Lily and the Lawman

by Marie Ferrarella

  “There’s that tone again,” he chided. Her profile was toward him and he saw her purse her lips in what he took to be a petulant expression. He bet she could throw tantrums with the best of them. “Try smiling for a change. They’re not a bad lot when you get to know them. Most folks around here are willing to meet you more than halfway.”

  She turned around to face him squarely. “Maybe I don’t want to make the trip.”

  Max figured he’d done all he could for now. Sometimes, it was better just to retreat than to hang around and get yourself chewed up.

  “Then, lady,” he told her, turning on his heel, “it’s your loss.”

  She hadn’t expected him to walk away just like that. She’d expected him to try to convince her. Perturbed, Lily stared after his retreating back even as it was being swallowed up within the crowd.

  “Hey, Lily, what’s your pleasure?” Ike LeBlanc called out to her from behind the bar he still enjoyed manning on occasion.

  She could still make out a little of Max’s departing back. Her real pleasure would be pounding on it. With effort, she roused herself, wondering what it was about that man that brought out the worst in her.

  Smiling again, she turned toward Ike. “Wine,” she said. “White.”

  “White wine it is, darlin’.” Ike reached behind the counter for a bottle of his best.

  As he poured her a glass, he smiled to himself. Aside from being an entrepreneur, he read people for a living. He could read Lily Quintano with little effort and he’d had Max’s number for a while now. This looked like it had the makings of a rather stimulating tale.

  Chapter Five

  Lily had been trying to work her way back to the kitchen for the last fifteen minutes, but every time she found an opportunity, someone would start talking to her.

  She had to admit that this was an incredibly friendly place. The people here were more gregarious and colorful than the regulars who frequented her restaurant.

  At the moment, she was talking to Max’s grandmother, Ursula, who, at seventy-two, seemed to possess more energy than she did. More accurately put, Ursula was talking to her. The older woman was extolling the virtues of living in Hades. Or maybe she was talking about Max, Lily wasn’t sure.

  In either case, she really wasn’t all that interested. Max had been swallowed up by the crowd. The only time she’d seen him this past hour he was with a rather nubile-looking blonde, barely out of high school, who was hanging on his arm and his every word.

  Probably did a lot to feed his ego. Well, if he was that shallow, she was glad he’d walked away when he had. She was through with shallow men.

  Through with men entirely, she reminded herself.

  The commotion coming from the direction of the kitchen caught Lily’s attention. Turning, all she could see was that the door was open. The next moment, she heard Ike’s voice.

  “Careful, hot stuff, coming through. Hot stuff. Don’t mean you, little darlin”’ he said, winking at her.

  Lily realized that she was directly in the way of the tables that had been placed end to end against the far wall. Ike was carrying one long, rectangular pan filled to the brim with the spareribs she’d made. He looked as if the pot holders he was using were beginning to allow the heat to come through to his hands.

  “Back off, barbarians, until Luc and I set these pans down.” His booming voice rose above the din. He sidled by her. “I’d step out of the way if I were you, darlin’ or they’ll wind up taking a bite out of you in their feeding frenzy.”

  Lily moved as far back as she could from the main source of activity. She realized that she was smiling. Again.

  Contrary to all her expectations, the evening had gone fairly pleasantly. The only other time she’d been here, it was for Alison’s wedding and then Allen had monopolized her to the exclusion of almost everyone else. He’d spent most of the two days they stayed in Hades pointing out everyone else’s foibles and looking down his nose at their lifestyle.

  She hadn’t thought very much about it at the time, but now she realized that at least some of his opinions had tainted her own.

  She knew better, damn it. What had she been thinking?

  Unlike Allen, her own roots had been on the humble side. If not for a few good breaks and a selfless older brother, not to mention the strong, supportive family network the four of them maintained, who knew how she would have wound up? Who was to say that she wouldn’t have been on the far side of poor, struggling to make ends meet, satisfied with little, the way she knew at least some of these people had to be?

  She wrapped her fingers around the almost-empty glass of wine she was still holding. Now that she thought of it, she was satisfied with little. She had no extravagances, no long-range goals other than improving the restaurant. Her closet wasn’t teeming with expensive clothes and there was no jewelry overflowing the small jewelry box on her bureau, just a few choice pieces left to her by her mother.

  And an engagement ring that she intended to sell the first chance she got.

  There was no Mercedes in her garage, nor was her address an exclusive one in the trendiest section of Seattle, just fairly upscale.

  She did, however, have to admit that she enjoyed being a success and Lily’s had given her that. It felt good to succeed at something, she thought, lifting the glass to her lips and taking one last sip.

  The pans deposited on the tables, Ike and Luc no sooner stepped back than the locals who filled the Salty swarmed around the food.

  “Wow, look at them. You’d think they hadn’t eaten in days,” Ike marveled.

  Plates and napkins had been forsaken in a bid to score more of the ribs before they were gone. Everyone was trying to get their share.

  Lily smiled. Watching what amounted to a silent tribute did her heart good. Nothing like approval, she thought. At least she knew how to do this, how to set a person’s taste buds on end so that they almost sat up and begged.

  “Maybe it has something to do with the way it tastes and not their starvation level,” she suggested to Ike.

  Ike laughed good-naturedly at the correction. “Only one way to find out.”

  Elbowing his way into the fray, Ike plucked one rib out for himself. It took more doing than he anticipated. Having won his piece, he took a bite. The easygoing grin on his face changed to a look of amazement. He ate slowly, savoring, experiencing. When the rib was picked clean, he looked at Lily, genuine respect and admiration in his eyes.

  “Darlin’, if I wasn’t already a happily married man, I’d drop down on one knee and beg for your hand—as long as the other hand was stirring a pot of this sauce.” He looked at the denuded piece in his hand, his mouth watering for another. “What is it?”

  “Exclusive,” Lily replied, her eyes dancing. While she had expected the taste to knock his socks off, she hadn’t known whether or not the man would be willing to admit it. She liked his openness.

  Pretending to sidle up to her, Ike raised and lowered his brows like a villain from an old-fashioned melodrama. “I couldn’t perhaps talk you into parting with the recipe, could I?”

  Tickled, Lily laughed and shook her head. “No.”

  “It’s something she came up with after a lot of trial and error,” Jimmy volunteered, coming up beside her. “Lily’d sooner part with a kidney than tell you what she puts into her barbecue sauce.”

  Isaac materialized not too far from the discussion they were having. “It’s got cayenne pepper in it,” he offered.

  Ike nodded. “That’s a start.”

  Lily turned in the little man’s direction. “Not nearly enough cayenne pepper right now,” she reminded him.

  He gave her a contrite, sorrowful look.

  She suddenly felt guilty about her earlier testiness. She supposed her mood could be attributed to a whole combination of things. Less than an hour ago, her self-esteem had been in tatters. After all, it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that she’d spent her affection on the wrong man. What was more, she�
��d come to the painful realization that there probably wasn’t a right man out there, at least, not for her.

  She knew she wasn’t the easiest woman to live with and if the tables were turned, she probably wouldn’t have wanted to put up with a male version of herself. But all the same, she was who she was and at least her heart was in the right place when it came to her family and handful of friends.

  Just not when it came to romance.

  Perhaps she could blame her change of heart on the wine, or the fact that there was little to no air in the place, or that her efforts were being so wholeheartedly appreciated. Whatever the reason, she was feeling magnanimous. And that meant an apology was in order.

  “I’m sorry, Isaac,” she said, surprising those around her who knew and loved Lily. “I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier. It’s just that—”

  “She gets surly in the kitchen if everything isn’t going right,” Alison confided to the bewildered little man.

  “Not surly,” Lily objected. Couldn’t her sister use a more flattering, compassionate word?

  “Surly,” Max attested, coming up behind her.

  The sound of his voice caught her off guard and Lily turned suddenly, surprised at how close he was. She knocked against his hand. The hand that was holding the remainder of the sparerib he’d gotten for himself. Apparently, whatever their differences were, they didn’t prevent him from eating what she’d made.

  There was a mess on his chest where the sparerib had blotted itself. Embarrassed, Lily tried to make light of the situation and her clumsiness—which wouldn’t have happened if the man hadn’t snuck up on her like that. “I guess that sparerib sauce doesn’t go all that well with a sheriff’s badge, does it?”

  He shrugged, looking down at the splotch of rust-colored sauce on his chest and badge. “I dunno, maybe you’ve found a new way to polish it. People use toothpaste on jewelry.”

  Finishing off the last bit of meat from the bone, Max reached around her and placed it on the plate set aside to collect the remains. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his fingers and his lips.

  Lily tried not to watch his every move, not really knowing why she was doing it in the first place. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t spend time cleaning jewelry.”

  He’d already noticed that except for a small gold cross and the hoops that swayed at her ears with every move she made, Lily wasn’t wearing any jewelry. The big, gaudy diamond that had resided on her left ring finger the last time she’d been here was gone.

  “How about hair?” he asked.

  Perfectly arched brows came together in confusion. The other people in the wide saloon faded away for her. “What?”

  He nodded at the back of her head. “You’ve got some of the sauce in your hair.”

  Eyes widening in surprise and horror, Lily reached behind her to see if Max was putting her on. He wasn’t. Her hand came in contact with something messy.

  “Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. Now what?

  “C’mon,” he volunteered, “you can clean that off in the kitchen.” He glanced up toward the swinging door. It looked like a good part of the crowd had shifted there in hopes of more food emerging from the ovens. He shook his head. He’d never seen the miners behave this way. But then, he had to admit she made a hell of a mean sauce. “If you can get near it,” he qualified, doubtful that she could. “Looks like the vultures are circling the area, scavenging for seconds.”

  “I used all the ribs you had,” she told Ike. If he’d placed them all in the pans, then they were out of luck.

  It was clear that he’d made a mistake in his order. “There are usually a lot of leftovers,” Ike told her. “But then, I guess this crowd has never sampled your sauce before.”

  Max saw her beaming at the compliment. Taking her empty wineglass, he placed it next to the plate filled with bones and took her hand. Closing his fingers around it, he began to thread his way to the side of the saloon. Once there, he started to lead her up a staircase she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Where are you taking me?” she shouted so that he could hear.

  He didn’t feel like shouting, so he made no answer. At the top of the stairs, Max veered to the left and opened a door for her.

  “Ike and Luc used to live here before they married Marta and Alison and moved into houses of their own. They still keep this open for any of the locals who have a little too much to drink and can’t drive home.”

  She thought of the wide, empty space surrounding the Salty. It wasn’t as if anyone driving slightly inebriated was likely to incur even moderate traffic, or another vehicle for that matter.

  “What could they possibly hit?”

  Spoken like a woman from the big city. “You’d be surprised.” He gave her only a few particulars. “Jake Zoltif ran into a moose. Pete Carney drove his car right into a snow drift, got out and started wandering around. It took us almost two days to find him. Lucky it was early May or he might have froze to death. Ike and Luc feel better if their patrons don’t run the risk of hurting themselves or the wildlife, so they maintain beds up here.”

  She looked into the small room with its three beds all made up and no one in them. Something quickened within her.

  Had he brought her up here to seduce her?

  Lily tried to pull her hand away. “I don’t need a bed.”

  “No, no one said you did. But you could use some water and they’ve got a bathroom up here,” he replied, unfazed by her implication. He opened the door to the tiny facility and gestured toward it. “It’s not exactly the latest thing, but the water runs and the toilet flushes, sometimes even at the same time,” he added with a grin.

  Embarrassed by what she’d been thinking, she avoided his eyes and muttered, “Thank you,” as she passed him and went in.

  Holding her hair up over her head, Lily looked in the mirror, trying to locate the offending glob of sauce.

  Shaking his head, Max came to her rescue. “You’re not going to see it that way. It’s right here.” He touched the spot that was against the nape of her neck. “Here, I’ll get it for you,” he volunteered, knowing that she’d either need eyes in the back of her head or another mirror to see it properly. As far as he could tell, she had neither.

  Turning on the water, Max took the washcloth from the tiny towel rack on the side of the sink and held a corner of it under the faucet. Satisfied that it was wet enough, he started to wipe the discolored area of her hair.

  Self-conscious, Lily tried to reach for the cloth. “I can—”

  “Hold still,” he chided. “I’ve got two sisters, one on either side of me. I know what I’m doing.”

  The strokes were slow, sure. Soft, when she’d expected him to be heavy-handed, like a bear pawing at a cache of just-discovered honey.

  Lily was surprised that he could be so gentle. He didn’t seem the type. Raising her eyes, she studied his face in the mirror. Max looked completely absorbed in what he was doing.

  Something stirred inside her and she banked it down, knowing it had happened only because of her vulnerability.

  Seeing Alison with her husband and Jimmy with his wife had created an ache within her, a cry that echoed, Why not me, too? But that was brought on just by the moment. She already knew the answer. She wasn’t like them, and her needs were different. Most of all, she didn’t want a man she could overpower, overrule. But anyone who would stand up to her would try to put her in her place and she didn’t want that, either.

  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, she thought with a touch of sadness.

  She was destined to live and die as exactly as what she was, a workaholic.

  At least she had a family she could lavish attention on, she consoled herself.

  She continued to watch Max work. Who would have thought that hands that large, that strong, could be so gentle? “Your sisters get sauce in their hair often?”

  He raised his eyes and met hers in the mirror. For a second, he stopped cleaning. And then his pulse started again a
nd he pretended not to notice that looking into her eyes had taken his breath away.

  “Not sauce,” he corrected, “gum.” He remembered several incidents and the time that his grandmother had actually used soap to wash out June’s mouth. He still didn’t know where she, at eight years old, had picked up that kind of language. It had been an unspoken town rule that miners never swore around children.

  “Gum?”

  “June is—was,” he amended, although he wasn’t altogether sure the term he was about to use didn’t still apply to his sister, seeing as how she wore motor oil as easily as some girls wore cologne, “a tomboy. She got gum stuck in her hair more than once.” And screamed blue murder when he worked to get it out. He had more patience with June than April did. Probably because he thought of her as a little doll while April had her pegged for what she was, a holy terror.

  Okay, she’d play along with this homey scenario for argument’s sake. “How did you—”

  “I used peanut butter,” he said matter-of-factly.

  That impressed her. She thought of her own big brother, knowing how lost she would have been without Kevin and how much she and the others loved him. Maybe this frontier sheriff on an ice floe really wasn’t such a barbarian, after all.

  “There,” he announced, putting the washcloth down on the rim of the sink. “You’re sauceless again.” Max peered at his handiwork. “Basically,” he added under his breath.

  Lily turned around to face him. The small, pedestal sink was at her back, eating up most of the closet-like space.

  This was too close for comfort. Her mouth felt drier than it should have. Other parts weren’t dry at all. Such as the palms of her hands. Unconsciously, she rubbed her fingers along them.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, doing her best to sound authoritative.

  The small words had him smiling at her. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  She was instantly on the defensive. She liked it better that way. Her chin rose in a silent challenge. “Am I being chided again?”

  God, but she took offense fast. “Funny, I thought it was a compliment.”