“Did you say ice fishing?”
Sadie turned. Blake had approached to glance over her shoulder at the map.
“You ever been?”
Excitement made his hazel eyes glitter. “You do that?” He stuck a finger at the map and looked at her.
“Well, yeah.” She waved at Wes. “I was just telling this dum-dum how it’s the only fishing you can do this time of year. The season opens in January, and you can fish from sunrise to noon, which isn’t long in the winter. Sun doesn’t rise till nearly eight. They allow another window in the evening, but I make a better worm than I do an owl. Like, early worm versus night owl, get it? I’m saying I’m not much of a night person—”
“He gets it.” Wes had crossed his arms and watched her with an amused tilt to his head and a slight grin only she knew the meaning of. It was the same one she got every time he busted her checking out at a cute guy on the slopes.
She curled her lip at him and stuck out her tongue. Then she looked at Blake to see how much of the exchange he’d been privy to.
His mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her. “Can I go?”
Sadie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She assessed Blake’s expression, from the open mouth to the rapidly blinking eyes and eager set to his shoulders.
Amanda’s boring him to death. She had an insider’s point of view, too, having suffered through weekly “date nights” with Amanda. The woman had no grasp on anything in the realm of fun. Luckily for Sadie, she didn’t need Amanda for fun. She took care of her own entertainment. But Blake was pretty much at the mercy of Amanda’s idea of a good time.
Instead of issuing the invite he so desperately craved, Sadie stroked her chin. “How are things going with Eric?”
No hesitation. “Not great. He’s skittish. But he ate the chunk of banana I left on the porch two nights ago. I haven’t fed him again, because I don’t want to turn him into a pet or anything. I’m just trying to show him I’m a good guy.”
Are you a good guy, Blake? Are you really, though?
This guy did weird things to her brain and her heart. There was just something….
Amanda popped up at her other shoulder. “Who’s Eric?”
Sadie’s heart catapulted into her throat. She forgotten Amanda standing not two feet away.
Blake didn’t miss a beat. “A fox who lives near my cabin.”
“Oh.” Her face hadn’t been expressing any particular emotion, but it seemed to relax a smidge. “Sadie, are you coming by for dinner tonight?”
Sadie pasted a grin on her face and hoped Amanda didn’t suspect it was forced. She wasn’t adverse to good food—damn good food, so long as Amanda was cooking—but her back was starting to feel the tension from being stiff so often. Probably because of the stifling atmosphere at Amanda’s condo. She refused Sadie’s offer to host dinner at her place. To be fair, Sadie might’ve mentioned frozen meatloaf and canned green beans. The conversation had sort of gone downhill from there.
Sure, she could entertain herself, but Amanda could stand to loosen up and try something new. There were only so many outdated movies on Netflix, right? Winter wasn’t an excuse to be idle. Sadie wanted to slap on her snowshoes and walk the bike path along Flat Creek or sled at the bottom of Snow King or head to Teton Village for some night skiing. She wanted to order pizza and wings, put on a horror flick, and scare herself into sleeping with the lights on. Barring all that, she wanted to curl up next to a warm fire. Amanda had her fireplace blocked off because she hated the mess—the sawdust and wood chips, the soot, the smoke, basically all the things Sadie loved about them.
Anything but sit in Amanda’s stuffy place and eat yet another five-star meal she spent half the night preparing.
It struck Sadie that Wes was exactly the type of person to appreciate Amanda’s down-time habits. A bit of a homebody himself, Wes hated smoky wood fires and had a thing for the same old spaghetti westerns Amanda seemed to have an affinity for. Plus, he was a total food snob. Could it be that easy? All she had to do was dump Wes on Amanda’s doorstep and tiptoe away with Blake….
I’m a horrible, horrible friend. She forced herself to look Amanda in the eye. “I’d love to, but I should prepare for ice fishing Saturday. Gotta wrestle my gear out of storage, which will take a good shoveling of snow from around the back patio, and double-check everything. It might be high time to replace my shelter. Maybe next week?”
Blake broke in. “I’m serious. I want to go. Can I?”
At this point, both Amanda and Blake were watching her. Kennedy, Nina, and Wes were on the sidelines taking in the show. Wes had that same smirk on his smarmy face, Nina, a bright, curious gaze as she took it in to report to Reba later. Finally, Kennedy, with her mouth a hard, flat line of disapproval. Each of them waited with bated breath to see if she’d cross the line.
Sadie inhaled deeply and gave her attention to Blake. “I’d love to take you along. If you’re going to stick around Jackson Hole, you should learn the basics of ice fishing from someone who knows what they’re doing. Anyone else want to join?”
A series of head shakes and muttered declines. Exactly what Sadie expected. None of them wanted to go, and each one of them would have some opinion on why Blake—the one guy genuinely interested—shouldn’t either.
Blake’s beaming face was like a gem among pebbles. “Wow. I never dreamed I’d go ice fishing. How cool is that?” He directed the last part at Amanda, who looked like her answer might be along the lines of not very.
He thanked Sadie again for the invite, and he and Amanda strode away, back to their respective jobs. Exactly what Sadie ought to do. She ignored the three gaping morons and went into her office.
As expected, Kennedy followed and closed the door behind her.
For a moment, Sadie considered warning her. She could feel the righteousness roiling in her belly. If Kennedy didn’t tread lightly, she’d get more than she bargained for out of this conversation.
“What are trying to do, Sadie? Play head games with Blake? Or maybe Wes is the target.”
Sadie flopped into her chair. Kennedy had her cutest outfit on today. It was Sadie’s favorite, at any rate, a corset-style violet top and matching pencil skirt that paired nicely with her blond ringlets and green eyes. Why didn’t Wes go after her? A woman interested. A woman emotionally available. A woman with killer fashion sense and noble intentions.
“Neither, you jerk. Blake thought ice fishing sounded awesome. Probably because ice fishing is awesome. And why shouldn’t I take him? I invited every one of you to come along. Amanda could go if she wanted, but I won’t tell Blake he can’t because there won’t be a chaperone. Screw all of you.” She flicked a pen at Kennedy.
Kennedy flinched as the pen struck her in the arm. Her heel even kicked up to the side like she might bat it away with her knee. “Quit that! God, you’re so immature. You remind me of a college dude or something. It’s all hiking and sports and stupid, uncomfortable hobbies.”
“Yeah?” Sadie reclined and poised her fingertips together in a neat steeple. “Well, it seems to work for me. Apparently, dudes like a girl who likes to do ‘dude’ stuff. And before you fly with that, I grew up doing all this kind of stuff with my mom, for your information. I act like the woman my mother raised me to act like, and you can take your jealous ass the hell out of my office if you think I’m going to sit here and let a secretary berate me over my personal affairs.”
Sadie hadn’t meant to say all that. She really, really hadn’t. But she wouldn’t take it back, either. In fact, now that the dam had burst, she might as well go all in.
She stood and peered at her best friend. “While we’re on the topic, I’m warning you to back off about Wes. You’re an idiot if you think all that tension between us stems from a few dates and a misunderstanding. Our relationship ended—” Sadie stopped, unwilling to say the words but knowing she had to or Kennedy would never understand. She briefly closed her eyes and s
teeled herself. “We miscarried. And we weren’t able to come back from it. No, I don’t intentionally keep Wes stringing along behind me, Ken. I’d like nothing more than for him to let it go. Let me go. As far as Blake is concerned, I understand you two have become friends, but I doubt it extends to you being his keeper.”
Kennedy’s eyes seemed to solidify and grow bigger at the same time, like water expanding as it froze.
Sadie groaned and came around her desk. “Kennedy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean the whole secretary bit. The part about not letting you rip me a new one over something that’s not your business, I did mean. But I didn’t mean to be hateful. I’m sorry.”
Kennedy blinked and seemed to come to, speaking in a clipped tone. “Sadie Darling Felix.”
She cringed at hearing her full name.
“You’re a fool. I cannot believe you wouldn’t tell me. How could you go through something so awful without telling me?” She raised a hand and curled it into a fist. “Never mind. You’re right, I didn’t know about your history with Wes, and we’ll come back to who’s to blame for that later, but I have to tell you, I’ve spent the last couple of months getting to know Blake. That man is bored to within an inch of his life.”
Sadie snorted. “I guessed as much.”
Kennedy’s eyebrow rose beseechingly. “I’m not jealous, you twit. I’m trying to look out for you. Hear me out. If Blake spends enough time with you that he starts making comparisons and comes to the realization that you’re the better pick—which he’ll do because you’re Sadie. Of course, you’d be the one, wouldn’t you? You’re spunky where Amanda is flat, sparkly where she’s dim, and interesting where she’s dull. He’ll choose you over her.”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “You’re laying it on kind of thick here, Ken.”
“Think about it. Ice fishing versus another crummy old movie. Hot wings and beer versus pretentious fine dining. Oh, don’t look at me like that. He’s complained more than once about Amanda’s stuffy date nights. Tell me what will happen to your friendship with Amanda if Blake falls for you? How will you all work together? Sadie, you’re asking for trouble. You’re playing with their relationship.”
Sadie ran a hand through her hair, which she hated to do because it made the sides puffy. “Why is the concept of friends beyond you?”
Kennedy’s jaw tightened. “If you’re serious about becoming the chief accountant of this office, you need to take a step back and consider what you’re doing. If you’re involved with Blake, or in any way cause problems between him and Amanda, you’ll lose the respect of everyone who works here. And maybe even your job.”
Sadie went to argue but found she couldn’t. She nodded slowly. “Okay, I can see where my personal affairs may affect the atmosphere of the office. Then again, you’re jumping ahead like a frog on crack. Listen, you remember I told you Amanda reminds Blake of Quinn, the high school sweetheart he screwed over? What I haven’t told you is that I remind him of the devil woman he sneaked around with behind her back. Every time he looks at me, he gets a nasty little flashback to the woman who he feels ruined his life. Which isn’t really fair, is it? Why does the woman always get the blame in these situations?”
Kennedy rocked her hip to the side and placed a tidy little fist on it. “He doesn’t blame Kira. He blames himself for being weak. Not only do you remind him of her in your looks and personality, but you realize you’re now in the same position she was, right? Poised to create total mayhem.”
“This isn’t fair,” Sadie snapped. “I’m not trying to seduce Blake. I’m not trying to ruin anything or cause mayhem like some Gotham baddie. Geez, Kennedy, you make it sound like I’m gunning for the guy.”
Kennedy’s expression turned sympathetic. “I don’t think that. But I do think it’d be very easy for Blake’s history to repeat itself.”
“Funny, that keeps coming up. But what none of you jerks take into account is my history. I’m not a slut, even if Blake is.”
“Oh, come on, Sadie. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Not in so many words.” Sadie returned to her chair and turned her attention to her computer monitor in clear dismissal. “But close enough to start pissing me off.”
Chapter 9
In the hours before the sun came up, the only color in a gray world glowed from the orange street lamps that lined Broadway. Even as the sky lightened, Blake still couldn’t differentiate between the air and the ground—the world was white-washed. Flurries of snow fell sporadically. The thick, stiff coveralls Sadie had loaned him were warm, but not impenetrable. He shivered, then forced himself to stop when he noticed Sadie hardly seemed aware of the frigid temperatures.
Blake felt about as useful as a holey pocket. He was good for shuffling things around at Sadie’s command, but beyond that, he had nothing to offer.
From a small storage room off her back patio, they loaded heavy equipment up into the bed of her truck with a metal ramp she used for just such an occasion. An ice sled, she explained, would allow them to haul their gear easily over the frozen surface of Jackson Lake. They loaded a tackle box with ice line, lures, and rods, plus an ice auger, which Sadie told him was the tool used to cut into the thick lake ice. Finally, they added a thermal tent shelter, a tall, round cooler for holding any fish they caught, and a portable heater that ran on propane cylinders.
He wouldn’t admit it to Sadie, but the idea of a heater blasting out warm air on a frozen surface seemed like asking for trouble. But he deferred to her experience and didn’t make a fool of himself by seeking reassurance.
The truck loaded and the storage room locked up, they climbed into Sadie’s truck, and she handed him a small cooler before starting the engine.
“Seems redundant,” he quipped.
Sadie grinned as she shifted into drive. “You’re welcome to put your sandwich somewhere else.”
The drive out to the lake was like something out of a wintery fairy tale. The Tetons rose up from the valley like tyrants looming over their minions—stark, formidable, and terrifying. The sagebrush coated in inches of thick white snow created dips and hollows that made the landscape seem especially foreign, like the surface of an alien planet. The elk were crammed into the refuge, thousands upon thousands, and herds of wild buffalo dotted the hills on either side of the winding highway.
“Wild buffalo. That’s unreal.”
“I’m always surprised when people are surprised.” Sadie paused a beat. “Your poor judgment concerning wild animals, like your fox friend, compels me to warn you buffalo will maul and kill you if you get too close. As will moose. And even elk. Hell, a whitetail deer might have a go if it’s got young nearby. Every year, some dumb tourists gets shredded to ribbons because they think Yellowstone is a petting zoo.”
Blake raised his hands in defense but kept his gaze trained on the passing landscape. “Knee-high or smaller. I’m stupid, not brave.”
Sadie pointed toward the valley opening up in the foreground of the Tetons, showing him where the Snake River wound through the lowest part of the valley, its every twist and turn given away by the evergreens and aspens that grew in thick patches along its banks. “Great fishing in the Snake. When I was a kid, my first stepdad took me fishing east of here, at the other end of town. There’s a spot under a bridge with some nice beach-like areas. So, he’s got this open-reel, hundred-dollar rod, right? And me, of course, he gave this crappy plastic thing, with thin line that snapped like nothing, and probably cost ten bucks. We’re fishing and we’re fishing, and he catches the first one, a brown trout a good eight or nine inches long. I wasn’t surprised, but I was definitely grumpy. My mom taught me to fish. I knew what I was doing. I hated being treated like I was playing at it when I was every bit as good of an angler as my stepdad, even at that young age. Anyway, a few hours in, he’s ready to leave. I’m not. I insist he let me cast a few more times. He grumbles and moans but starts packing our gear slowly, yapping on and on about his great catch, a
s I keep at it.
“And then, wham! Something yanks my line so hard I immediately think I’ve hooked on to a fallen tree in the water, because it’s solid. But then it starts to tug. Fallen trees don’t tug. I start working at it. Reel, stop, tug. Let out a little line, then yank it back to set the hook, praying the crappy line doesn’t break. It was like some kind of miracle when I reeled in a fourteen-inch rainbow trout. My stepdad was pissed.”
Riveted, Blake stared at her profile as she drove, admiring the reminiscent smile playing on her lips at the fond memory. “Does the fish get bigger every time you tell the story?”
Her small fist sprung out and caught his shoulder in a playful attack. “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
He laughed and rubbed his shoulder. “You said he was your first stepdad?”
Her jaw fell open, and she turned her smoky eyes to him. “Really? I tell you an amazing story, the crowning achievement of my angling youth, and that’s your question?” Her gaze swung back to the road. “Yeah, I had more than one. My mom wasn’t the type to settle. You know how guys are. Okay, maybe you don’t. Once they have you, they quit trying. The way men say a woman lets herself go. Well, with men, they quit being charming and romantic. They start watching television in their underwear and not caring what they smell like. Mom was a bra-burning mountain girl, with a painfully idealistic image of what constituted love. When they quit making an effort because she was ‘won,’ she left. They were supposed to chase her on their dashing steeds, move mountains for her, and vow to never lose her again. None of them ever did any of those things. She wanted the fairy tale and never got it.”
“What happened to her?”
Sadie kept referring to her mom in past tense. Blake wasn’t genius-grade material, but he could do simple math.
Sadie’s mouth formed a straight line. “Mountain climbing accident.” She pointed to her left, to the severe Tetons. “Climbing to the peak of the Grand Teton. She fell. She survived the fall itself. Broke her back and dozens of other bones. A rescue helicopter found her, and she was lifted to the hospital, where she died shortly after from internal injuries.”
Running the Numbers Page 12
