Authors: Cindy Myers

The View From Here (16 page)

BOOK: The View From Here

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“Nice to meet you, Barbara. I'm Lucille.”

“Lucille is the mayor of Eureka,” Maggie said.

“Then do you have any authority over the town librarian?” Barb asked. “The woman isn't the best representative of Eureka hospitality.”

Lucille set aside the pot and sent Maggie a questioning look. “What did Cassie do?” she asked.

“She refused to let us use the Internet in the library,” Barb said. “She said it was because Maggie doesn't have a library card, but she won't issue her one without a utility bill, which you know she doesn't have, or a driver's license showing an address in Eureka County.”

“I can talk to her, but the county commissioners are the only ones with authority, and they pretty much let her make her own rules.”

“Why does everyone let her bully people?” Maggie asked, remembering Reggie's warnings about Cassie Maggie's first day in town.

“She's really not a bully,” Lucille said. “She's great with kids. Her family has lived here for four generations, but she's the only one left. She has her problems, but she's really not that bad. Her biggest fault is that she holds a grudge.”

“But Maggie hasn't done anything to her,” Barb protested. “The woman is mad at a dead man and taking it out on Maggie. That's sick.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Lucille said. “In the meantime, the easiest thing would be for Maggie to get her driver's license updated.” She smiled at Maggie. “After all, you are living here now.”

“I haven't decided yet to make it permanent.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and felt the two small stones from the mine.

She took them out and showed them to Lucille. “Have you seen any stones like this before?” she asked.

Lucille fingered the tiny stones and smiled. “I have a bracelet with similar stones that Murph gave me. Where did you find those?”

“Around my dad's place.” Maggie put her hand, and the stones, back in her pocket. “Did he say where he got the bracelet he gave you?”

Lucille tilted her head, thinking. “I'm pretty sure he told me it was from a jeweler's in Montana.” She nodded. “Yes, I'm positive that's what he said. Why?”

“Just wondering. I think these may have come from another bracelet or necklace that broke. If I find the rest of them, maybe I can get it fixed.”

“That's a good idea.” Lucille turned back to her boxes. “Is there anything else I can help you ladies with today?”

“No, thanks,” Maggie said. “I'm just showing Barb all the sights of Eureka.”

“You should take her out to Living Water,” Lucille said. “There's nothing like that in Houston, I promise you.”

Barb waited until they were back at Maggie's car before she asked the question Maggie knew had been burning on her tongue. “Living Water? Isn't that the naked hot springs you told me about?”

“Clothing optional,” Maggie said as she slid into the driver's seat. “You can wear a swimsuit if you want.”

“I didn't bring a swimsuit with me. Besides, you know what they say about when in Rome. If people in Eureka go skinny-dipping at the hot springs, then I will, too.”

“Barb!” The word came out as more of a yelp.

“Oh, come on, Maggie. What's the big deal? You don't have any parts no one else doesn't have. And after crawling around on my hands and knees half the morning in that mine, soaking in a hot springs sounds divine.”

“I've never been there before.” Maggie's stomach knotted and she gripped the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver.

“Then now's a great time to go, while I'm here to hold your hand.” Barb laughed. “Come on. What are you afraid of?”

What was she afraid of? Of being embarrassed? It wouldn't be the first time in her life. Of being judged? There was that, but why should she care what people who were most likely strangers thought of her?

She glanced at Barb, whose smile was warm and encouraging. “The hot water would feel good,” she said.

“That's my girl.” Barb patted her shoulder. “Let's go try it out.”

Maggie's stomach was doing backflips by the time she guided her car through the gate in Living Water's high wooden fence, but it calmed some as she drove through the beautifully landscaped grounds.

“This is gorgeous,” Barb said as the car glided past flowerbeds filled with blooms and a stretch of manicured lawn. “It's like some European spa.”

They parked by the office and went inside. A young woman with tattoos of flowers covering both arms greeted them. “Hi there. Is this your first visit to Living Water?”

Gee, how can you tell?
Maggie thought.

“Yes,” Barb announced. “We're virgins.”

The girl giggled. “Don't worry. You're going to love it.”

She explained the layout of the grounds and the various pools, issued towels, and pointed them to the changing room.

“You haven't been a virgin since tenth grade,” Maggie said when they reached the changing room.

“Neither have you, but isn't it a lovely idea? To have an experience that's brand new?”

They stripped off their clothes and stuffed them in a locker, then, wrapped in towels, followed a hallway to the entrance to the soaking area.

Rock paths wound among more flower beds to the naturally heated pools. The stone was cold beneath Maggie's feet and she shivered a little, feeling vulnerable with only this thin towel between herself and the outside air.

“The main pond is this way,” Barb said, starting down a path.

“I thought maybe we'd start somewhere smaller,” Maggie protested. “Less public.”

“Nonsense. We should dive right in.”

Murmured conversation alerted them to their approach to the main soaking pond. They rounded a bend in the path and the large, kidney-shaped pool came into view. Steam rose from the surface, blurring the images of men and women seated around the edges or floating in the middle. A quick scan revealed not one person was wearing more than a hat.

“Oh, this looks divine,” Barb said. Not waiting for a reply, she dropped her towel and headed for the water.

Chapter 14

M
aggie froze, one hand clutching the front of the towel she'd wrapped around herself, the other clenched at her side. This was the story of her lifeâhead full of ideas that sounded wild and daring, fear holding her back from carrying out any of them. When her friends in high school had skipped school to go to the beach, she'd stayed in class and suffered through Mrs. Prebble's feminine hygiene lesson. She'd bought a sensible sedan instead of the sports car she'd craved because her mother had told her sports cars were dangerous. When the urge to cut her hair in a stylish, slightly punk cut had hit, she'd let Carter convince her she wouldn't look like herself, though she could see now that had been the whole point. She was tired of being herselfâdull, sensible, and safe.

“Come on in. The water feels wonderful,” Barb called, smiling up at her like some middle-aged water nymph.

Heart pounding, Maggie let go of the towel and hurried into the water, submerging up to her neck in its warm embrace.

“Your face is all red,” Barb said.

“It's the heat.” Maggie put one hand to her burning cheek and fought the urge to wrap both arms across her torso, as if that would somehow preserve her tattered modesty.

“This makes me feel like a teenager,” Barb stretched her arms over her head and looked up at the sky. “Do you remember skinny-dipping out at the reservoir?”

“I never went skinny-dipping at the reservoir.” Something else she'd been too chicken to try.

“You didn't?” Barb laughed. “Well, you can make up for it now. You can come here all the time.”

“I'm only here now because of you.”

“Come on now. Don't you think it feels great?”

The water flowed around her like warm silk. She could say the same thing about a hot bath, but the sensation of standing here in broad daylight, with the sun overhead and other people around, was oddly . . . invigorating. “It feels good,” she admitted. “Just sort of . . . exposed.”

Barb laughed. “You are too much, darling.”

“I see you ladies are enjoying yourselves.”

Maggie's head snapped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Bob was wading toward them through the water, his naked chest sprinkled with white hair like frost on a weathered log. She jerked her gaze away, determined not to look down. Even the thought of shriveled old man bits was enough to traumatize her.

“This place is divine,” Barb cooed. “It must be the best-kept secret in Colorado.”

“Oh, we've got plenty of secrets hereabouts.” Bob turned to Maggie. “You take a look in the French Mistress yet?”

“We explored the mine this morning,” Barb said before Maggie had a chance to open her mouth. “I was sadly disappointed. There was nothing there but a bunch of rock.”

“Some of that rock can be worth a lot of money,” Bob said. “If it's the right kind.”

“I don't think there's anything valuable in that mine,” Maggie said. “I think the only reason my dad bought it was because it was remote and nobody would bother him up there.”

“Too lonely for you?” Bob asked.

“I'm not lonely.” The admission surprised her. She'd been far lonelier in the house in Houston after Carter left than she'd been in her father's cabin on the mountain. “I haven't had time to be lonely,” she said.

“You'll have plenty of time when you're snowed in this winter,” Bob said. “If you decide to stay.”

“Are you going to stay?” Barb asked.

The back of Maggie's neck prickled. Was it her imagination or had everyone leaned in to hear her answer? Had Jameso been serious about the locals placing bets on how long she'd stay in town? “I haven't decided,” she hedged. “I still have to wait for my father's will to be probated.”

“Probate's set for Friday.” Reggie, wearing only a ball cap and sunshadesâand a surprising amount of body hairâslipped into the water beside them. “I was going to drive up and tell you later today.”

“Um, okay.” Maggie covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. Yes, Eureka was a small town, but she felt as if she was in the middle of some wild farce. The only thing more ridiculous would be if the rest of the soakers in the pool broke into a Broadway-worthy song and dance.

“You must be Maggie's friend from Houston.” Reggie offered his hand. “I'm Reggie Paxton.”

“I see my reputation precedes me.” Barb shook hands. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jameso told us he took you up to Jake's place yesterday morning.”

“Who is âus'?” Maggie asked. Was Jameso sharing her schedule with everyone in town?

“Somebody commented on the moving truck parked behind Jameso's place,” Reggie said. “It was either tell the truth or have a rumor spread about him leaving town.”

“He should have gone for the rumor,” Barb said. “That's much more interesting than I am.”

“You seem pretty interesting to me.” Bob waggled his eyebrows in the manner of some melodrama villain.

“What's Jameso's story?” Barb asked. “How did he end up in Eureka? Is he from here?”

“Almost nobody is from Eureka,” Bob said. “Jameso showed up a few years ago and just sorta took. Like one of those windblown seeds that manages to take root in the rocks.”

“Where's he from?” Maggie asked. “Why did he come here? Eureka's not exactly on the way to anyplace else.”

“He might have come for the skiing or the fishing,” Reggie said. “I drove through here on a motorcycle seventeen years ago and fell in love. Moved back permanent as soon as I could quit my job and sublet my apartment in Milwaukee.”

“So your wife is from here?” Maggie asked. She'd heard of people doing stranger things for love.

Reggie laughed. “I moved here because I fell in love with the mountains. Katya came later.”

“There's a saying around here that people who stay in Eureka are either running to or running from something,” Bob said.

“Which are you?” Barb asked.

“I come here to prospect for gold,” Bob said. “So I was running to.”

“I guess my father was running from,” Maggie said. She hadn't yet decided if he saw his cabin on the mountain as a refuge or an exile.

“What'll it be, Maggie?” Barb asked.

“What do you mean?” She blinked at her friend.

Barb winked. “Are you running from or running to?”

“I'm not running at all,” she said lightly, but the words left her feeling heavy. She'd spent years moving her feet and going nowhere at all, treading water in a life that left her feeling empty. If nothing else, the divorce had forced her to think about moving, though where she'd end up she still hadn't a clue.

“Is Rick around here?” An older woman who walked with a decided limp hobbled to the edge of the pool. She wore khaki cargo shorts and a T-shirt with the Living Waters logo, and no bra, judging by the way her breasts hung somewhere near her navel. Maggie folded her arms under her own breasts, lifting them a little higher. They weren't sagging too much yet, but was it only a matter of time?

“Hey, Rick,” the woman called.

“I'm here, Grace.” A slight man with a tonsure of dark hair and a tattoo of an eagle on his shoulder waded toward the woman. “What is it?”

“I just heard on the scanner there's been a rock slide over near Hereford Pass. Couple of tourists got caught in it. Highway's closed.”

“So much for my afternoon off.” Rick started for the steps leading out of the pool.

“When are you gonna hire another reporter to help you out?” Reg asked.

“When I can find someone to work for the piss-poor salary I can afford.” He hauled himself out of the pool and began toweling off.

“Cute ass,” Barb whispered in Maggie's ear. “I wonder if he's single.”

Maggie didn't care if the man was single. She didn't even care that he was naked. “Did you say you were looking for a reporter?” she asked.

He stopped with the towel around one thigh. “Who are you?”

“Jake's daughter,” Bob and Reg chorused.

“Maggie Stevens,” she said, a beat behind.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her. He had bushy eyebrows, like a melodrama villain. “Can you write?”

“She's a wonderful writer,” Barb said. “And she's organized and reliable. She ran her ex-husband's business for years.”

Rick glanced at Barb, then back at Maggie. “Can you talk for yourself?”

“Yes, I can talk.” She frowned at Barb. “And I can write. I've never been professionally published, but I'd like the chance to try.”

“And you're willing to work for twenty-three hundred dollars a month?”

“Yes.” With the money her father had left her, she'd do all right. At least for a while.

“I'll give you a try.” He draped the towel around his shoulders. “Get dressed and come with me.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. If you want the job.”

“Go on.” Barb patted her shoulder. “I'll be fine here.”

Maggie hurried from the pool and into her clothes, marveling at the strange turn of events. She'd just interviewed for a job while stark naked. And been hired. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she zipped her jeans. But this time the sensations weren't caused by fear. Not entirely by fear, at least. After twenty years of putting her dreams on hold for other people, she'd impulsively done something solely for herself, just because it was what she wanted to do. The sensation was exhilarating.

“Come on,” Rick said when they met outside the dressing rooms. “You can ride with me. Do you have a camera?”

“Just a small digital one. And not with me.”

“You'll need a better one. And always carry it with you. Today you can borrow mine.”

She'd buy a camera. And a printer for her laptop. And maybe one of those little handheld recorders for taping interviews.

“What are you grinning about?” Rick asked.

She forced her mouth into a somber expression. “I'm looking forward to the job,” she said.

“It's a job.” He jerked open the driver's door of a weather-beaten Land Rover. “Lots of grunt work for little reward.”

As if working for Carter all those years had been particularly rewarding. At least now she was doing what she wanted, not what she was obligated to do for her marriage. She buckled her seat belt. “You won't be sorry you hired me.”

“If you're anything like your old man, I won't be.” Gears grinding, he threw the Rover into reverse and backed out of the parking lot.

“What do you mean?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the clatter of gravel against the bottom of the vehicle.

“Hardheadedness is a good trait for a reporter, and Jake was the stubbornest old mule I ever knew.”

Maggie didn't think she was particularly stubborn but saw no need to point this out to her new boss. Everything she'd heard about her father led her to believe she'd inherited very little from him beyond his material possessions. But he had passed on one thing more valuable than an empty mine and mountaintop views: he'd given her the opportunity to start over, in a very different kind of life. She hoped she'd make the right choices this time and find some of the happiness she'd missed the first time around.

“I'm calling a family meeting tonight and I expect you to be there, with Lucas.” Lucille was waiting for Olivia when the young woman emerged from her room shortly before noon on a Monday after school let out in mid-June.

Olivia blinked owlishly, and Lucille was struck by the resemblance to Lucas. Yet, what was awkward in the boy was beautiful in the woman. “What are you talking about?” Olivia said, and moved past her mother to the stairs.

Lucille followed her to the kitchen, where she'd put on coffee to brew. She let Olivia pour a cup before she spoke again. “I've hardly seen anything of you these past few weeks,” she said. “I want us to all have dinner together and talk.”

“I have a date.” Olivia stirred two spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee, the spoon rattling against the side of the mug.

“Then cancel it. It's not as if you aren't out every night anyway.”

“I'm not some kid you can order around.”

“You will always be my daughter, and since you're living here now I think I deserve a little consideration.”

“Don't talk to me about what you deserve.” Olivia glared at her.

BOOK: The View From Here

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