Heartache Falls Part 13

"The Trading Post is at the other end of town. Let's take the jeep."

At the grocery, Ali found Lori Reese manning the cash register and started to introduce the young woman to her husband, but Mac surprised her by saying, "Lori and I met last night. I was wandering around town looking for you and she clued me in on the fact that you had tickets to the play." To Lori, he said, "Thanks again for your help."

"Glad I knew the scoop," Lori replied.

"And I'm glad I finally had the pleasure of meeting you. I recall that Chase told me you want to be a veterinarian?"

"Yes, sir."

Mac and Lori discussed her freshman year at Texas A&M for a moment, then Ali asked, "Does your mom stock picnic baskets of any kind?"

"Yes, they're in the side room on the shelf beside the T-s.h.i.+rts."

"Excellent. We're driving the high country trail today, and we wanted to take something for lunch."

"The grapes are really good," Lori said. "We also got in a selection of cheeses you might look at."

"Thanks, sweetie." While Mac selected a bottle of wine, Ali filled her basket with fruit, cheese, crackers, and her husband's favorite guilty-pleasure junk food-Cheetos. Twenty minutes later they turned onto the narrow dirt road that took them up into the hills.

They didn't talk much while they drove, but they communicated plenty. Mac kept hold of Ali's hand, even when he s.h.i.+fted gears, and she thought back to college days, when he drove a secondhand Ford Crown Victoria that he'd been given by an older gentleman for whom he'd done yard work. Mac had been embarra.s.sed by the car, but Ali had loved it. The bench seat meant she could sit beside him on their dates. After the summer when he'd interned at the Chicago firm and finally made enough money to buy what he called a real car, the Mustang he'd chosen came with bucket seats. She'd lamented the loss of the Crown Vic and explained why. That's when he first held her hand while he s.h.i.+fted gears.

She'd never really noticed when he'd abandoned the practice. After they married? When they had children? She guessed it didn't really matter because it was, after all, a very teenage thing to do.

Yet she felt like a teenager again this morning. She felt renewed and rejuvenated and young.

She felt happy.

"I asked the guy at the outfitters to recommend a good fis.h.i.+ng spot along this drive," Mac said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his s.h.i.+rt pocket. "He gave me this-a place called Heartache Falls. Said it's the map they reserve for locals and that it's off the beaten path, but it's a beautiful spot beside a little lake just downstream from a little waterfall. If we don't mind hiking a little ways, we should have the place to ourselves. You up for a walk?"

"Absolutely." She studied the map, glad she'd worn her boots to the theater last night. "Heartache Falls. I've heard people talk about it, but it's not on any of the tourist maps. It'll be nice to get away from the crowd."

"You call this a crowd?"

"For Eternity Springs it is. I know how important it is for us to attract tourist dollars, and since it's the height of the season, I'm glad to see the town bustling. The majority of the businesses in town make the bulk of their profit for the entire year between June and August. I admit I enjoyed the sleepy days in town before the summer people arrived."

"The town was bustling last night. So, tell me about this Lost Angel mystery. I caught the last half of the play. How much of it is fact and how much is fiction?"

"More fiction than fact, definitely. We know that the human remains found in the cellar at Cavanaugh House along with a nineteenth-century wedding dress and thirty bars of silver was Daniel Murphy's lost Angel, his bride-to-be, Winifred Smith. Pretty much everything else was conjecture."

"I expected your killer to be the lantern-jawed gardener."

"That's our banker. He says playing the villain comes naturally to him. So were you shocked that the sweet Gertie Gallagher did the dirty deed?"

He grinned. "Yes, you definitely caught me by surprise on that one. I suspected her, then dismissed her as a red herring. It's an entertaining show. Poor old Daniel Murphy."

"He believed he lost his good luck when she disappeared."

Mac reached over and took her hand once again. "I can relate. So he drowned his sorrow in suds, lost his fortune, and had to sell his mountain, hmm? Which one is it, by the way?"

"Murphy Mountain?" Ali looked around, only just then realizing how high they had climbed above the valley that nestled Eternity Springs. "Oh, wow. Look at this view. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Rather than take in the scenery, he looked straight at her. "Absolutely."

Ali felt herself blush. She was thrilled at his attention-truly she was-and yet a part of her wondered where this attention had been for the past six months. Six years. In that moment, she experienced a stirring of unease.

Had anything changed? Anything at all?

Maybe yes, probably no. How could she know unless they talked at a level deeper than the surface? Except she didn't want to talk deeper. She was enjoying the surface. The sailing was smoother here. And smooth sailing was what she and her husband needed right now.

So stay on the surface. Let him flirt with you. Let him seduce you. Seduce him right back.

Ali believed that if they managed to fix the physical part of the marriage, that would go a long way toward fixing the other troublesome spots, too.

She studied Mac, who had finally turned to look at the vista beyond. Maybe that was what he thought, too. Maybe that was what had brought him to Eternity Springs yesterday and lay behind his request that they hold off talking about anything more serious than the Lost Angel mystery.

Considering how she'd spent last night, Ali had to give a thumbs-up to that plan.

She pointed toward the snowcapped mountain that rose to the east of them. "That's Murphy. It's owned by descendants of Lucien Davenport, the third member of the trio who made the Silver Miracle strike and founded Eternity Springs."

"Have you met any of them? Davenports or Murphys?"

Ali hesitated. Sarah and Lori had shared the truth about Lori's paternity with her in confidence. In the past, situations like this had been the subject of debate in her marriage. Ali's opinion had been that she didn't keep secrets from her husband, any secret, that though they were a couple, they were a unit. They were one. Sharing something with one of them meant sharing with both of them.

Mac, on the other hand, could teach the CIA about keeping secrets. To Mac, a confidence shared with him was simply that, period. He would no more share it with her than a priest would break the seal of the confessional. Ali had long nursed a resentment about his stance. Unfair, perhaps, but real.

This time, however, rather than share Lori's secret, she said, "No."

Then Ali said to herself, Surface. Surface.

She grabbed the map to the fis.h.i.+ng spot. "We should be getting close to the turnoff."

"All right. Help me watch for it."

Ten minutes later, she pointed toward a gate marked B&P. "There it is."

"B & P. Is that another area ranch?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard of it if it is."

Mac used the access code provided by the outfitters to open the gate, then Ali closed it behind them after Mac drove the jeep through. The road became little more than a rutted path winding its way downhill through a forest of fir, pine, and aspen. She watched for wildlife in the trees as they drove, hoping to spot elk or bighorn sheep. She'd just as soon not see any bears or mountain lions.

"The outfitters said to look for a pull-off shortly after we pa.s.s off private land into the national forest," Mac said. "We park there, then Heartache Falls is about a twenty-minute hike. You still up for it?"

"Absolutely. I have my heart set on trout for supper."

They located the turnoff, parked, and gathered their supplies. "There's the trailhead," Mac said. "You ready?"

"Lead on, Magellan."

Before they'd taken a dozen steps, a familiar voice called out, "h.e.l.lo, Ali!"

"Celeste?" Ali looked around in surprise.

Celeste Blessing stood behind them on the road, her Honda Gold Wing motorcycle at her side. It wasn't running. Ali said, "I didn't hear you ride up."

"I didn't ride. Not the past hundred yards or so. I'm afraid I failed to check my gas gauge when I started out this morning. I've run out of gas."

"Oh, no," Ali replied.

"Foolish of me, but maybe it was meant to happen so that I could run into you." Celeste beamed a smile at Mac. "You must be Mac. Ali speaks so highly of you. I'm Celeste Blessing."

While Mac stood there looking surprised, Ali introduced him to her friend. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm pleased to meet you, too, ma'am. I know Ali is excited about her work with the restaurant."

Now it was Ali's turn to be surprised. They hadn't discussed the restaurant much at all. The kids must have told him how much she loved the project. "Were you out on a ride enjoying this beautiful day like we are, Celeste?"

"Partly. I did take the long way here from town because it is such a lovely morning. However, I'm on my way to visit Bear and Patricia. He's our local mountain man, tour guide, and taxidermist. Have you seen his yurt, Ali?"

"No, I haven't."

"It's definitely something to see, and it's just up the road a little bit." She eyed the jeep, then glanced back at her motorcycle. "Could I trouble you two to give me a lift to Bear's place? I'm sure he'll have a gas can and fuel to share."

"That won't be any trouble at all," Mac a.s.sured her.

He pushed the bike safely off the road while Ali and Celeste took seats in the jeep. As Mac resumed the drive up the rutted dirt road, Ali made a connection. "The B and P on the gate. I'll bet that stands for Bear and Patricia."

"You're right," Celeste confirmed. "Bear owns a wonderful strip of property that meanders along the national forest boundary."

Ten minutes later, the older woman directed Mac onto a side road. When the jeep topped a rise, Ali spotted the yurt. It sat beside a picturesque creek and offered a spectacular view of three of Colorado's Fourteeners, mountains that rose to an alt.i.tude above fourteen thousand feet.

"What a view," Mac said, then added, "And what an interesting shelter."

"Wait until you see inside it," Celeste told them. "It's wonderful."

"Bear is one of the area's more interesting residents," Ali told Mac. "He's trapped and stuffed an amazing collection of local wildlife that he donated to the school. He lives in this yurt year-round with his wife, Patricia Robertson, who worked for NASA before moving to Colorado to live with Bear."

"She was a rocket scientist," Celeste elaborated.

"Really?" Mac looked amused.

"They're newlyweds, too. An interesting couple." Ali studied the yurt. "With an interesting home."

The yurt was a large circular tent with vertical walls and a conical roof modeled after those used by nomads on the steppes of Central Asia. Bear's yurt had what appeared to be a canvas outer sh.e.l.l and a wooden door frame and door. As Mac killed the ignition, the door opened and Bear stepped outside.

Mac took one look at him and grinned. Bear was the quintessential mountain man, with long hair and a full beard. He dressed in deerskin and carried a rifle. Identifying his visitors, he set down his gun, then lifted a hand in a wave and called out in his naturally raspy voice, "Peaches, it's Miss Celeste."

Peaches, Ali realized, was his pet name for Patricia, who joined him to greet the visitors. Ali introduced Mac, and Celeste explained her gasoline predicament. "Not a worry. I'll get you all fixed up," Bear declared. Noting the curiosity in Mac's gaze as he studied the yurt, he added, "Can I show you our home? It's a lot fancier inside than it used to be. Peaches fixed it up once she moved up here."

"He means I had him put in a septic system and a solar-heated bathroom," Patricia explained.

The interior of the yurt was s.p.a.cious and lovely-if decorating with animal skins was your thing. It had a wooden floor, rustic handmade furniture, and a queen-sized bed that looked as plush and comfortable as any Ali had owned. A second door opened to a short corridor that led to the facilities. "She tells me not to call it an outhouse anymore since we have indoor plumbing," Bear explained.

"It's wonderful," Ali said, meaning it.

"It is. I'll be sad to leave it," Patricia responded.

"You're going somewhere?"

Patricia smiled at Bear, who gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes, sighed, then took her hand. "My woman has been offered an opportunity to teach in Brazil. She wants to do it, and I can't let her go alone."

"What will you do with your yurt?" Ali asked. "It is portable, isn't it? Will you take it with you?"

"No. I'm thinking of leasing it," Bear said. "I'm not ready to sell, but since the short route is only twenty minutes into town, I might find someone in town who'd want to rent."

Patricia patted his hand. "We have time for him to decide. We don't leave until September."

They made small talk for a bit, and Bear invited them to stay for lunch. Celeste accepted, but Ali wanted to be alone with her husband. "Thank you, but maybe another time?" Ali said. "Mac and I brought a picnic hamper with us, and we planned to fish a bit below Heartache Falls."

Bear nodded. "It's a good spot. One side of the creek is my land, the other is Uncle Sam's. You'll have it to yourself today-since it's a Sat.u.r.day in July, all the locals are working."

Ali shot her husband a saucy wink. "Mac claims he's gonna catch me a trout dinner."

Bear gave him a measuring look. "You a fly fisherman?"

"I am."

"Hmph. Try the stream right before it widens into the lake." Bear strode over to a table, opened a drawer, and removed two items. "Give these a try," he told Mac, handing them over. "They're what I call my peaches-and-cream specials, and they've brought me nothing but luck."

"Thanks. I'll definitely give them a go."

After that, Mac and Ali took their leave, and soon they were back at the trailhead. Ali carried the blanket, while Mac toted the fis.h.i.+ng gear and picnic basket.

They didn't speak as they hiked. Ali drew a deep breath of air redolent with the fragrance of the forest-the clean, crisp scent of evergreen paired with the darker aroma of damp earth and decay. An occasional gust of breeze whispered through the leaves and needles of the trees, but for the most part, the woods remained quiet but for the soft crunch of twigs and sticks and dead leaves beneath their feet. In spots, sunlight dappled the forest floor. In the shadows, monster-sized toadstools made her think of leprechauns and pixies-until a two-foot-long brown snake slithering by wiped all thought of anything cute from her mind. Ali let out a little squeal, then stepped closer to Mac.

"You doing all right, honey?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, keeping her gaze on the forest floor. "How much farther, do you think?"

He stopped and took her hand. "I do believe we're there."

Ali halted, looked up, and said, "Oh, wow."

The high meadow was about the size of their neighborhood park in Denver and was awash in a sea of wildflowers, primarily yellows and pinks with a few blues and purples mixed in. At the far end a waterfall splashed down to a creek approximately six feet wide and lined with gra.s.ses and brush. The creek snaked its way through the center of the small clearing, then disappeared into the forest. It was a small, beautiful oasis.

"Definitely worth the hike," Mac said. "You want to pick a spot for the picnic blanket?"

He stepped aside and she led the way, spreading their forest-green blanket atop a patch of white columbines and clover a few feet from the water. Ali considered searching for a shamrock. Maybe later.

Following a brief debate, they decided to fish for a while before they ate. Mac, her hero, baited her hook with a nightcrawler rather than the salmon eggs she ordinarily used since she didn't do worms, and then he walked upstream with his fly rod. Ali found a spot where she could sit on a boulder and dip her hook into a crystal-clear pool. She watched the water gurgle and bubble and froth its way downstream and drew a parallel to her marriage.