Spider’s anxious face hovered in front of me, and I rolled my stiff shoulders and got up. “I’m out of here. I’m going over to the Greenhorn for lunch. Do you want to come?”
“No, I have to get some other work done, so I’m heading over to the shared office. Kane will meet you back here and take over the signalling device for the afternoon.”
“Okay. Are you working tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “Usually not on weekends. But if you want to come in, I could, too.”
“No, it’s okay. I could use a break.” I shuffled toward the door, massaging my head.
“I think that’d be a good idea,” Spider agreed.
I turned away from the concern in his eyes. “Okay, have a good weekend.”
I climbed the stairs, envying him the opportunity to work in natural light and real air. By the time I escaped the confines of the time-delay chamber, my hands were shaking and I gulped the outside air hungrily.
At the Greenhorn, the trembling didn’t seem to want to subside while I stood in the lineup waiting my turn to order. When I reached the head of the line, Jeff’s face lit up. “Aydan, hi! Good news, you won!”
I smiled at him uncertainly, racking my tired brain. “Hi, Jeff. Um... won what?”
“The raffle for the firefighters.”
“Oh!” The previous Monday seemed aeons in the past. I’d forgotten I’d even bought a ticket. “What did I win?”
“A firefighter.”
“What?” I stared at his grinning face, nonplussed.
He laughed. “I told you, it was a raffle for the firefighters.”
“Yeah, but...”
I realized I was holding up the line while I gaped at him. “Um, let’s talk about this later. I should order.”
I gave him my food order and wandered dazedly over to my usual corner table, mentally kicking myself. Dammit, I knew better than to sign up for something without reading the fine print.
As I stared into space, my eyes gradually focused on a colourful poster pinned to the bulletin board next to the door. ‘Firefighters Raffle’, said the headline.
I got up and drifted over to read the smaller print below. ‘Win a date with a firefighter’. Oh, shit. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I couldn’t back out now. Jeff and Donna would be disappointed if I did.
I relaxed as I read further down the poster. A ticket had been drawn corresponding to each of the local volunteer firemen, and the ‘date’ was a dinner sponsored by the Greenhorn and Blue Eddy’s. All the firemen and their dates would attend together.
Thank God.
I trailed back to my chair and sank into it with relief. Jeff and Donna had a knack for organizing successful events, and it seemed this would be no exception. Jeff had already told me the local volunteer firefighters were a motley crew of all ages and shapes and sizes. This would be good clean fun, nothing more.
I glanced up as Donna placed my plate in front of me. “So who did I win?”
“Tom Rossburn.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know him.”
“He’s a good guy. You’ll like him.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Just come here tomorrow at five-thirty. Unless you want him to pick you up?” I shook my head, and she continued. “We’re doing the dinner here. Dress western. It’s Stampede time down in Calgary, so we’re going with that theme.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all. I hate making conversation with strangers, but I could get through a dinner. I wouldn’t even have to dress up. Life was good.
I finished my delicious meal and hoisted myself out of the chair. Usually food made everything better, but I still felt weak and shaky when I headed for the door.
Back at Sirius, the hand tremor intensified while I waited in the time-delay. I switched to belly breathing, willing calm. A muscle jumped in my cheek while I walked down the sterile hallway to Spider’s lab.
Kane looked up when I tapped on the door. “Hi, Aydan.” He searched my face. “You look like you’ve had a tough week.”
I shrugged. “Same old, same old. I’d better get used to it. Are you ready for an afternoon of paralyzing boredom, waiting to press the button on that signalling device?”
He laughed. “In my life, paralyzing boredom is a nice change. I’ve brought some paperwork so I’ll be able to entertain myself.”
“You sure know how to have a good time.” I flopped into my chair. “Could you signal me in about an hour and half? I tend to lose track of time when I’m in there.”
“All right.” I caught the tail end of his nod as I closed my eyes and stepped into the network void.
It took me a few seconds to summon up the virtual corridor. Even in the sim, my avatar body felt sore and exhausted, and my brain responded sluggishly to my efforts to control the sim.
When the blip finally signalled the end of my day, I crept out the virtual portal feeling as though every ounce of blood had been sucked from my body.
Pain slammed through my head, and it took all my willpower not to curl into a ball and weep helplessly. I squelched the impulse and belted out a few good solid profanities instead. The last curse ended with a whimper, so I shut up and rocked back and forth instead.
The strong, warm hands massaging my head and neck brought tears anyway. I wiped them away under the guise of rubbing my aching eyes while I slumped forward, relaxing under Kane’s ministrations.
Finally, I groaned relief and sat up. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He squatted in front of my chair and looked into my face. “You need to get some rest. Don’t push so hard.”
“I’ll get a break this weekend. I’m just tired because I haven’t been sleeping well.”
He eyed me dubiously. “All right. Let’s get you out of here.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Home at last, I walked out past the house and up the hill to the high land. I lowered myself into the rustling grass at the edge of the hay field and let out a long breath.
The wide vista of farmland opened below me, the big Alberta sky arching above. The breeze carried the warm sweet scent of alfalfa to me while the sun scorched my back. I let the song of the insects lull me into a trance, easing the week’s tension out of my muscles.
A movement on the distant hill caught my eye as a lone horseman rode silhouetted against the sky. He moved purposefully along his fence line, and I smiled. I’d seen him a couple of times before. He could probably see me, too, but we’d never acknowledged each other’s presence. I appreciated his respect for my privacy. Or his indifference. Either way, it worked for me.
When my growling stomach finally drove me down from my perch, I felt much better. A good supper and the knowledge that I didn’t have to go to Sirius the next day made my spirits rise even more. I puttered away the evening in my garden and slept reasonably well for the first time all week.
I spent a leisurely Saturday morning and afternoon doing a few easy chores around the house. By the time five o’clock rolled around, I was heartily regretting my commitment to Jeff and Donna’s fundraiser.
I sighed and headed for my closet. Thank God I could wear comfortable clothes. I put on a pair of my better blue jeans and topped them with a soft brown plaid sleeveless shirt with western detailing. I brushed my hair out and left it loose, then eyed my cowboy hat. Nah. No need to go overboard. I slid my feet into my battered, comfortable western boots and headed for the door.
When I arrived at the Greenhorn, I sidled in and took stock of the people packed into the tiny cafe. I wasn’t sure how many volunteer firefighters a small town like this normally had, but apparently there were at least a dozen, along with the women who would be their dates.
I felt underdressed when I surveyed the other chattering women. Their outfits ranged from bright western shirts and elaborately beaded jeans to full skirts and dangling jewellery. My hand went to my ear. Shit, I hadn’t even changed out of the plain stainless steel studs
I usually wore. And the only makeup I had on was lip balm.
Oh well, story of my life. At least this wasn’t a real date. No pressure. I sighed, wondering how long I’d have to stay before I could make a graceful exit.
“Aydan!” Linda waved to me from across the room.
I made my way over. “Another lucky winner,” I greeted her. “I’m glad there’s somebody here I know.”
“You don’t know anybody?” She grabbed my hand. “Come and meet everybody, then.” A few minutes later, I was surrounded by a jovial crowd while I struggled to remember the barrage of names.
Everyone seemed in high spirits, and I relaxed while the jokes flew. This might turn out to be fun after all.
Chapter 9
At six o’clock, a shrill whistle split the babble of voices. The group quieted and turned to Jeff, who stood on a chair near the counter. Donna and Blue Eddy stood beside him, all of them incongruously attired in dark formalwear.
I realized that while we had been laughing and chatting, the Greenhorn’s tiny tables had been draped in white linen, and sparkling plates and stemware had been set out. Each table sported a single red rose in a tall vase. Once again, Jeff and Donna had outdone themselves.
“Welcome, everyone,” Jeff declaimed. “We’re going to get this show on the road, so it’s time to pair up the dates. And now for our first firefighter: Chief Wally Nodell!”
A grinning white-haired man with a spectacular handlebar moustache strode to the front of the room and turned to face the crowd, which promptly erupted in cheers and shouts of friendly abuse.
His western wear was of the authentic variety, faded and scuffed from long hours of daily use. He slapped his hands against his keg-like gut. “What lucky lady wants some of this?” he bellowed good-naturedly. The crowd roared and stomped its approval, and Jeff whistled again to get our attention.
“And Wally’s lucky date is... Linda Burton!”
Linda bounced up to the front amid laughter and cheers, and Wally swept her a magnificent bow. “I’d say it’s like dating my daughter, but you’re not quite old enough,” he chuckled. The crowd whooped and applauded while they proceeded arm in arm to their table.
The next several firefighters were introduced to somewhat more decorous applause, but everyone was clearly there for fun. Laughter and friendly insults abounded as each man was matched up with his date; or mismatched, as was more frequently the case. Jeff hadn’t been kidding. They really were all ages and shapes and sizes.
“Tom Rossburn!”
I scanned the crowd, wondering who I’d be paired with. A tall, lean figure detached itself from the wall and strode unhurriedly to the front. I caught a glimpse of short brown hair and a blue denim shirt as he made his way through the crowd. When he reached the front, he turned and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops while he surveyed the room with a crooked smile.
I felt my eyebrows go up at the realization that he was one of the better-looking men there. Not killer handsome, but a lean, good-natured face with blue eyes framed by the kind of wrinkles that only come from long hours squinting into sun and wind. His shoulders were broad without being bulky, and his rolled-up shirtsleeves showed tanned, sinewy forearms. Working muscle, not gym muscle. His jeans and boots were pleasantly faded and well-worn.
“Aydan Kelly!”
I started at the sound of my name and tried for a pleasant expression while I made my way up to the front. The crowd applauded politely as he stuck out his hand with a smile. I took it and accepted a firm handshake, his callused palm rasping against mine. He offered his arm, and we paraded ceremoniously off to our table in the corner.
“Nice to finally meet you, Aydan,” he said as we settled ourselves in the chairs.
“Nice to meet you, too, Tom,” I replied. “Um... what do you mean, finally?”
He leaned back comfortably in his chair and smiled. “I think we’re neighbours.”
“Oh? Where do you live?”
“Six miles west and two miles north of the stoplight.”
Like small towns everywhere, directions originated at the town’s single stoplight. I did the math.
“Oh, we are neighbours, then. I’m three miles north.”
“I thought so. I’ve seen you sitting out on the edge of the field a few times. I couldn’t see your face at that distance, but your hair’s easy to spot. It streams out like a copper banner when the wind blows.”
The poetic phrase was incongruous with his down-home appearance, and I hesitated, distracted, before I made the connection. “Oh, you ride your fence line on horseback sometimes.”
“That’s me. You just moved in the spring, didn’t you? How do you like your new place?”
“Yes, I came in March. And I absolutely love it. I lived far too many years in the city. It’s so good to be out in the country again.”
“You’re a country girl at heart?”
“I grew up on a farm. I lived in the city the whole time I was married, but when my husband died two years ago, I was ready to get out. There was nothing there for me anymore.”
He nodded slowly. “I’m sorry for your loss. It’s a little unusual for a woman to move out to the country alone, though, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
I grinned at him. “I’m a freak.”
He laughed. “I’d say ‘interesting’.” He eyed me for a few seconds before seeming to come to a decision. “I heard you had some troubles back in March.”
Shit. Damn small towns.
“Yeah.”
“I must have heard the rumour wrong,” he said slowly. “I heard you’d had some trouble with your ex-husband, and you ended up in the hospital. But you said just now that you’re widowed.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The psycho ex-husband had been my cover story back in March, when I’d run afoul of Fuzzy Bunny for the first time. I really didn’t want to repeat the lie, but I didn’t see that I had much choice.
“Unfortunately, widowed and divorced are not mutually exclusive. The problems were with my first husband. They’re all taken care of now. He won’t bother me again. I’m widowed from my second husband.”
His face cleared. “That explains it. Well, I’m sorry you had a problem. If you ever need any help, don’t forget you have neighbours.”
“Thanks, Tom. That’s another thing I missed about living in the country.”
Our conversation meandered easily over farming life while Jeff, Donna, and Eddy served a delicious four-course meal, dessert, and coffee. We discovered a common love of cars, and we were deep in a discussion of Chevy big-blocks when Jeff’s whistle pierced the air again.
“Folks, thanks for coming,” he addressed the crowd. “This is the end of the official part of our fundraiser, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Or if you’re interested, there’s a dance out at the community hall, and Eddy here has generously covered your admission. So go, enjoy, and thanks again for supporting our firefighters.”
The murmur of conversation started again, accompanied by the sound of chairs being pushed back as a few people began to drift toward the exit.
Tom gave me his attractively crooked smile again. “What do you say? Do you want to go to the dance?”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” I told him regretfully. “I enjoy it, but I don’t know any dances besides a waltz and a polka.”
“You don’t know how to two-step?” He regarded me with mock horror. “Ma’am, ya cain’t live in the country if ya cain’t two-step,” he drawled.
“Damn. So you’re telling me I’m going to get ridden out on a rail?”
The weathered skin around his eyes crinkled into the kind of laugh lines that never failed to captivate me. “Your only escape is if you come to the dance with me. I’ll teach you.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into. I’m a dangerous woman around unprotected toes.”
He laughed and rose. “I’ll take the chance.”
I shrugged and got up with him. “Your loss
. I hope your insurance is paid up.”
He ushered me out the door. “Do you know where the community hall is?”
“I think so.”
“If you want, I could drive us over and then bring you back here to pick up your car afterward. It’d save us taking two vehicles.”
I considered that for a moment. I’ve never been particularly trusting, and the last several months hadn’t helped.
But it wasn’t like I was going off with a stranger into the middle of nowhere. The community hall was only a few minutes’ drive away, and everyone at the fundraiser had seen us together. He’d have to be downright stupid to attack me. And despite his laid-back country-boy appearance, our dinner conversation had proven he was definitely not stupid.
I looked up at him in the long rays of the evening sun, realizing he was watching me quietly. “Okay, that sounds good,” I agreed.
His crooked smile came back as he guided me to a four-wheel-drive pickup truck and opened the door for me.
We arrived at the hall without incident, and I duly learned to two-step amid much laughter and teasing from the friendly group. I even allowed myself a single beer early in the evening. I was pretty sure I’d burn it off before it was time to drive home.
The hours flew by while we laughed and danced to the music of the talented local band. Finally, the lights came up and the band began to pack away their instruments.
Tom chuckled. “I guess we’ve closed it down. Come on, I’ll take you back to your car.”
Our conversation flowed easily on the short drive. Back in the deserted parking lot at the Greenhorn, I turned to him in the dimness. “Tom, thank you. I had so much fun.”
And it was true. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d relaxed and enjoyed an evening on the town. No pressure, no agenda, no spying, no threat of torture or death.
I sighed inwardly at the realization that those threats were likely to be part of my life for the foreseeable future, but put the thought away and smiled at him. “More fun than I’ve had in a long time.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. “You looked so sad for a second there,” he explained when I raised a puzzled eyebrow.
Reach For the Spy Page 5
