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CHAPTER I
"DON’T WORRY, folks." Puffing steam clouds, the elderly stable man draped
a heavy robe over the sleigh passengers. "You can’t miss the house, and
old Chanda won’t let you get lost. He knows the way home to his oats like
the back of his hoof."
"Then all I have to do is keep the reins out
of the snow." A smile of relief softened the long, angular planes of Rey
Brodie’s face. "I think I can handle that."
Beside him Kama Roxbury grinned, amused by
her associate’s hint of insecurity. In the six months since she’d joined
Morrow, Morrow, Emerson and Padgett, or The Firm, Rey’s classy aura of
confidence had given her the impression he could handle anything. Of course
he’d been practicing law for years, whereas she was still a fledgling.
The stable man pointed to a set of tracks
leading across the otherwise unmarked white Vermont countryside. "Just
follow that trail. Chanda will take you where you need to go." Adding,
"Off you go," he slapped the polished rump of the impatient bay horse.
Obviously eager for the warmth of motion,
Chanda tossed his head and pawed the snow. Rey cautiously loosened his
grip on the reins. Gathering himself, the horse leaned into his jangling
harness and stepped forward, gracefully picking up his stride to a leggy
trot. The runners of the little sleigh squeaked over dry virgin snow as
they sailed from the inn yard toward a faintly indented lane in a field
to the east.
Sleigh bells sprinkled the frosty morning
with the music of centuries gone by. A redbird swooped across their path
and disappeared. Enchanted, Kama clasped her hands in her lap and squinted
into the bright sunshine. It had been cloudy when they left Montpelier
yesterday, and neither she nor Rey had thought to pack sunglasses for their
overnight trip to The Granite Fork inn. They’d spent the afternoon
and evening taking depositions from the inn employees, bolstering the owner’s
defense against an exorbitant claim for damages by a former guest. The
plane back to Montpelier didn’t leave till mid-afternoon, and the inn owner,
Jerry Baxter, had offered them the sleigh to view a neighboring farm house,
extravagantly decorated for the holidays.
If she’d known about The Granite Fork
months ago, Kama would’ve made reservations to stay here over Christmas.
Since purchasing her Grand Cherokee she couldn’t justify the airfare for
a two-day visit to her family in San Diego. No one had warned her that
if you wanted to leave the curb in a Vermont winter, you’d better be driving
a SUV.
"Dollar for your thoughts," Rey said. "Can’t
get the good stuff for a penny anymore."
Before she could reply one of the runners
hit a snow-covered rock, bouncing the sleigh and its passengers high, then
tilting precariously before righting itself.
Rey drew on the reins. "Why the hell did I
let myself get talked into this?" he muttered. "Chanda, watch where you’re
going!"
Forced to slow his gait, Chanda tossed his
head, clearly contemptuous of being held in by such amateurish hands.
They’d been in no danger, and Kama couldn’t
help needling her driver. "I’ve never known you to tremble at a challenge,"
she said slyly. "Here you’ve dragged me along on a job that’s virtually
a paid vacation. And just last week I heard you volunteered to research
a work comp claim involving a topless bartender."
A tight grin lifted the corner of Rey’s profiled
mouth, although he kept his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. "You seem well
informed. Are you also aware of an action that could lead to the discovery
of a certain female attorney after the spring thaw?"
"Hmmm...considering how far we are from the
inn, I suppose I could let myself be a little intimidated."
"Good," he said, smirking. "I like a woman
who knows her place."
"Just you wait, ‘enry ‘iggins," she retorted,
and took a deep sniff of the December air. Well below freezing, it was
more than invigorating, and Chanda’s brisk pace sent it zinging over her
nose and cheeks. The sun, brilliant in a pristine blue sky, supplied no
appreciable warmth. She tucked the robe closer about her hips and snuggled
deeper into her down filled parka..
Smoke rose from the chimneys of farmhouses
in the distance and fence posts outlined the fields, but the only ‘human’
sign was the trail—a trough, actually—that disappeared and reappeared in
the rolling foothills of the Green Mountains.
Rey’s growing confidence in his horsemanship
soon permitted him to relax the reins and allow the spirited Chanda to
set his own pace. "It looks," he said with a self-mocking smile, "as if
I’m a natural horseman."
"That’s a centaur."
"Smart a—" he caught himself "—as a whip today,
aren’t you?"
She laughed and indicated Chanda, "Anyway,
I’m glad one of us is experienced. I just hope it’s enough to keep us out
of the drifts." The snow was considerably deeper here in the valleys of
the undulating fields than in the more level areas near the inn.
"If you hadn’t suggested a run in this white
stuff," Rey offered, "we could be lazing in a warm lounge now, waiting
for lunch."
"And miss this calendar-picture opportunity?"
"I guess not," he admitted. "It’s my martyr
act, perfected as a kid brother of a rampaging jock. Although," he continued
smoothly, "a tumble in the snow might be stimulating. What’d ya think?"
"I think big brother’s tutoring wasn’t wasted."
She grinning; she missed such bantering with her brothers. "You could be
right, depending on the depth of the drift, and Chanda’s discretion."
"Huh. You’ve hidden that wantonness well since
invading The Firm."
"Wrong. I’m just a tomboy at heart."
"Sure. I remember you in a red suit and lace
blouse at the Padgett Thanksgiving bash. ‘Tomboy’ isn’t a word that comes
to mind."
Warmth rushed to Kama’s cold cheeks. "Was
it too much? From a man’s point of view?"
"Not for me!" Rey switched the reins to his
left hand and patted the robe in the vicinity of her knee with his right.
"And the only comments I heard were complimentary, so you can stop twitching."
If only it were that easy!
"You men are lucky. All you have to do is
shower and put on a dark suit. It’s tricky for a woman, especially when
it’s her first big event at the home of one of the partners. I wasn’t sure
whom to ask—" she’d almost said ‘trust,’ "—for advice."
Then, dismayed that she’d revealed so much,
she fell silent. No matter how many layers of sophistication she acquired
in the future, would she ever overcome the social insecurity founded in
her childhood? While observant and quick to learn, she’d sprung from a
blue collar family, and in this one respect, she envied those to the manor
born.
Neither she nor Rey spoke for several minutes,
and aside from the jingling and huffing sounds of Chanda and the whispering
runners, the quiet was absolute. They might’ve been skimming across the
surface of an uninhabited frozen planet.
Kama’s anxious question and comment surprised Rey. Since she’d joined The Firm, fresh out of law school and concentrating
on real estate, she’d appeared cool and poised, except for a rare glimpse
of tart humor. Complimented that she felt comfortable enough with him to
show another facet of herself, he sneaked a sideways peek at her. Under
different circumstances, he’d wouldn’t mind exploring some of Ms Roxbury’s
other facets.
Her wide, light gray eyes reminded him of
smoke against a winter-white sky, not always revealing what was happening
behind them. The ability to mask one’s thoughts was a requisite in their
profession, but was her talent for it inborn, or acquired? As if to rebut
such mystery, her short dark curls escaping from her hood had the fresh,
springy naturalness of a gamin. Which was fine with him; whoever’d invented
hair spray ought to be permanently lacquered.
He sighed, almost sensing her curvy lips blossoming
beneath his own. If it weren’t for The Firm’s ironclad prohibition against
intra-fraternization, he’d use this intimate setting to probe that elegant
reserve.
Instead he pulled his knit cap lower on his
forehead and said, "Are you warm enough?"
"Yes, but just barely. Is it my imagination,
or is it getting colder?"
He lifted his arm in unspoken invitation.
She moved closer, and he dropped it about her shoulders.
"It’s a good thing no one from The Firm can
see us," she said. "But my thirtieth birthday is tomorrow, and right now
I appreciate a little gallantry."
It was true, she dreaded crossing the decade
line. Even though the silly, sexist idea of spinsterhood didn't exist anymore,
except in archaic legalese, her very traditional family never let her forget
that while she might be getting better, she was also getting older. As
if her brothers hadn’t already supplied their parents with enough grandchildren
to raise several roofs!
"You’ll get used to it," Rey said. "Remember
when you visited The Firm last spring, some ghoul hid false teeth in my
hoagie? That was my thirtieth, but my starchy upper lip never quivered."
"What about the tears I saw in your eyes?"
"I told you—" Rey slapped the reins lightly
against Chanda’s rump for effect, "I was allergic to the new hand soap."
"I’ll remember that if the hoagie monster
strikes again." She settled her cheek into the amiable space between Rey’s
smooth-shaven jaw and the collar of his duffel coat. "Umm, this old-fashioned
bundling is nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much leisure
in one lump sum."
"Yep. We’ll never make our first million with
this kind of sloth."
It really was turning colder. Kama wriggled
closer. Sniffling, she fished in her pocket for tissues and passed one
to Rey.
Through her lashes she studied his lean, regular
features. It was a civilized face, neither outstanding nor bland. His dark,
level eyebrows and straight lashes shadowed eyes the color of twilight.
She’d seen them sparkle with fun, and also turn cold as Vermont granite
when impaling a hostile corporate witness. On the surface at least, his
personality was a complex blend of courtesy, rationality, humor and latent
warmth. From a professional standpoint, she’d add relentless pragmatism
to the mix.
Smiling, she closed her eyes in momentary
speculation. What would happen if she tried vamping him out here in this
frozen wonderland, under the vast blue sky and a wool robe smelling faintly
of horse?
It was pure fantasy, of course. They’d both
worked too hard to gain a toehold in the highly regarded and conservative
old law firm of MMEP to consider jeopardizing their futures there.
Something wet touched her lashes. She opened
her eyes and looked up. A minute before the sun had dazzled them. Now it
was snowing! With childlike delight she held out her gloved hand to catch
and admire the lacy flakes that fluttered on it and then disappeared.
"I don’t know where it came from," Rey said,
sounding puzzled, "but we’d better turn back." He flicked the reins and
clucked to Chanda. "All of the sudden the sky is full of it."
Apparently mindful of the oaten reward waiting
for him in his stable, Chanda swung about and began retracing his steps.
The snowfall thickened rapidly. Huge flakes
almost touched one another as they drifted downward, shortening visibility
to an island-like orb. With no wind to drive them, the aimless flakes soon
coated the sleigh and its occupants with a feathery blanket. Head high
and nostrils flaring, the unimpressed Chanda trotted along smartly without
guidance.
Kama said, "I’d be nervous if we didn’t have
such a confident horse."
"Me too," Rey said. "If this keeps up, we
may find ourselves snowed in at the inn. It’ll be your fault too. You said
you wished you could spend Christmas there."
She laughed, a little edgy. "Like they say,
be careful what you ask for—"’
"What’ll we do with the time? Skin diving
and hang gliding are out. You have any games on your laptop?"
"Just Solitaire." And a romance novel.
She shivered. "I’m freezing. I want a fast warm-up when we get back."
"Oh?"
"Cognac," she said, primly straightening and
brushing snow from her lashes.
Solitaire and cognac, eh? Rey suppressed
a grin. The slender Ms Roxbury was no pushover. He’d seen her confident,
no-nonsense air intimidate more than one chauvinist. And while he wasn’t
in a mood for rejection, he’d watch, and wait. Passion didn’t necessarily
arrive in a buxom, easy-to-open package. Sometimes it took a little steaming.
"Lights!" she cried, and pointed at two tiny
yellow rectangles glimmering through the snowfall. "That must be the inn."
"No—" Rey peered ahead "see the buildings
on either side? It looks like a village. Chanda is aiming for it, though,
and since I can’t see the trail, there’s not much choice. At least we can
get directions."
Ears pricked, Chanda trotted past half a dozen
two-story clapboard structures, circling an open area that had to be a
village green, to halt in front of the only building with lighted windows.
A modest sign, ‘Tavern’, hung from an iron frame above the door.
Kama leaned forward for a clearer look and
shielded her eyes from the snow. "Well, isn’t this quaint! I don’t remember
seeing a town close to The Granite Fork on our map, do you?"
Frowning, Rey climbed out of the sleigh. He
stroked Chanda’s warm flank as he passed, an odd uneasiness akin to wariness
slowing his steps as he looped the reins over the wooden rail, then walked
around to assist Kama. She descended lightly into his arms, and for a few
seconds he sheltered her there. Not many things in life were certain, but
whenever possible he was accustomed to choosing his own surroundings. This
strange tavern wasn’t one of them.
Finally he said, "Well, like they say, any
port in a storm." Taking Kama by the hand, he led her up the snowy steps
to the tavern door, depressed its iron latch, and shoved. The heavy wooden
door swung inward on quiet hinges.
Kama stepped into the dimly lighted room ahead
of him, pushed back her hood—and froze.
Rey closed the door behind them, started to
stamp his boots on the bare wooden floor—and halted in mid-stamp.
A short, plump matron in a long gray dress,
frizzles of gray hair eluding her white baby-bonnet cap, looked up from
her serving task at one of four long tables in the room. At first she hesitated,
then, her round face breaking into a beaming smile, she wiped her reddened
hands on her white bib apron and rushed toward them.
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