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“I’m not sweating.” Much.
“Good. See the three men to your left?”
“Yes.”
“That’s your problem, if there’s going to be one. They don’t have much use for the government and feed off each other.”
She nodded then winced as Henry whistled. “Let’s get this meeting over with,” he said.
The meeting had been arranged by the district’s forest service supervisor before she arrived. Henry was president of the Flathead Cabin Owners’ Association and owned one of the cabins in addition to this jaw-dropping place. According to the supervisor, Henry’s ancestors had made their money back when the railroad was a major landowner. Henry could be generous when it served him to be, and a formidable foe if crossed. She wondered what Garret thought of Henry and the other way around.
The three men Garret had pointed out teased Henry about what brands of alcohol he intended to break out after the meeting. Then the youngest of the trio announced he’d taken his brother’s teenage sons hiking in the Bob where they’d seen several immature eagles and a mountain goat. Amber surmised he was talking about the Bob Marshall Wilderness area.
“How far away was the goat?” Garret asked.
The man chuckled. “I didn’t see it. The kid did.”
“He tried to point it out to you?”
“Yep.”
“What do you think?” Garret pressed. “I’m lucky to see them once or twice a year myself.”
“It’s the kid’s story. I’m not going to call him a liar.”
“I’m not either, Sig. I’m just stating my experience.”
“All right. Maybe he was mistaken about the goat, but I saw the eagles.”
“I’m glad you did,” Garret said. “Anything else happen while you and the boys were there or can we get to business?”
As Sig shrugged, Amber admired how Garret had handled things plus the fact that he took seeing rare wild animals as part of his job. Garret lived in a world far different from the one she’d grown up in. She wasn’t sure they’d have anything in common but wanted to find out.
“All right,” Garret said to the group. “I need everyone to understand why Amber Baum is here and will be working with you. She’s an archeologist.” He looked over at her. “I’m right, aren’t I? Not an anthropologist?”
His remarkable deep brown eyes were fixed on her. Suddenly she wasn’t sure of anything. It was as if the room full of people no longer existed. There was just this big, strong, competent, and exciting man and her. He’d take her deep into the mountains he was at home in and introduce her to their beauty and mystery. He’d help her make sense of the wilderness’ sounds, maybe guide her to remote creeks where they’d see fish no other human ever did. He’d help her up steep peaks and steady her while she looked through his binoculars at distant bighorn sheep and elk. Maybe a grizzly or wolf.
“That’s right, archeologist,” she heard someone who sounded like her say.
“Okay.” The way he continued to gaze at her, she wondered if Garret knew or suspected where her mind had gone. “That means she’s a college graduate so—”
“I have a master’s.”
He nodded approval while she warned herself to keep her mouth shut.
“Now I am impressed. She works for a governmental agency tasked with documenting and preserving the history of the country’s national forests. My employer—that’s the forest service not that anyone here needs the reminder—contracted with hers to inventory any and all historic structures under the service’s jurisdiction. There’s a lot of interest in historical Native American impact on the area that I think played a role in the creation of her agency.”
“How many layers of bureaucracy is that?” the man to Sig’s left asked. “Are more lining up to make our lives miserable?”
“It’ll be miserable only if you let it, Werner,” Garret said. “How old is your cabin?”
“My grandpa built it before your old man was born.”
“I don’t know when my old man was born,” Garret whispered before turning his attention back to the man wearing a baseball cap with fish hooks in it.
“Darn it, Werner, let him talk,” a woman sitting on a couch said. “Everyone knows your opinion of the government. We’re tired of it.”
Werner smirked and tipped his hat to the woman.
“Do you see why I warned you?” Garret said softly as everyone laughed. “Those three love playing to the crowd. The more they can rile things up, the more fun they have.”
“Are they always joking?”
“Unfortunately, no, but at least now you understand what you have to deal with.”
At the moment, she had a heated shoulder and the memory of Garret’s breath in her hair plus what he’d told her about his father to deal with. She should have shrugged off his impact so she could do her job, but feeling was better, much better. By the time she’d mentally replayed their brief interaction, Garret had stepped back, giving her center stage. She felt exposed standing there but knowing he was only a few feet away helped.
She’d been working toward a moment like this since childhood, that was what she should be thinking about, the culmination of all those years devoted to an education and getting her feet into her profession’s door. Her family, even though they were convinced she was making a huge mistake by abandoning California for remote Montana, would be proud of her.
She wished she felt the same way.
“I’m pleased so many of you could be here,” she started. “You all have responsibilities beyond the cabins in the only tract ever allowed in the Flathead Forest. I understand a number of you live elsewhere, which means attending this meeting called for traveling. I’m glad you did.”
Judging by their expressions, they were waiting to see if she’d say something they didn’t already know. She’d debated asking where everyone lived but that was a stalling tactic. She needed to stick to business and demonstrate that she was in charge.
She started by indicating the material she’d brought with her. “Hopefully the booklets will answer most questions. If they don’t and certainly if you want to talk to me either before I start inventorying your cabins or during the process, I brought enough business cards for everyone. Like Garret said, there’s a lot of interest in Native American impact on the forest. It’s a rich heritage, or rather, it has the potential to be. The more thorough my inventory, the sooner the agency can determine whether the tract your cabins are on will be designated historic.”
“What if we don’t want that label?” Henry asked.
Here it comes. “It isn’t a matter of wanting or not wanting. It’s reality.” Although she risked boring everyone, she launched into an explanation of how her agency had come into existence starting with the original Antiquities Act. In 1966 Congress had given the Secretary of the Interior the power and responsibility to make surveys of areas with potential historic importance. The forest specific agency that employed her was an offshoot of that.
“The surveys I’ve been charged with conducting are the start of a process that can lead to certain structures in and adjacent to Flathead Forest being added to the national register of historic places. Many people consider that an honor.”
“But if our cabins get on the register we’re screwed,” Sig said as Henry and Werner nodded. “The buildings are damn old. We won’t have a choice but to wait for them to fall down.”
It wasn’t like that at all, but she sensed she was going to have her work cut out for her trying to convince her audience. She explained that the pamphlets detailed the numerous ways people could maintain their property while retaining historical integrity. Granted, that sometimes meant having to use expensive materials.
“My agency is primarily interested in a building’s exterior,” she said. “Hopefully you’ll find the benefits of being on the national register are worth it. There can be federal assistance for maintenance and possibly tax benefits. Also, you’ll have the opportunity to agree with or object to
the nomination.” She smiled. “We’re talking about a governmental agency so the process will take time.”
“You’re from the government and you’re here to help us.” Sig smirked.
“I don’t know why the hell this has to happen,” the member of the trio who hadn’t spoken said. “We were doing just fine before we got all this damn attention.”
“Doug,” Garret said, “this has been in the works for a couple of years. You know that. The Flathead Forest is a designated wilderness. No more cabins will ever be built there. Consider yourself lucky you haven’t been forced to tear them down.”
“I’m not lucky,” Doug grumbled. “I’m a man with a bum back and a roof that needs replacing. Now I have to wait for this young lady who’s probably never been on a roof to tell me what I can and can’t do to stop the leaks. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she orders me to use only wood shakes.”
“I won’t,” she said as Garret positioned himself beside her. “Roofing materials in the wilderness are a unique situation. Yes, we want historical integrity but not if that increases fire danger. There are modern materials that look like wood but are fireproof.”
“And cost ten times as much.”
Before she could respond, Garret rubbed the back of his neck. “How about you hold your concerns until Amber is able to meet with you at your cabin.” He faced her. “That’s what you want, right? Their involvement.”
“Yes, of course.” She wasn’t sure what he was warning her about, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep her response brief.
“Good.” Garret picked up one of her business cards and took it to Doug. “The rest of you can mob the table once she’s done. Right now we need to let her finish.”
Hoping she wasn’t being too obvious about it, she watched as Garret rejoined her. He wasn’t infringing on her personal space, but she wouldn’t mind if he did. The man was so darned distracting, all sex appeal wrapped in blue jeans and the kind of shirt her male relatives and Barnes would never own. He was so different from her world.
The world she’d left.
If she’d known Garret Houle was waiting in the new world, she might have fled the old long ago.
Chapter Two
“So, what do you think?” Garret asked later as they stood near their respective vehicles in Henry’s parking area. People were leaving, which kicked up dust, but she wasn’t in a hurry to return to the Bigfork motel she’d been staying in.
Not with Garret willing to talk to her, and her thoughts where he was concerned going every direction except straight.
“Between you and me—” She resisted the urge to bump shoulders with him. “I think the men you warned me about are overage playground bullies. Hopefully they’ll mellow once I’m dealing with them one at a time.”
“They do, to an extent. But they’ve convinced themselves that having forest cabins makes them mountain men. A few years ago the service had to threaten to take Henry to court before he agreed to get a permit for the new well he was determined to dig.” He waved at an older woman driving a white truck. “That’s Werner’s wife. I understand she’s opening a shop in Sweetheart and hardly ever has time to be at the cabin with him. Frankly, I think she prefers it that way.”
“I had lunch in Sweetheart on my way here. I liked the town’s vibe.”
“So do I.” He waved at another vehicle. “I suggest we leave. Otherwise someone’s going to waylay us.”
Her presentation hadn’t taken long. Most of the past hour had been taken up with specific questions about individual cabins. She was tired of saying she couldn’t comment until she’d seen the property. Before she’d met Garret, she’d been eager to have tonight behind her, but his presence had changed that. She didn’t understand why she was drawn to him beyond his sex appeal, which shouldn’t dominate a relationship with a man.
“Are you in a hurry to go home?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Then how about we head to the Mountain Climber? You need to know more about the folks you’ll be dealing with.”
“Mountain Climber. What’s that?”
He frowned then smiled a smile she felt clear through her. “That’s right. You’re new to the area. It’s a bar with decent food and cold beer.”
As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. She agreed with his suggestion and headed for her SUV, her thoughts divided between how much she wanted to spend more time with this no-nonsense man and how surprised her family would be. The Baums didn’t do beer joints.
But she was more than a Baum. She was a single, independent woman living in an absolutely magnificent state who’d just met a man.
A man. He was more than that. Something she’d never experienced.
Garret had driven slower than he usually did because he’d wanted to make sure Amber could follow him. If it had been winter, they might have Highway 35 to themselves, but it was summer, and the tourists were out in force. The Mountain Climber’s parking lot was more than half full. He parked where there were two adjacent empty spaces and watched as Amber slid in next to his work four-wheel drive truck.
He was a little surprised she’d agreed to come here, more than a little in fact. There was a lot he didn’t know about the petite brunette, but online research had revealed she used to live in Sacramento, California. There were several prominent Baums in the city, and he wondered if she was related to them. If so, they were probably accustomed to upscale lounges or gatherings at someone’s expensive home.
Darn it, he was stereotyping the woman when he hated having it done to him.
“I hope you’re right about the food being decent,” she said after she got out. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
He sighed dramatically. “Darn, I hate this kind of pressure. It’s pretty basic stuff.”
“I love basic.”
They should be heading for the door, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry and as long as she wanted to stand this close to him, he was content. Well, not content, more like on alert and aware. Even though his job called for him being alone a lot of the time, he’d had his share of female companionship and had nearly gotten married three years ago. A woman shouldn’t have him off-balance, but she did.
Amber Baum wasn’t tiny, but her maybe five foot four inches meant she was considerably shorter than him. Her hands were small. Heck, everything about her was small. And yet she was built like a woman with rounded hips under the trim slacks and breasts that made their presence nicely known beneath the soft blouse. Her jewelry consisted of a silver chain around her neck, a simple touch of femininity to set off her auburn hair and green eyes. No wedding ring, not even a mark where one had been.
Her eyes got to him, held his attention. He didn’t recall ever seeing that vibrant shade of green and hoped the color didn’t come from contacts. He liked that she didn’t paint her nails and kept them short, unlike Carole.
Forget Carole.
Amber’s cell phone chirped, startling them. As she fished it out of her small purse, he pondered how long they’d been standing here with him not keeping up his end of the conversation. Hopefully not so long she’d concluded he wasn’t too bright. The way he saw it, his mind was doing just fine, more locked into the human being with him than it had been for a long time. He didn’t understand why. She was attractive and intelligent with startling green eyes but hardly the only smart, good-looking woman he’d ever met.
Maybe it was her slight build, knowing she was new to the area, and his concerns about her ability to hold her own. Yes, those things definitely factored in. He was hard-wired to defend and protect those who needed defending and protecting.
Even if, like Carole, they didn’t want it.
Some needed his dedication, specifically his kid sisters. His stomach knotted at the memory of a terrifying time.
“I got your text,” she said to whoever had called. “I was going to answer as soon as I had a moment. Mom, I’m busy. What if I call you in the morning? All right, I’ll send you a picture of wher
e I’m staying but I’ll be moving as soon as—no, I didn’t hear about it. Of course he’s pleased. It’s what he’s been aiming for.” She rolled her eyes for Garret’s benefit. “How about you let me handle that? I know what to say when one of my siblings gets a promotion. Look, I’m holding something up. All right. Call me when you have a break tomorrow.”
She sighed, shook her head, and studied the phone until it went black. “Please tell me the time will come when she sees me as an adult.”
He’d been the man of the house since before he was a teenager so didn’t know how to respond. Instead of telling her something she couldn’t care about, he indicated the bar. He wanted to take her hand and guide her, but they were semi-colleagues, not romantically involved.
Don’t forget that. She has her life, I have mine.
They didn’t speak again until they were inside the well-lit place with the smell of hops and fried food wrapped around them. Because he was familiar with the room, he pointed toward the back, away from the bar where drinks were being dispensed.
“Are you brave enough for this?” he asked. “I’ll try to steer you safely through the gauntlet.”
“You don’t have to. I won’t break.”
“I didn’t say you would. I’m just pointing out how crowded it is.”
“You’re right. It is.”
Taking her comment as permission to touch her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her to his side. She was tense, her arm against him, and her fingers a little lower than he could handle without reacting. Now that he had hold of her, he realized she was more substantial than he’d thought. Beneath the stylish but understated clothes, the woman was firm and soft in all the places that needed to be those things. Either she worked out or her job called for muscles. He wanted to ask which it was.
Wanted to ask her north of a million things such as how did she feel about having sex with a man she’d just met.
The men she’d talked to during the meeting had been more attentive than he recalled them ever being. The malcontents as his fellow rangers and he called Henry, Sig, Werner, and Doug hadn’t cut her any slack, but they had sat straighter and sucked in their bellies. Unless he was mistaken, they were looking forward to having some one-on-one time with her. It wasn’t going to happen if he had anything to do with it.