Solomon's Decision (11 page)

"You don't understand, Erik. There aren't any civic organizations that hold
luncheon meetings. Not in Sunset County."

"Okay, then, how about evening programs?"

"The Legion and the Odd Fellows meet at night. Talk to Lester. He belongs to
both." She wanted to laugh at his incredulous expression.

"And the others? What were they? The Sunset Boosters and the Wednesday Club?
What's that?"

"The Boosters are our local version of a Chamber of Commerce. And the
Wednesday Club is a women's club that...."

"Oh, never mind then," he interrupted. "They wouldn't be interested."

If that wasn't just like a man! She would have expected a comment like his from
most men unfamiliar with what the Wednesday Club accomplished, but not from Erik.
Surely he wasn't a chauvinist.

"The Wednesday Club," she said, putting a touch of frost in her tone, "is the most
active, largest civic organization in the county. It raises thousands of dollars a year for
children's and senior citizens' benefits, helps support both Garnet Falls City Park and Pine
Hills County Park, contributes to the junior soccer league, the county library, and the
immediate care clinic, and awards two college scholarships a year to deserving county
students. We are not
just
a social club."

"'We?' Does that mean you're a member?"

"Almost every woman in Sunset County belongs, although some aren't active.
Besides being a lot of fun, it's sort of a civic duty." She had joined the Wednesday Club
when she was sixteen, along with her two best friends. How grown-up they'd felt, and how
important, when they were chosen to work on the carnival committee for that year's Fourth
of July Social.

And now she was co-chair of the whole Social. She was still proud!

"I didn't mean to belittle it," Erik said, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace.
"It's just that I haven't had very good luck getting women's social clubs involved in
environmental protection."

She sniffed. "If you tried to tell them you were out to save the world, I'm not
surprised. We had a speaker from some environmental cause or other in to talk to us a
couple of years ago. He made saving the environment sound noble and important, but he
didn't show us how it would affect us directly."

"I'd planned to talk about how rapidly we're losing wetlands everywhere, and how
valuable they are as wildlife habitat."

"And women in Sunset County are supposed to care about that? Give me a break,
Erik. Most of these women are related or married to loggers and ranchers. They've seen
how endangered species have cost jobs in Oregon, how the environmental movement
threatens the federal grazing lands they depend on to make a living." Madeline leaned back
in her chair and nibbled on the tip of her forefinger. "What you need is something to make
them realize what a unique resource Wounded Bear Meadow is. And how keeping it
unspoiled will make their lives better."

"Usually it's the birds and bunnies people relate to," he said. With one leg laid
across the other and the old chair tilted slightly back, he looked perfectly at home in her
office.

"Country people?"

He shrugged. "I generally talk to civic groups and professional organizations. I've
not been closely involved in drumming up local support for one of our preserves
before."

She wondered why he was doing it this time, but didn't feel it was her place to ask.
"If you're looking for money, I don't think you'll find much here. There's not a lot of
industry in Sunset County beyond timber and cattle, and neither one is making anyone rich
these days."

"I was thinking more in terms of local people putting pressure on county and state
government to preserve the meadow."

She chuckled. "I hate to tell you this, Erik, but local government in Sunset County
is the County Commissioners. Garnet Falls is the only incorporated city in the county, and
all we have is a part-time mayor, me, and a city clerk. Not even a police force. Wally
Blanchett, the county sheriff, takes care of town, too."

He was silent for a time. Finally he unwound himself from the chair. "Local
support is important, even if all the funding comes from outside an area. I still think I
ought to speak to as many of the residents of Sunset County as I can."

"Just be as convincing as you were in Seattle," she said, remembering how
charismatic a speaker he was, "and you'll have them willing to follow you anywhere."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could swallow them.
Erik's brows raised and his lips quirked into a half smile.

"Oh?" He stared at her for the longest time, until Madeline was sure her face was
as bright as a ripe, red apple. His voice changed, took on a smoky, seductive quality. "And
how about you, Madeline? Would you follow me anywhere, too?"

She shook her head vigorously and looked down at her desk. "Go away, Erik. I've
got work to do."

After a little while, he went. But it was a long while before she remembered what
she'd been doing when he came in.

That Friday noon Erik was waiting for her at the bottom of the courthouse steps.
Madeline commanded her foolish heart to cease its excited flutter. Hadn't she decided that
he was hazardous to her emotional health?

"Are you going home for lunch?" He fell into step beside her.

"No, I'm meeting Amelia at the Bon Ton." She hoped she sounded purposeful and
hurried. Surely he'd think her fast walk was the cause of her breathlessness.

"I'd like to see you, Madeline. Sometime when you're not too busy." The echo of
her words sounded in his.

Had she remembered to bring the folder of committee work plans? She stopped in
the middle of the sidewalk and flipped though the stack of files she was carrying. Yes,
there it was, but where was the...? Oh. There. She became aware that he was looming over
her, waiting for a response. "That'll be sometime in July," she said. "After the Social."
Wondering why she'd ever volunteered to co-chair the darn thing, she pulled the screen
door of the Bon Ton Cafe open. "Why don't you give me a call then." She slipped inside,
leaving him standing on the sidewalk.

There. She'd handled that situation. Short of telling him to take a hike, she didn't
think she could have been any more clear about not wanting to spend time with him.

If only she could convince herself.

"Afternoon, Linnie." Lester's gravely basso came out of the dark hallway
separating the Bon Ton from the Wooden Nickel as she slipped into the back booth.
"Amelia'll be there in a shake. You want some coffee?"

"Iced tea, I think, Lester. D'you suppose summer's here to stay?" The sun hit her
office around eleven this time of year, turning it into an oven despite the valiant efforts of a
window air conditioner.

The young waitress set a lemon-trimmed mug before her just as Amelia came
through the passage from the bar.

"I seem to have fallen behind on my bookkeeping," she said, setting a fat, untidy
file folder on the table between them. "I thought perhaps you could check over these few
invoices, since your children aren't home and all." She pushed the folder across the table,
almost knocking Madeline's iced tea over in the process. "Just initial them, once you're
sure they're correct, and drop them by the treasurer's on your way home."

"A few invoices!" From the looks of the folder, none of the expenses they'd
incurred since starting to work on this year's Social had been paid. "Amelia, in case you
haven't noticed, I do have a job. One that the County Commissioners," she said, with a
pointed look across the table at one of said commissioners, "expect me to devote eight
hours a day to."

"I know that, hon, but I just thought you could do these during your lunch hour or
something."

It was time to take a stand. "Amelia, I will not donate my every waking minute to
the Social. Since you don't have time to do what you volunteered to do, I suggest you find
someone who will." She would let herself be taken advantage of to a point, but Amelia had
long since passed that point.

"As a matter of fact, I'd had the same idea myself. I know you're overworked, and
I thought I should find you an assistant. When I mentioned it last night at the Wooden
Nickel, several people volunteered."

Madeline could just imagine who they were. She knew most of the
habitués of the town's most popular tavern, and she didn't think any of them would
make much of an assistant for her. "Uh, Amelia," she began, "I don't think...."

"He should be here any minute," the older woman said, looking at her watch. "I
told him we'd be lunching together and he said he'd join us for dessert, so we could get our
business out of the way first."

Madeline groaned. In the first place, their business usually consisted of Amelia
issuing directives, making excuses for tasks not completed, or complaining about
committee members who weren't doing their jobs to her liking. In the second place,
Madeline needed an assistant like she needed a flat tire on her car.

"Afternoon, ladies," a deep, familiar voice said, just behind her. "Am I on
time?"

"You are, Erik," Amelia said, "and welcome, too. Linnie was just saying how
much she appreciated your volunteering to help her for the next few weeks."

Madeline felt her mouth drop open, and knew she was gaping like a fish out of
water. Before she could say anything, Erik had slid into the booth beside her, trapping her
between himself and the wall.

"My pleasure," he said, smiling at her. "I'm yours to command, so just tell me
what you want from me."

Oh, God! If only his eyes didn't hold such promises. If only his voice didn't send
shivers up her spine and raise the hairs at her nape. If only she could want just his help on
the Social, instead of all of him. She wondered just how long her fine resolutions would
stay intact.

She was through lying to herself. She wanted Erik with a deep and abiding hunger.
And she wanted him forever.

"Well, if you two young people will excuse me, I have some errands to run. After
all, I can't let Madeline do all the work for the Social, now can I?" Amelia picked up the
check and slipped from her side of the booth. She waggled her fingers at them as she
walked away. Again Madeline was speechless.

"Well, Madeline?" Erik said after watching Amelia leave with a broad grin on his
face.

She turned to look at him. He seemed to be waiting for something. "Well
what?"

"What would you like me to do for you?" His grin showed he understood every
implication of his words.

"I...ah...I haven't got time to tell you now," she stammered. "I've got to get back to
work."

"This evening, them." He shook his head. "No, that won't work. I'm speaking to
the Odd Fellows. And tomorrow I'm catching a plane out of Boise at ten." He rubbed his
nape. "How about Monday?"

Madeline shook her head. "I'm busy. Make it Tuesday."

"Then it'll have to be right after work. Unless you can take the afternoon off?"

Feeling backed against the wall, Madeline bit her lip. He couldn't come to her
house. She wasn't ready to be alone with him again. "No. No, I can't do that." She heard the
thready whisper of her voice and cleared her throat. "Tuesday afternoon, then. In my
office. I'll have Lester send sandwiches over, and we can eat supper while we get
organized."

"Fine." Standing, he tossed some bills on the table, a far larger tip than a local
would have left. Madeline bet he was an extremely popular customer. "I'll walk you
back."

"You don't need to do that." She picked up her purse as she slid out of the booth. It
nearly slipped through her fingers and she gripped it tighter. "It's only across the highway.
I'll be perfectly safe."

His hand on her back burned through the light cotton of her blouse. "I know that.
I'll walk you back because I want to be with you, Madeline, not because I'm worried about
your safety."

"'Afternoon, Linnie," Lester said as she sped past his seat behind the cash register.
"Erik."

"Lester," Erik acknowledged, but he didn't hesitate. "Madeline, will you slow
down!"

She walked even faster once she was on the sidewalk. Only a pickup coming
down the road kept her from dashing across the street to the courthouse.

By the time she was at the corner, she was nearly trotting, but she had to wait for a
log truck to pass and Erik caught up with her.

"What the hell?" He grabbed her wrist as she started to cross. "Are you running
away from me?"

"I'm trying to," she said, pulling as hard as she could, but his grip was
unbreakable.

He didn't resist as she pulled him across the street, but he didn't release her either.
By the time they reached the courthouse steps, she felt like she was dragging a dead
weight, because he was making no effort to catch up with her.

"Way to go, Linnie," came a call from the open door of the cigar store. Two old
men, regular occupants of the courthouse benches, watched with bright, interested
eyes.

She realized she appeared to be dragging Erik behind her, against his will. Jerking
her arm once more, she finally was able to repossess her hand. "You...you stinker!" she
muttered, seeing his smile and reading his amusement at the situation. "You did that on
purpose, didn't you?"

"Did what on purpose? Me?" His smile would have done one of Botticelli's
cherubs justice.

She glared at him. "Made a fool of me." Furious, but more at herself for falling
into his trap than at him, she ran up the fifteen steps to the courthouse door.

Safely in her office, she sank into her chair and breathed deeply. She was all but
breathless, her legs were weak, and her heart was pounding.

Darn that Amelia, anyway. If she hadn't intended to do her share of the chair's
duties, why'd she volunteer, anyhow? Candy Lindholm had been willing, but Amelia had
talked her out of taking on the responsibility for the second year in a row.