She didn’t mention the fact that it had enough candles around to supply three Italian restaurants and a bordello.
“Well, enjoy your stay. Feel free to use the fireplace. Gets cool at night.” He spun the chair and eased down the ramp, bouncing over a few feet of sunbaked lawn to a dusty white van parked next to her Malibu. Sarah was curious about how he managed to get into the vehicle on his own, but it felt weird to watch and besides, she just wanted him gone. He’d brought back too many memories—of high school, of Roy, and of Flash.
She glanced down at her watch. She’d been in Two Shot all of an hour and already the past was coming back to haunt her.
As soon as he was gone, she hauled her luggage out of the car and carried her overnight bag up a rough staircase made of halved logs. The loft was just big enough for a queen-sized bed. With slanted ceilings and a curtained window under a peaked eave, it felt like a sanctuary. She shucked off her work clothes and pulled on her favorite pair of yoga pants, then slipped on a tank top and hoodie.
Trotting downstairs, she sank into the overstuffed cushions and stared at the fireplace. It was hardly the right time of year for a fire, but dancing flames would add a nice, cozy touch. Maybe coming back to Two Shot wouldn’t be so bad with a place like this to stay. All that was missing was someone to enjoy it with.
She gave herself a mental slap as an image of Lane appeared in the back of her mind. That “someone” needed to be someone who wasn’t a rodeo cowboy, didn’t spend half his life on the road, and didn’t accuse her of having an affair with his brother.
She eyed the kindling stacked under three massive logs inside the fireplace. A cylindrical box of extra-long matches beside it was a clear invitation.
Come on baby, light my fire.
Striking a match on the rough stone hearth, she held the flame to the kindling and watched the wood catch and burn.
With the match still flaring in her hand, she eased to her feet and lit a pyramid of candles on the mantel, then moved to the coffee table and lit a few more that were interspersed with round river rocks on a tray. The room jumped to life in the gentle flicker of flames, but there were deep shadows in the corners that spooked her a little. Getting out another match, she lit a few more candles and the shadows melted away.
Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out a file on energy law she’d printed out from the Wyoming legislative website. Flicking on a lamp with a copper-colored shade, she settled down on the sofa to read. She’d just cover a little bit of the material. Just enough so she could think about strategies while she got ready for bed. That would take her mind off Two Shot. And Lane.
She adjusted a pillow under her head and started reading. Some people would fall asleep over something as dull as a regulatory bill on oil drilling and exploration, but Sarah was always interested in legislation that affected her work. The legal language was a little obscure sometimes, but it was like a puzzle, trying to figure out how the law would change the way the company made decisions and the way she’d approach the locals about the drilling… it was fascinating, really… fascinating…
Half an hour later, she blinked her eyes open to see the fire reduced to a heap of embers. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced around at the candles. Several had burned down to stubs, and one was just a guttering pool of wax melted into the river rocks. Rising, she turned out the lamp and blew out the ones on the coffee table. Even in her sleep-subdued state, she couldn’t help pausing to appreciate the way the room looked with just the candles on the mantel and the few lighting the corners.
Appreciation only lasted for a second before she realized the candles on the mantel were perilously close to an Indian weaving that hung on the stone wall above the fireplace. How had she not noticed that when she lit them?
She stood up on her tiptoes to blow them out and had the crazy thought that she should make a wish, like a kid with a birthday cake. What would