Finding Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  “You going over there?”

  Cobra shrugged as he replaced the rifle bolt and closed the action. “Sure. I can stop by. I’ll ask Silas and Mia about doing the Partner Packing.”

  “Are you going out to the range now?”

  Cobra shook his head, having only just changed his mind. “Tomorrow.”

  Brodie gave a considered nod, paused then looked and sounded far too casual. “I’ll talk to Raven about a gun.”

  “Sure. That would be good.” Cobra didn’t let on that he thought Brodie was making an excuse to see Raven the same way Cobra was taking the excuse to see Marnie. Instead, he put the rifle into its case and locked it in the cabinet.

  It was only a few minutes to Silas and Mia’s new house. The driveway was long and rutted, curving slightly through the woods before it opened up into their meadow. Silas had plans to improve it with gravel. Hauling three-quarter-inch crush up the supply road would be expensive, but it would definitely help—especially during the spring thaw.

  WSA’s big 615 loader was running close to the house, and Cobra could see Silas in the cab. When Silas spotted Cobra’s truck, he shut down the machine and climbed out while Cobra parked out of the way and walked over.

  “Looking good,” Cobra said, scanning the work Silas had done in leveling an area in front of the three-car garage.

  “The finishing touches take forever,” Silas said. “One bite at a time.”

  “Let me know if you need help.”

  Silas nodded. “Thanks. I will.”

  Cobra glanced at the 615 and couldn’t help but joke. “So, Mia’s machine-operating days are over?”

  During a flood emergency earlier in the summer, Mia had used the 615 to clear debris from the airstrip, likely saving Silas’s life when he’d been forced to land his plane there.

  “She retired with honors,” Silas said, smacking his glove-covered hand on the top of the machine’s yellow bucket.

  Cobra glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Marnie or Mia. Mia’s SUV was parked in the open garage. That was encouraging.

  “Brodie and I were talking about the Klondike Challenge,” he said to Silas.

  “You looking for donations?”

  “Between WSA and Galina, I think the finances are under control. Brodie said Mia’s a runner. Does she also bike?”

  “Was a runner,” Silas said. “Since the grizzly bear incident, she’s stayed away from roadwork. We’ve ordered a treadmill.” He nodded to the room above the garage. “That way her running’s not wildlife or weather dependent.”

  “There’s a new event this year, the Green Energy Challenge. A team of two men and two women on stationary bikes.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Generating energy. Highest kilowatt count wins. We’re thinking it’ll likely be T and T-Two for the guys, but we need to fill the women’s spots too.”

  “I can ask her,” Silas said.

  “She home now?” Cobra asked, glancing at the house.

  “I think they’re upstairs. Come on.” Silas peeled off his work gloves and headed for the front door.

  The entryway flooring was still partially covered in plastic, but the furnishings were in place now, and paintings had been hung on the walls, with other art objects and books set out around the living room.

  “Wow,” Cobra said in appreciation of the progress.

  “I know,” Silas said in agreement. “It’s sure not WSA housing.”

  “I might be a little jealous.” Not that Cobra needed anything near this nice. But he’d appreciate having his own kitchen and living room.

  When he’d first moved to Paradise, he hadn’t known how long the job would last. But it had been a few years, and for the first time, he wondered about building something for himself. He liked Silas’s location too—slightly outside town, quiet and where he could hear the faint rush of the river.

  “Mia?” Silas called up the stairs.

  He got only silence in response.

  “Mia?” he called again, louder, moving toward the bottom of the stairs.

  They both waited.

  “I thought they were up there,” Silas said. “They must have gone over to Raven’s.”

  “Mia’s SUV is in the garage.”

  “They usually walk or take an ATV. Brodie and I widened the path. I can ask her later.”

  Cobra forced down his disappointment. “Do you happen to know when Marnie is leaving?”

  “Not sure. She hasn’t said.”

  “We wondered if she might ride a bike.”

  Silas coughed out a laugh.

  Cobra frowned.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Silas said. “She’s awesome, but I don’t see a lot of strength in those hundred pounds.”

  Cobra knew Silas was right. He hadn’t truly considered Marnie a candidate for biking, but it had given him an excuse to ask about her.

  * * *

  * * *

  “Why are we in the bathroom?” Mia stage-whispered to Marnie.

  Marnie had rushed them in here from the open loft and closed the door as soon as she’d heard Cobra’s voice. Now she was perched on the raised-tile platform at the end of the oversize tub. Mia had taken the vanity chair.

  “I don’t want to tell you,” Marnie admitted.

  “Tell me what?”

  Marnie frowned at the illogical statement. She’d just said she didn’t want to tell Mia the reason.

  “Is it bad? Are you sick?” Mia asked.

  “No. I’m fine. Nothing bad. It’s . . . kind of a secret.”

  Mia pulled a face. “Since when don’t you tell me secrets?”

  “It’s not you I don’t want to tell.”

  Mia lifted her hands and glanced around. “Well, I’m the only one here.”

  “I don’t want to tell you something you can’t tell Silas.” Marnie wouldn’t ask Mia to keep a secret from her fiancé.

  “Is it about Silas?” Mia looked worried.

  Marnie knew she was making things worse. “No.”

  “Will it hurt Silas?”

  “It has absolutely nothing to do with Silas.”

  Mia looked relieved. She went silent for a beat. “You know, I don’t have to tell Silas everything. I mean if it were something that was none of his business . . .”

  “It is. None of his business.”

  “Great.” Mia smiled. “Let’s hear it.”

  Marnie gave in. “It’s Cobra,” she admitted.

  Mia glanced to the closed door, obviously knowing he was out there. “What about Cobra?”

  “I don’t want to see him.”

  Mia frowned in concern then. “Why? What did he do?” She started to rise. “Should I—”

  “No!” Marnie interjected, then quickly covered her mouth against the outburst.

  “No, what?”

  “No, don’t do anything. He didn’t do anything. He was fine. He was great.”

  “Then, why . . . ?”

  Marnie squeezed her eyes shut for a second and balled up her hands. “We had a thing.”

  “A thing?”

  “A sex thing.”

  Mia opened her mouth, but Marnie held up her hand to stop the ridiculous back and forth. “We had sex. Me . . . and Cobra . . . we had sex.”

  Now Mia looked baffled. “When? Where? Wait.” She stood, quickly crossing to the door and cracked it open.

  Panic flashed through Marnie’s stomach. “Don’t do that.”

  “I’ll be super quiet.” Mia put her finger to her lips and eased the door silently open. She looked back at Marnie with a triumphant grin.

  Marnie frantically shook her head, but Mia put her finger up in a one-minute gesture and slipped out of the bathroom.

  Unease rolling through her, Marnie held her breath until
Mia came back with their two half-full glasses of chardonnay.

  She set one down on the counter and quickly shut the door again.

  “You broke cover for wine?” Marnie could hardly believe it.

  Mia handed over Marnie’s glass. “Don’t tell me this isn’t a wine-worthy conversation.”

  Marnie had to admit it was. But it had still been a foolish chance to take. Then again, Mia had gotten away with it, and now they had wine.

  “What are they talking about down there?” Marnie asked.

  “All I heard was wife packing and chainsaw chucking.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  Mia shrugged as she took her chair again. “It’s what they said.”

  “Nothing about me?”

  “Nothing about you. Did you want it to be about you?”

  “No.” Marnie didn’t. Not really. A big part of her wanted to know what Cobra was thinking about her. But an even bigger part of her absolutely did not.

  “So.” Mia shimmied forward, leaned in and lifted her glass. “You and Cobra and sex. Dish.”

  “We had sex.” As she said the words, Marnie had to shake off the visceral memory.

  “Yeah, I’m going to need more than that.”

  “The night we fixed the twin otter. It was a long night, a tricky repair, and we were happy that we got it done in time, celebrating, really.”

  “In the hangar?”

  Marnie nodded. “On the workbench. Well, sort of on the workbench, but sort of—” She stopped herself again, the vivid memories crowding inside her head.

  Mia snickered, then she sobered. “Who am I to talk? Silas and I once celebrated in the cab of the 615 loader.”

  “That big thing outside?” Marnie pointed in the general direction of the driveway where Silas had been running the loud, rumbling machine all afternoon.

  “That’s the one.”

  Marnie laughed. “Well, at least it’s roomy.”

  “Not as roomy as you’d think. But, back to Cobra.”

  Marnie sighed. “It was almost morning, and Silas showed up.”

  “Silas caught you? Then why is it—”

  “No. No. We heard him coming in time. But then we had to test the otter’s engine, and everyone started showing up for the flight.”

  “So, you didn’t talk about it at all?”

  “A little, just to say goodbye while I was boarding. He was great, really sweet, really . . .” Marnie’s memories took over once again, and she felt a hitch in her chest. She took a drink of her wine to wash it away.

  Mia looked confused. “So . . . what’s the problem?”

  “You saw his expression after I stayed.”

  “What expression?”

  Marnie waved her glass. “He looked . . . surprised, disappointed, alarmed.”

  “He was afraid he wouldn’t get his room back,” Mia said.

  Marnie gave Mia a dubious frown. “Yeah, that wasn’t it. It would have been perfect for him, a wonderful weekend fling that he never had to think about again—if only I’d flown away like I was supposed to.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I think I do. And honestly”—Marnie paused—“I’d rather not find out for sure.” She squared her shoulders, her tone perking up as she voiced her plan. “So, I lay low, we finish the legal work, I leave and all is well—weekend-fling memory perfectly preserved.”

  Mia pondered for a moment, tapping her fingernails against her mostly empty wineglass. “I suppose,” she ventured slowly.

  Marnie would admit it wasn’t a perfect plan. “It’s the best plan I’ve come up with. And, believe me, I’ve thought about it . . . a lot.”

  Mia seemed to accept the logic. “But it was a good fling?”

  Marnie took another drink of her wine. “It was a great fling.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments.

  “So,” Mia ventured. “He’s not as scary as we thought?”

  Marnie shook her head. “He’s chatty too. You and Raven keep saying he’s so quiet. He’s not quiet.”

  “Really,” Mia intoned musingly. “Obviously, he likes you.”

  Or he’d liked her—certainly in the moment he had. Or he’d seemed to.

  Thinking back, he’d come across as skillful and smooth, like maybe he’d done it all before. And maybe he had. Maybe he was that good at having a fling because he’d practiced—a weekend in Anchorage here and there, nothing long-term, nothing serious. Marnie could see there’d be no end of willing women.

  “We need more wine,” Mia said, rising from her chair.

  What Marnie really needed was to put this behind her and move on.

  * * *

  * * *

  Cobra drove out to the makeshift target range a couple of miles from Raven’s cabin. He pulled his truck behind hers, parking off to the side in the burnished red fireweed stalks at the end of the narrow dirt road. He’d brought his .30-06 for him and both the .270 and the .308 for her to try. He could hear through the trees that she was shooting already, the crack of her rifle sharp as it echoed back from the hillside.

  He slung a bag with his pistol cases and ammunition over his shoulder and pulled the three rifle cases from the small back seat of his extended cab. The shots fell silent, the forest going still and quiet around him, the birds obviously frightened away by the rifle shots.

  After a moment, a squirrel scolded him from a nearby tree. Another answered it, and a branch rustled above him. The wind was calm, the air crisp in the shade of the towering fir trees. Snow was creeping down the mountainside, telling him they had only a few weeks before it fell and stuck in Paradise.

  He headed down the footpath to the range, hearing Raven take another couple shots. Then he heard her voice and wondered if Brodie had come out with her. She laughed, and he tried to imagine what was funny about target shooting.

  “Once or twice,” another voice said, and Cobra stopped still.

  It was Marnie.

  “You never told me that.” Mia added her voice to the conversation.

  “It doesn’t come up very often in LA,” Marnie answered.

  Cobra rounded the final corner of the path, the canyon and the firing platforms coming into view. Then he paused at the sight of Marnie.

  She was exactly as he’d remembered, better than he’d remembered, her copper hair pulled back but bright in the sunshine, the profile of her smile dazzling white, her lips soft, her laugh musical, the curves of her lithe body perfect in every single way.

  Raven stood up from the little bench in her firing lane and handed Marnie the rifle.

  Cobra lurched forward, thinking to stop her, afraid someone would get hurt, wondering what on earth Raven could be thinking. He was about to call out when he saw that Marnie knew what she was doing. She handled the rifle like a pro, checking the safety, opening the action and keeping the barrel at a safe angle as she settled herself on the bench.

  She put hearing protection over her ears and slipped on her protective eyewear. Then she leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table, her trigger finger safely to the side, looking through the scope.

  “What do you want me to hit?” she asked Raven.

  “Use target five. It’s fifty yards.”

  “You got it.”

  Fascinated, Cobra stood back to watch.

  Marnie stilled, paused then pulled the trigger. The sound ricocheted. Her shoulder barely moved as the rifle kicked back. It was a .30-30, not a huge rifle, but it had a firm enough recoil to leave a mark, especially when you considered her size and strength.

  She took a second shot, then a third.

  Raven checked the target through a set of binoculars. Her voice went high with apparent excitement. “No way. How did you do that?”

  Marnie shrugged and set the rifle on the platfor
m and stripped off the hearing protection.

  Mia took the binoculars from Raven and looked through them for a moment. “You hit the bull’s-eye,” she said to Marnie on a note of astonishment.

  “Try a hundred yards,” Raven said with obvious enthusiasm. “Target nine.”

  “Okay.” Marnie replaced the spent ammunition. This time, she fired off three shots in succession.

  Raven was quick with the binoculars.

  “Did she hit it?” Mia asked, talking loudly over their hearing protection.

  “Dead center,” Raven answered, stripping hers off and staring at Marnie in astonishment.

  Cobra started forward, amazed himself. What else had Marnie been hiding?

  Chatting among themselves, the women didn’t hear him until he was almost there.

  “There you are,” Raven said as he approached.

  Marnie turned, saw him, and her smile instantly disappeared.

  “She’s a deadeye,” Raven said.

  “That’s a terrible nickname,” Mia said.

  “Have you been holding out on us?” Cobra joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere between the two of them.

  “Nobody asked me about shooting,” Marnie said, her tone flat.

  Raven gave her an odd look.

  Mia glanced speculatively from Marnie to Cobra and back again. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess Marnie had told her something.

  Cobra set his rifles and ammunition on the stand in the next lane to free up his hands. He took the binoculars from Raven and raised them, focusing on the two targets. His eyes widened a little. To say Marnie had made a tight grouping was an understatement.

  “Do you have a military background?” he asked her, trying to imagine how an LA lawyer had learned to shoot like a sniper.

  “No,” she said, turning away from him and reloading the gun.

  He wasn’t about to give up. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

  Leaving the safety on, she raised the gun and put her eye to the scope. “I was raised by survivalists.”

  Mia reacted first. “No way.”

  Raven laughed.

  “In Merganser, Kansas?” Cobra asked.