Black Hills Baby

by Debra Salonen

  “Oh,” she said, still elbow deep in sudsy water. “I was just wondering. You were good with Megan tonight. You seem like you’d be a natural.”

  “Because I can get down to their level? Are you saying I’m childlike?” He kept his tone light on purpose. He liked spending comfortable time in her presence. He didn’t want to ruin their pleasant evening with a serious conversation. He knew one was coming, but the less she asked about his motivation behind answering her proposal, the less he had to…fudge. His mother’s word for fibbing.

  So I fudged about your previous experience, he remembered his mother saying after he was given his first soap opera role as a troubled teen. They wouldn’t have even looked at you if they’d known you’d only worked in commercials. And, hey, you acted. You didn’t even like the taste of that cereal they made you eat. It’s the biz, son. It’s built on lies, but I never lie. Only fudge a little. When it’s really necessary. Toward the end, her lies would have made enough dense chocolate dessert to feed an army.

  “…empathic,” Libby was saying when he tuned back in to the conversation.

  Emphatic? Or empathic? One of them meant sensitive, he thought. He wasn’t sure which.

  He was saved a reply-–which he didn’t have in mind, since he had no idea what she was talking about–-by the buzzing sound of her doorbell. He’d heard it earlier when her niece pushed it on the way home. It had reminded him of an angry hornet.

  “Expecting company?”

  She shook her head. He handed her the towel so she could dry her hands after pulling the plug on the dishwater.

  She wiped her hands, ran the towel around the inside of the sink, and then hung it over a knob. After a self-conscious little finger-combing of her wavy locks, she walked into the living room.

  The buzzer sounded again, followed by a knock.

  “Libby? Are you okay?”

  “It’s Jenna,” she murmured, hurrying to the door. “Hi. Of course I’m okay. What’s up?”

  Three women crowded through the narrow opening that Libby had obviously meant as a deterrent to keep people out. The first one through was the redhead he’d met earlier. The other two--a blonde with curly hair scraped back in a pony tail, and a petite black-haired woman who seemed to bounce with energy--walked toward the living room without being invited to do so.

  Good friends, he surmised. Here to check out the sperm donor. He wished he’d rehearsed his lines. Or even knew what role he was supposed to play.

  “Hi. I’m Cooper Lindstrom,” he said addressing them as a whole. “I’m guessing you know why I’m here. A question--is it common knowledge or are you three Libby’s best friends?”

  “The latter,” the dark-haired woman said taking off her black windbreaker to reveal a long-sleeved black turtleneck and black leggings. "I’m Char."

  She was trim and athletic-looking but with plenty of curves. Not his type, but someone who would make a great secondary character. Easily recognizable as a girl-Friday type. “Fame is relative.”

  He cocked his chin. “Einstein?”

  “Jones. As in Char Jones.”

  He liked her. She had spunk.

  After dropping her jean jacket on the couch, the blonde walked up to him, hand extended. “My name is Katherine Petroski, but everyone calls me Kat. We’re part of the book club.”

  “Be honest. We are the bookclub,” Jenna clarified. “Wine, Women and Words.”

  “Very alliterative.”

  “Ooh, sweet play on words,” Char said nodding toward the others as if he’d passed some kind of test.

  “What are you guys doing here? It’s not book night. Is it?” Libby rushed to the Edward Gorey wall calendar that Coop had noticed earlier. “No. Not even the right week. What’s going on?”

  Jenna stepped up as if she'd been elected spokesperson for the group. “We’ve given you two days. We need to know. Is he the one or not? If he is, he still has to pass our approval.”

  “Or what?” Libby asked, throwing up her hands.

  “Or…” Jenna stuttered. The three looked at each other.

  Kat lifted her hand. “Or we won’t babysit when you need us.”

  “Liar,” Libby said, her tone more amused than put off.

  “We’ll only pick dry, boring literary novels when it’s our turn,” Char threatened.

  Libby looked at Cooper. “That from the queen of romance novels.”

  “Hey,” Char returned defensively. “I like them. They’re entertaining. More than I can say for that horrible book about the Middle Ages Jenna picked.”

  “Ladies,” Kat intervened. “We’re not here to talk books, remember? We’re here out of concern for our friend. Libby, we didn’t want to interfere, but when none of us heard from you, we…um…well, it’s not like we know this man. He could be—”

  “A dangerous predator,” Coop supplied. “Or a dissipated lush. A deviate. A gambler. A druggie. How would any of you know?”

  “Exactly.” Kat gave him a smile of approval then took a seat on the sofa. “Sentinel Pass is a long way from Hollywood. And there’s been some not very nice stuff written about you. Of course, there are good things, too. I even read that you gave a million dollars to help your neighbor.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would have strangled his mother if she’d been alive. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers or on the Internet. Rollie is far too proud to accept money. I check on him and make sure he remembers to buy food, but aside from trying to keep the old fart from falling victim to the kinds of scavengers who prey on the elderly, there isn’t much I can do.” Especially from here. He’d tried calling Rollie twice and only gotten the answering machine. With no return call.

  He looked at his watch and calculated the time difference. Still early by beach standards. He could try again…after the inquisition adjourned.

  “See?” Jenna crowed triumphantly. “I told you it was hype. How could we possibly know the truth without being insiders. And could you ever see that happening to any of us?”

  All three shook their heads. Libby watched with a hint of a smile on her lips. Indulgent. As she was with him at times. As if she were some spinster aunt pleasantly amused by the antics of the youngsters around her.

  This attitude bothered him. He wasn’t sure why. Or if it was something he would include in her TV character. Viewers would probably like her better if she was bubbly and engaging-–maybe a combination of all three of her friends rolled into one. But he liked the woman he glimpsed through the wall designed to keep everyone at arm’s length.

  Everyone except her niece. Watch a touching picture they’d made when Libby had picked up Megan. He’d seen her tears, too, and understood in some small part what she was feeling. Why she’d put that ad on the Internet.

  She’d make a wonderful mother, he thought at the same time he realized the four women were talking about him.

  “He does that sometimes,” Libby was telling them. “Sort of drifts off.”

  “Maybe he forgot his lines.” Char'seyes narrowed as she scrutinized him.

  “What lines?” Kat asked.

  “My point exactly. If we knew his agenda, we could decide whether or not Libby’s going to get hurt when this is all said and done. Right now he’s the only one with a script.”

  Char didn’t know how right she was, and he needed to keep things that way until it was safe for him to go home. Once his mother’s bookie had cooled off and his exes quit making threats about talking to the scandal sheets, he could go back with a solidly formed nucleus of his idea. On paper. For Shane to take apart and put back to together again.

  “I apologize for spacing out. It started happening after my mother died. Someone will say something that reminds me of her and I get sucked down memory lane. Sorry.”

  A lame excuse, but he could tell it won him some sympathy from Jenna…and Libby. Kat was hard to read-–she just looked worried. Period. And Char was still on the fence.

  He looked at her. “Wha
t do you do for a living, Char?”

  “I operate a Native American gift shop. It’s at the intersection where you turn off the main road to come to Sentinel Pass.”

  “The one with the big white tepee? Libby pointed it out. I want to see it.”

  She blinked in surprise. “There are other buildings, too. And a trailer. That’s where I live. Year-round.”

  Year-round. He’d heard Mac use that expression, too. He guessed that winters-–without an active tourist trade-–changed the makeup of the town. He needed to make a note of that for Shane.

  “Well, I know that what Libby and I are discussing is a private matter-–close friends and family not withstanding. But I bring a certain element of media attention to anything I do. So far I’ve been lucky, but there’s a chance that might change. If--” he stressed the word for Char’s benefit, “--word gets out, wouldn’t your business benefit from the new blood a few dozen news hounds might bring?”

  Kat groaned the loudest. “You just verbalized our worst fear.”

  “Your worst?”

  “Collectively. I, personally, have many others I won’t bore you with. Ever since your name came up, we’ve been stressing about what would happen if this was a publicity stunt.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.” He hoped he’d managed to put adequate self-righteousness in his tone. “This is a private matter, as I said. The only reason I’m not in disguise is that Libby told me it wasn’t necessary. Right, Lib?”

  Libby nodded. “So far nobody’s mobbed him. Except for a couple of old ladies at the airport.”

  He managed not to wince. In all honesty, he’d expected a little more fanfare. Not that his ego demanded public attention, but he was used to having people recognize him…and react. Maybe his publicist really did earn the big bucks he paid her.

  “What if they blab?” Kat asked.

  “I don’t think I told them where I live, but Barb asked about him tonight.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “That he was just passing through.”

  Cooper frowned. The truth of the statement bothered him. He wasn’t sure why. He liked the place but not enough to feel badly about leaving it. And he’d be back to film location shots if the series got picked up by a network.

  “You could say I’m here researching a new television series,” Coop tossed out. Why? He had no idea.

  The four friends looked at each other a moment then started laughing. “Set in Sentinel Pass?” Jenna made a get-real face. “Sure. Like they’d believe that.”

  “What if we say he’s looking to buy the mine?” Kat suggested.

  “Are you kidding? Nobody’s that dumb,” Char muttered.

  Libby grabbed a very large, knobby stick that had been leaning up against the wall. It looked as if it had been coated with varnish. It also looked dangerous. She held it upright like a wizard’s staff and tapped it on the floor.

  “Enough. We’ve had this discussion before, and as I told you then, the who, what and when of my plan is entirely up to me. The reason I hadn’t called to tell you about Cooper is that I haven’t made up my mind. This is important, and I want to be sure I’m doing the right thing. For everyone.”

  Her pals looked slightly abashed.

  “But I also know it’s only a matter of time before someone stumbles across my online ad and puts two and two together,” she added. “If that happens, it’s possible the media will find out, too.”

  She looked at Cooper halfway apologetically. “Hopefully by then you and I will have signed our paperwork and gone our separate ways.”

  He didn’t like the way that made him feel. Sort of used.

  Char jumped to her feet. “Okay. Sounds like you have a handle on things. Can we give her the present now? I've been invited to a sweat lodge.”

  Jenna’s mouth gaped. “A real sweatlodge? Pine logs and smoke?”

  A slight hint of red brushed across the other woman’s cheeks. “Not exactly. This one’s more like a sauna except it uses high-tech infrared technology. You still sweat, you just don’t get all stinky.”

  Coop could appreciate that, but her friends laughed as if she’d told a joke. She left in a bit of a huff, but returned a few seconds later with a brown grocery sack. "Here." She handed it to Libby.

  "It's not my birthday."

  "We know," Kat said. "It's not that kind of gift. You asked me what Rufus Miller is making and selling on the Internet. He gave me a deal, since it was for you."

  Coop remembered the man...and his apparent fondness for Libby. This gesture bothered him, but instead of trying to figure out why, he focused on the item, which Libby produced after digging through several inches of tissue paper.

  About the size and shape of an electric can opener, the object resembled a tiny house with aspen bark siding, cedar-chip shingles and no windows. The only orifice was a dime-size hole near the apex of the roof.

  "Thank you. But...what is it? A bank?" Libby asked, holding it out for Cooper to see.

  "Rufus calls them dream houses. And they're selling like mad. The idea is you write your heart's desire on a piece of paper, then roll it up and pop it through the hole."

  Jenna coughed. "We took the liberty of putting yours in it already, Lib, so don't do it again."

  "Unless you want twins," Char added.

  Libby appeared speechless, which gave Char the opportunity she needed to hug everyone--except Cooper--then leave.

  He reached for the box. Shaking it gently he heard a scratchy sound from within. The women's gesture--and the friendship behind it--was something to build into his script. Something he didn't completely understand, though.

  He set the gift to one side and faced the remaining two women. “More questions?”

  Kat drew in a deep breath before sitting forward, hands clasped between her knees. “What if one of you falls in love? Aren’t you worried about how that might complicate things?”

  She looked from him to Libby and back. “I mean, that’s not so likely to happen to you, Cooper. You’re a player. But Libby, on the other hand….”

  “Gee, thanks, Kat. Now, I feel even more unglamorous than usual.”

  “Lib, you know what I meant. He’s suave and worldly and freakishly handsome. You’re not impervious to a man’s swoo.”

  “Swoo?” Coop repeated, unfamiliar with the word.

  Libby and Jenna groaned as Kat answered. “It’s like a spell certain men cast on women that makes us do things we’d never in a million years do-–like marry them. My mama said that’s how my daddy got her knocked up, and I seem to be particularly susceptible. I got sideswiped by the swoo twice. And I can tell you have a lot of swoo.”

  “It’s called charisma,” Libby clarified for Cooper’s benefit.

  “No, Lib. It’s more than that,” Kat insisted. “Charisma wins votes. Swoo gets you laid.”

  Coop doubled over laughing. He couldn't help himself. This was priceless. A screenwriter’s dream dialogue. He couldn’t wait to get back to his cabin to text this stuff to Shane.

  Chapter 9

  The girls left twenty or so minutes later. Long enough for Libby to be fully mortified and bone-deep embarrassed. They’d recounted for Cooper her past amorous adventures so completely that the only conclusion he could possibly draw was that she was a dried-up spinster plodding along the road to Lonely Street. The only thing missing was a dozen cats.

  She leaned the talking stick against the wall, where it couldn’t fall and hurt someone, then she turned to look at Cooper, who was sitting in her father’s favorite chair, watching her.

  “I’m sorry about tonight. We didn’t get that serious talk I had planned, and now I have a bit of a headache. I think I’m going to soak in a tub, then go to bed. Okay with you?”

  His sandy-blond eyebrows lifted with a slightly rakish nuance that made her feel oxygen-deprived-–until she reminded herself that he’d probably stood in front of the mirror for six hours to achieve that look.

  “Alone.”
<
br />   “Did you ever watch the show Moonlighting? Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd. The dialogue was filled with great banter and sexual innuendo. I’m getting a sense that doesn’t work around here.”

  She didn’t agree, but she would have felt silly trying to prove that the citizens of Sentinel Pass weren’t humorless prudes. Nor did she want to admit that she’d streamed season one on her computer the day after he mentioned it an email. “I’m sorry if my friends and I somehow gave you that impression. They’re very bright women. Kat is a teacher-–well, a sub at the moment, but only because she needs a few more credits to get her credential. And Jenna is a poet. Char is a self-made entrepreneur. They wouldn’t normally butt in, but they’re worried about me. And how this will end.”

  He stood. “Oh, I know. My best friend isn’t a hundred percent behind our plan either. But he’ll come around. Do you think I passed muster with your book club?”

  By the time Kat and Jenna had left, the two had been smiling as if they’d just had an audience with the Pope. “They’ll call tomorrow with their vote, but I’m guessing you won them over.”

  He walked toward her. “Good. Being a single parent isn’t easy, from what I’ve heard, and I imagine it would be even harder without their support. What do you think people would say if they found out why I’m here?”

  “Honestly? I think there’d be a lot of talk about how pathetic I am. Poor, desperate Libby. No chance at a normal life.” She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter, but her tongue curled in distaste after the words had passed over it.

  “Normal? What’s that? I’ve been married and divorced twice. My mother would say that proves you’re smarter than me because you didn’t rush into a relationship that anyone could see was bound to end poorly.”

  Even though his expression remained relaxed, she heard a quality in his tone that conveyed hurt. Had his mother said something that brutal to his face? How awful.

  “At least you experienced the rush of falling in love. I can’t say that’s ever happened to me.” She immediately regretted sharing the kind of truth one told girlfriends, not the guy whose sperm one wanted to buy.