now that we're done admiring each other, let's go!” As they stepped onto the porch and walked down the stairs, Kate glanced at Tony's house. “I did invite Ethan, but he very politely declined. I don't think Christmas crafts are a teenage boy's idea of fun.”

“Since I'm with kids his age all day long, I can agree with your assessment.”

They smiled at each other. It wasn't a completely relaxed smile, but Kate thought there was progress. As the snow softly fell, they cut across Seventh Street, then walked up Nellie.

“I know Ethan's never had you for a teacher,” Kate said, hands deep in her pockets for warmth. “Was that deliberate?”

“School policy.”

“So . . . do the other teachers say good things?”

Lyndsay laughed. “You've seen his report cards. He's a dream to teach, and no one has anything bad to say.”

“Whew, glad to hear it. His success is mostly due to your brother, who keeps on top of things during the week.”

“Well I know that, but it's nice to see you do, too. And now you can stop buttering me up.”

They exchanged a more relaxed grin.

When they reached the park that lined Silver Creek, Kate gasped at the beauty of the gazebo outlined in white lights, with a tall evergreen behind it illuminated with even more lights. Streams of people moved past them, and she saw a little village of wooden huts, with open doorways and half walls on three sides. They were hung with pine branches and lights, lit from inside so shoppers could see all their wares. Her mouth watered at the hot dogs and pretzels, the cheese displays, the German waffles, and the Christmas pastries from Sugar and Spice. Emily waved at them, but her little booth was mobbed, so Kate and Lyndsay kept walking. Besides Tony's Tavern's hot spiced wine, they could have specialty coffees and hot chocolate, even a great selection of international beers. Every Christmas tree decoration was available, from home-made knitted crafts to European glass ornaments, along with specialty gifts. There was a booth where kids could make their own Christmas ornaments.

Kate couldn't help shaking her head in wonder as they strolled the aisles. “This is just beautiful! And the aroma . . .”

“I know, my mouth is watering. I need a hot dog.”

“I might try the German waffles—they even had pesto-flavored with sour cream.”

While they ate and wandered, teenagers either said hi to Lyndsay or went out of their way to avoid her. The college-age kids stopped her to catch up.

“Hazards of the job,” Lyndsay said at one point. “You can't take the rejection seriously, because there's a lot of rejection at this age.”

“I don't get it. I liked my teachers.”

“Oh, believe me, I always like teacher's pets like you.”

Kate laughed, even as she licked sour cream off her thumb. “Yeah, I was a good girl—but you weren't much different.”

“I might have been good, but I didn't get the grades you did.”

Kate frowned. “I was a little obsessed.”

“Well, it got you a free ride to college, didn't it?”

Kate shrugged. “I guess you're right. Shall we do some Christmas shopping?”

They passed another hour at the Christmas market, until both were loaded down with bags. The snow had begun to fall a little more steadily, and Kate couldn't feel her nose anymore. Her big furry boots were keeping her feet warm, but Lyndsay admitted her leather boots were falling down on the job.

“Mind if we stop at Espresso Yourself?” Kate asked. “I'd love to just sit and talk.”

Lyndsay nodded, although she did look curious. “Surprised you don't want to go to Sugar and Spice. You know everyone who works there.”

“And that's the reason I can't go there tonight. I promise I'll explain.”

At the coffee shop on Main Street, there was a wall of specialty coffees on display like knickknacks, lots of overstuffed chairs and booths, and a long counter where you could order even as you looked at mouthwatering donuts, pastries, and cookies.

“The owner, Suzie, buys hers from the Sweetheart Inn,” Lyndsay whispered as they sat down to wait for their order. “I think Sugar and Spice is better, but they can hardly use the competition's pastries, right?”

When their order came, they held their hot mugs in their cold hands and breathed in the steam. Kate looked hesitantly at her once-best friend, and suddenly the need to talk seemed to spill out of her.

“Lyndsay, I hate to bother you with this, but I could really use some advice.”

Lyndsay stared at her a bit apprehensively. “It doesn't have to do with Tony, does it?”

Kate chuckled. “No, and maybe now you see why I didn't ask your advice before.”

“Well, maybe. Is it Ethan?”

“No, it's my law firm, and the reason I'm on sabbatical.”

Lyndsay straightened up. “I'm certainly interested. I don't know if I can help, but I think I can be objective.”

“And that's just what I need. Can you keep this private as well? I shouldn't even be talking to you about it, but I'm feeling pretty frustrated, and I don't know what else to do.”

“Of course I'll keep this between us.”

Kate let out her breath. “Thanks. I hope you don't mind if I seem to rattle on. It's a complicated situation, and well, ask questions anytime you want.”

“Okay, fire away.” Lyndsay took another sip of her latte and looked at Kate with a serious expression.

“So . . . I've been representing a biochemical engineering company. They're trying to get a new cattle growth hormone—we'll just call it Hormone X—approved by the FDA. I handle the legal aspects, submitting applications for them, etc. Well, I discovered an undated report that the company obviously hadn't meant to include. It referenced a cattle growth hormone but didn't specifically say it was related to Hormone X. Apparently it's been known in very rare cases to cause humans to have flu symptoms just by eating the beef from the treated cow.”

Lyndsay wrinkled her nose. “That sounds bad.”

“I know. But again, the important part, according to the senior partners, is that it's not labeled as Hormone X. If it had been, then this side effect would have had to be disclosed to the FDA. It could cost my client a hundred million if denied. Having to go back to the drawing board on research could cost almost as much, and they might still be denied. I have to be so careful here. If something will injure the public, I have an ethical duty to investigate.
But
, and this is the big
but
, the report didn't say it was about Hormone X, so according to the two senior partners I'm working with, I have no duty to ask for additional info, or even to include it in the packet I send to the FDA. We're just supposed to assume it's for another project still in the research phase.”

“So you discussed this with the senior partners,” Lyndsay said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.

“You would be right. I really want to ask my client to clarify the report, but the partners don't want to piss off a good client or scare away any others if this got out. So . . . I kept bringing it up.”

Lyndsay winced. “And got yourself a nice long sabbatical.”

“They want me to ‘get my priorities straight,'” she said, using air quotes. “They told my clients I'm on leave for family reasons—they don't want clients thinking the firm is unstable. But I know my priorities. If I broke attorney-client privilege, I'd lose my license. I don't want to do that. I just want to ask our client about the report. This whole mess has really scared me. Everything I've worked for could go up in smoke. I love the law, Lynds, but part of why I chose a big-city firm was because I knew it would support Ethan no matter what happened, give him the best chance at a great life. I sacrificed so much that I even ended up sacrificing time with my son—only to find out I'm not trusted? I don't even know if it's worth it anymore.”

Lyndsay reached across the table and touched her arm. “I'm sorry.”

“No, please don't be. I made my choices—including this client. I know they're ambitious and driven—they're good at what they do. In some ways, it's like looking in a mirror,” she added with a wince. “And not in a good way.”

“No point putting yourself down,” Lyndsay said. “You're trying to figure out the right thing to do here.”

“And that's my dilemma. Any suggestions?”

Lyndsay took a sip of her latte, brows lowered in concentration. “Well . . . can you do any digging on your own, to put your mind at rest about your client? I don't know how long you've been working for them, but maybe there's some internet research you can do, to see if there's stuff way in their past, something like a pattern, you know?”

“Hmm,” Kate said, stirring her coffee absently. “I did a lot of research when I first worked for them, but maybe I should go farther into the deep, dark past. Just because I didn't come across any issues doesn't mean they're not buried somewhere. Lyndsay, thanks for the reminder.”

“And then, if you find they made a habit of getting in trouble, you make a decision about what to do. But at least you'd have history to back you up.”

“Okay, I'll do it. Thank you!” Kate took a sip of her coffee, then grinned. “Speaking of something buried in the past, I found my trombone in a closet.”

“A blast from the past. I still play the trumpet, you know.”

“You're kidding! That's great.”

“Yeah, I get together with some people and play sometimes. You should come.”

The invitation made Kate's eyes sting, and she blinked rapidly. “Thanks, I'd really like that—even though I'm woefully out of practice.” She cleared her throat. “Do you still write? I remember reading your stuff in high school.”

Lyndsay actually blushed. “Yeah, but don't tell anyone. I've had some rejections, and I think about self-publishing, but I haven't tried that either.”

“Can I read some of it?” Kate asked eagerly.

“No! I would feel ridiculous.”

“Oh, come on! Wasn't I your editor in high school?”

Lyndsay laughed. “Yeah, well, I was a lot braver then.” She sighed. “Someday, maybe.”

And they smiled at each other.

I
n between work shifts over the weekend, Kate saw a few houses with Howie Deering, then took Ethan through her top two and let him help make the decision. They chose a little Cape Cod on Sixth Street, only a couple blocks from Tony's, which would make it easier for Ethan to go back and forth. The second floor was right beneath the steep roof, and since it had a bathroom, Ethan called the whole second floor his own.

Kate loved that even the linens were provided in the fully equipped house. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were all an open floor plan, with dark wood floors and scattered rugs. The paintings on the wall were all of the Roaring Fork Valley, representing every season. The fireplace had a gas starter, and she anticipated evenings spent on the cream-colored sofa, staring into that fire. Maybe if she tried hard enough, this really could be a relaxing vacation for her—when she wasn't researching GAC Biochemical or working at Tony's. Okay, maybe she was only capable of so much relaxing.

“All you need to do is buy groceries, Mom,” Ethan said, looking into the fridge. “They've already got ketchup, mustard, mayo . . .”

Kate laughed. “Is this a hint that you're hungry?”

“No,” he said innocently, “just letting you know. When are you moving in?”

“Mr. Deering says I can move in today. I've already packed my luggage. Let's go get it.”

It was Sunday evening, and Christina had invited her sons over for dinner, as if Kate had been moving out of their home for the first time. Kate took a lot of ribbing about working at Tony's instead of Carmina's, and she knew Walt was more serious than teasing, but she did her best to take the jokes with good humor. By the time her brothers left, she was really ready to be in her own place and relax.