Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)(34)

He just shook his head. “Amazing, the stuff a guy can live without understanding… And did you have red boots?”

“Like those? Oh, please! I think a handful of women on earth have boots like those. I don’t know who the designer is, but the soles were shiny black. They were like art. But hey, I had red patent leather pumps once, when I was fifteen, for a special high school dance…”

“There you go…”

“That I went to with my girlfriend,” she finished, laughing. “Trust me, I’ve never been in the red leather boot league!”

When he pulled into Virgin River he became a bit more solemn. “Listen, there’s another reason I drove you besides my devoted friendship. We’ve been having some wildlife issues.”

“I saw you fixing the fence again.”

“Three times in a month. Seriously, we don’t usually get the fence broken down. No one has seen our pest, but I suspect a bear that was pestering one of our neighbors. I caught sight of her in the orchard earlier in summer—eating green apples. She has triplets, and by now they’re getting pretty big. She must be coming in early morning or evening. At least she isn’t bothering the orchard while we’re working. But I’m getting mighty sick of repairing the goddamn fence.”

“How can you be sure it’s a bear?”

“Deer won’t break down a fence—they’ll try to reach over it for the fruit. Mountain lions are carnivores—they’re not interested in apples. They’re interested in meat—the flesh of any animal they can catch.”

“Oh,” she said. “Feeling so much better now that I know that.”

“They almost never attack a human that doesn’t have them cornered.”

“Way to comfort, Tom,” she said.

“I think the bear and her cubs are climbing the fence to get over and breaking it down in the process and I’ll be damned if I’ll build a brick wall to keep them out. I’ll sit up in a tree and shoot her first.”

“Hey, I’m not going to lobby for her safety. I’m just thinking—are we talking lost apples or lost lives here?”

“I’m thinking broken fences,” he said. “But there’s a danger of running into her or the cubs and being attacked because you posed a threat.”

“How could someone like me pose a threat to anything?” she asked.

He scraped off his cap and ran a hand over his head. “It’s not logical, Nora. It’s wildlife, trying to protect their young and their turf. She recently took a swipe at a guy who was too close and he was laying facedown, playing dead. Hurt him pretty bad.”

She gave her chin a resolute drop and said, “Yep, the bear has to go. Good luck with that.”

“I’ll be here Monday morning. Don’t walk. Are we on the same page here?”

“Of course,” she said. He pulled up to her house and she grabbed the door. As she was exiting, she grinned devilishly. “Have fun with those boots.”

“Get out, you little hussy.”

“Hey! I think it’s against the law for a boss to call an employee a hussy!”

He leaned toward her. “Sue me.”

* * *

Tom went home, showered and shaved and, for once, put on clothes that did not wear the Cavanaugh logo. When he went downstairs, he found Darla sitting at the table while Maxie puttered around the kitchen, cooking and talking. Darla nursed a glass of white wine and Tom helped himself to a beer. “Junior coming to dinner?” he asked his grandmother.

“Not tonight. It’s just the three of us tonight. I want a chance to get to know Darla a little bit.”

“There’s not too much to know. I grew up in Colorado, went to college there, got the only job I’ve had since with a local drug company, met my husband there. We hadn’t been married long when he deployed.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Darla,” Maxie said.

“Thank you. I’ve moved on—that’s what Bob would’ve wanted. I’m very close to my family and they’ve been a huge support.”

“You live near your family?” Maxie asked.

“We all live within five miles of each other,” she said. “My brother, his wife and their two kids, my mom and dad, an aunt and uncle, a couple of cousins. We watch each other’s pets when we travel.”

“You have a pet?” Maxie asked. She looked down at Duke who was sprawled under the table and at her look, he lifted his head. Then dropped it again in boredom.

“A little white poodle named Precious,” she said. “He doesn’t shed.”

Tom choked on his beer. Maxie slapped him on the back. “Wrong pipe,” she said. “Is your dog with you at UC Davis?”

“No, that wouldn’t have worked. I didn’t have friends there. He’s at my parents’ house where he has a close relationship with their Scottish Terrier. I travel in my job so Precious is often with my parents.”

“Anything I can do to help you, Maxie?” Tom asked.

“Yes, thanks. Go to the basement and pull a pound cake and some strawberries out of the freezer. We’ll have that with our coffee later.”

“Oh, not for me, Maxie,” Darla said. “I’m not much of a dessert person.”