Solomon's Decision (4 page)

At times like this, she knew she was getting old. Either that or Eddie was very
young. "What's so special about him?" She wanted to chuckle. Her intern was standing
with his back to the door, as if he were barricading it against ravaging hordes.

"He spoke to my environmental planning class last year. I've never forgotten how
he stressed the importance of wetlands and how the local planner is their first line of
defense." Eddie looked as if he were ready to die in the trenches. "He said wetlands are an
invaluable global resource and if the human race lets them be destroyed, it'll be signing its
own death warrant." His tone was definitely awed.

Madeline had heard someone say those same words, once.

Impatiently she checked her watch. "I guess you'd better bring him in, Eddie. The
Chairman won't be here for another fifteen minutes and we can't let a VIP cool his heels in
the corridor that long."

"Can I stay? Please?"

Oh, dear. Eddie was suffering a king-sized case of hero worship. She wouldn't get
any work out of him for days. On the other hand, why couldn't he entertain his hero and let
her get a little more done on her budget plan? "Take him across the street," she said,
digging out a five dollar bill, "and feed him a piece of Lester's pie. Just have him back here
in twenty minutes."

Twenty-five minutes later, Madeline was wishing she'd invited the VIP into her
office. At least she would have had him here on time, in the courtroom where the County
Commissioners met. Then the door opened and she was glad she hadn't.

She simply stood dumb while Eddie introduced Dr. Erik Solomon to the
commissioners. When it was her turn to greet him, he interrupted Eddie by saying, "Ms.
Pierson and I are old friends, aren't we, Madeline?"

Eddie's mouth dropped open, but his surprise was nothing compared to hers. She
did manage to smile as she shook Erik's hand. What she wanted to do was run screaming.
Even after so long, his touch still softened her backbone, leaving her quiveringly ready to
do anything he asked of her.

"Old friends?" she managed to say. "Yes, I guess you could say that. How are you,
Dr. Solomon?"

This man had taught her that she was still alive, that she hadn't died with Jesse.
Although the healing had taken a long time, her brief and shocking encounter with him had
been the strong medicine she'd needed to start the process. He'd given her memories to last
through the rest of her life, as well as a terminal case of embarrassment.

Yes, she guessed they were old friends.

She paid little attention to the content of his meeting with the commissioners,
except to notice that Charlie Bittenbusch wasn't buying whatever Erik Solomon was
selling. The others were reserving judgment, as they should. Even she wasn't convinced
that Wounded Bear Meadow would be better managed by NWT, although she understood
and agreed with wetlands protection in general.

Five years of college hadn't overcome her ingrained belief that a man's land was
his to do with as he chose. That was one reason she'd stayed in Sunset County, refusing
offers for better-paying jobs. She'd grown up here, and she felt she understood better than
an outsider the philosophy and character of people who lived and worked in the high
country. It took a special kind of human being, one who didn't take kindly to rules and
regulations. Being a planner here was a challenge, because zoning was a foreign concept to
most of the residents.

It would be up to Erik to convince the commissioners that Wounded Bear
Meadow should be preserved. The concept of land stewardship for preservation of natural
resources wasn't new, but it hadn't been seen before in Sunset County. According to many
planners, such environmental preserves were in some ways better than having the state or
federal government set land aside. There were several Nature Conservancy preserves in
Idaho, and one NWT wetland. Wounded Bear Meadow could be the first national
Wetlands Trust property south of the Salmon River.

If Erik managed to make the deal. Jethro Zenger was willing to preserve the
meadow, but he'd already said he wasn't going to give it away. He'd never put up with a lot
of red tape.

She shifted restlessly in her chair. Erik was telling Commission Chairman Harry
Lindholm that he was planning on spending several weeks in Sunset County, making sure
Wounded Bear Meadow was actually worth consideration by NWT. There was no doubt in
her mind that his investigations would require her help and cooperation. Would she be able
to carry the situation off with élan, or would he reduce her to a quivering mass of
desire with only a touch and a single word?

She'd like to believe the former. She feared the latter.

Erik watched her across the courtroom. If her body language was to be believed,
she was uncomfortable as hell. Good, because he wasn't any too relaxed himself.

It had been more difficult than he'd imagined, and he didn't understand why. He'd
met former lovers before and the worst that had happened was a momentary twinge of
embarrassment.

Now that the meeting was about wound up, he hoped to catch her. They had to
talk. He wasn't going to spend weeks--perhaps even months--here in Garnet Falls, tiptoeing
around her just because she was self-conscious about having slept with him.

He rose with the others, stretching his arms behind him to work out some of the
stiffness of a long air flight, a drive almost as long, and an interminable meeting. An
unobtrusive glance at his watch told him it was after five.

"Well, Dr. Solomon, you just go on up there and take yourself a look. You'll see it
ain't nothing but a big ol' swamp. Me, I don't see why anybody'd want to do anything but
drain it."

My God! He'd just spent two hours explaining to them why wetlands were so
important, how they functioned and how few of them were left. Had this fellow been
asleep?

Harry Lindholm nudged Charlie Bitten...Bitten-something. "You just stop your
pushin', now, Charlie."

Erik had a hunch he knew where his biggest headaches were going to originate.
Charlie seemed to fancy himself an entrepreneur, and was all in favor of any kind of
development that would, as he'd repeated several times, "Put Sunset County on the map."
From what he said, that meant sidetracking rich tourists on their way elsewhere and luring
summer home owners to the area.

"Have you found lodgings yet, Dr. Solomon?" Short, weathered, and
gravely-voiced, Amelia Warren, the only woman commissioner, slipped between Charlie and
Harry.

He smiled. He had to, for Amelia was, for all her incongruous appearance, an old
fashioned lady. "No, ma'am, I haven't. I checked into the hotel, but I don't imagine I'll stay
there very long." The Conestoga House--he'd done a double take when he saw the
sign--was full of poorly done antique reproductions, glowed with red plush, and had the thinnest
walls he'd ever tried not to eavesdrop through.

"Come see me tomorrow, then. I've got a mobile home out by the creek..." She
pronounced it
crick
. "...and there's no need for it to sit there empty."

"Thank you." Erik was determined not to accept her offer. Renting from one of the
commissioners would not be politic. "I'll be in touch." He turned as the young planning
intern sought his attention.

God, but he was tired. Yesterday morning he'd been in Alaska, last night in D.C.,
and today's flight had been particularly tiring. He'd missed connections at Denver and his
Red Eye flight had turned into an early bird. Add to that an inability to sleep because his
mind had insisted on replaying scenes from a long ago time in Seattle--one of the more
incredible experiences of his life.

Harry finally cut off the discussion about quarter to six. "You know where to
reach me," he told Erik. "Just give me a call when you're ready to go out and see
Jethro."

"I'll want to take a quick look at the meadow first," Erik said, "to see if it's worth
discussing with Mr. Zenger." He stepped aside to let the local people leave before him. He
was in no hurry, for Madeline had disappeared into an office across the hall.

He stood alone just outside the double front doors until a slight figure slipped from
a door at ground level and started away from the courthouse. "Madeline, wait!" Erik went
down the steps two at a time.

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, but didn't turn to look at him. The brim
of her rain hat, shadowing her eyes and nose, made it difficult for him to read her
expression.

"We need to talk."

"Why?" Her face gave nothing away, neither her thoughts nor a second of her
time.

"Well, about, uh...." He faltered. "About us."

"Erik, there is no 'us.' There never was." Her mobile lips twisted in a grimace.
"There was only a one night stand." The grimace became a thoughtful smile. "A
memorable one, I'll admit."

"That's what I want to talk about, Madeline. I've never forgotten you." Well, that
was the truth, because no other woman had ever stayed in his memory the way she
had.

"Oh?"

"Well, you know what I mean." He felt as clumsy and inept as a sixteen-year-old
boy on his first date--with the Prom Queen.

"I don't see what good talking about what happened so long ago will do. I'd rather
begin again today and go on from here."

"But that's what I mean," he said, growing increasingly uncomfortable. Why
wouldn't she look him in the eye? "We can't let an old relationship interfere with our
working together. I could be here for quite a while and you're the county planner, and well,
we've got to be professional."

With the lowering sun at her back, her eyes were in shadow. "I think that's a good
idea, Erik. By all means, let us behave professionally." She turned and began walking
north.

"Hey, wait!" He caught up with her. "Can I buy you dinner?"

She kept walking, perhaps even sped up a bit.

He'd had enough. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to a stop. "Madeline, all I want
to do is visit with you for a while, not seduce you."

Standing before him, head bent and body tense, she muttered something, but he
only heard, "...already did that."

"Okay, now let's try it one more time. I'd like to take you out to dinner, Madeline.
Are you free?" Looking along Main Street he wondered where he'd take her if she
accepted. Garnet Falls wasn't exactly a gourmet diner's paradise.

"I have to go home." She silenced his automatic response with a gesture. "I've got
a previous commitment. Perhaps another time."

He heard the lie in her tone, but he wasn't going to let it stop him. He was a firm
believer in facing up to whatever made him uncomfortable. Madeline made him damned
uncomfortable. Feeling like a masochist, he said, "Sounds good. I'll look forward to
it."

"Fine. Now, I really do have to get home." She began walking.

Erik fell into step beside her, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after all the
sitting he'd done yesterday and today. "I'll walk you there." Given the bucolic atmosphere
of Garnet Falls, his rental car would be perfectly safe sitting in front of the courthouse all
evening. All night, for that fact.

They crossed a side street and were in front of the Conestoga House. Once again
he vowed to find other lodging. Next was the Baptist Church, an old stone structure
lovingly preserved. Across another side street, the Methodist Church was newer brick, but
just as well cared-for. They turned east then, and were immediately out of downtown. He
liked this town. It was just the right size.

"When did you leave the Fish and Wildlife Service?" Madeline's question broke
an increasingly comfortable silence. "Isn't that where you were working, when we...when
you came to the Seattle conference?"

She was looking straight ahead, head high and shoulders swaying with her brisk
walk. Her hands were in the pockets of her pale gray raincoat. The curve of her cheek,
faintly highlighted by the rosy sunset, was exquisite. Erik experienced a strong resurgence
of the compelling desire he'd felt at his first sight of her.

"I've been with the National Wetlands Trust for three years. Actually, I'm an
associate, rather than an employee. I also do some consulting."

"So you're a consultant?" She sounded--what? Disgusted? No, more like
scornful.

"You don't like consultants?" He wasn't surprised. He commonly ran into local
officials who'd had a few bad experiences with consultants who came in and demanded
instant cooperation. They gave the whole profession a bad name.

She shrugged. "We're here," she said, turning into a narrow, cracked sidewalk
under an ornate iron arch.

Erik wondered what color the climbing roses were. His grandmother had had a
rose arbor like that, before she died and the old place was sold to a developer. He hoped
they were pink. Pink and fragrant, filling the warm summer night with their provocative
scent. With luck, he'd still be here to see them bloom.

He waited while she unlocked the front door. The top half of it held an oval
window, etched with a floral wreath. He wondered why she bothered locking it. Any
self-respecting burglar would be inside in less time than it took her to turn the key.

She slipped inside and turned. "Thank you for walking me home, Erik. I'll see you
Monday."

Before he could find his tongue, the door closed in his face. He heard the dead bolt
slide into place with finality.

"And there's this great, big gold statue of a lady with wings but no arms, right
there in the middle of the round floor under the dome!"

Madeline listened with half an ear while she scrambled eggs. The twins were still
excited over their school field trip last week, bubbling over with the sights they'd seen in
Boise. "Um-hmmm," she responded to Ginger's next question, before she realized she
hadn't even heard it.

"Oh, wow! Can we really? And can Jace and Denny and Abby go too?" Kyle
bounced in his chair.