don't tell many people. I just--That's a lovely custom," she said, pointing at the doll again, then fumbling for a tissue in her jacket pocket.
To Lisa's surprise, Christine turned to her and rested her big, strong hands on her shoulders. Lisa stiffened. Were they hands that had pushed her down the ridge into the river? Here, Lisa thought, she'd meant to draw this woman out to find out more about her past and she'd blurted out the defining moment--besides Mitch deserting her--of her own. She had to pull herself together and get down to see him.
"I'm sure you have things to get ready in the kitchen," she told Christine, swiping her tears from under her eyes as the woman pulled her hands back. "I--If you don't mind, I'll just stay in here a few minutes."
"Having some time to yourself can help," Christine said with a solemn nod. "But being alone too much does not work in the long run. Here in Alaska, with so few folks for so many wide-open spaces, people need each other."
"Yes, I see that, and not just because I would never have survived without Mitch in the river and the wilds. People here seem to have time for each other, back to the basics of living and friendship somehow. They seem open, honest and trustworthy."
She studied the striking woman to see if there would be a flicker of uneasiness, guilt, even shame over what she'd just heard. But Lisa saw none of that in her face, body language or demeanor. And in trying to trap Christine, Lisa realized she'd been deceptive herself and that she truly believed what she'd said about the Alaskans she'd met so far.
Christine's gaze remained steady; she even nodded in understanding that made Lisa not mistrust this woman so much as her own past. Had she been superficial with others, too busy or afraid of loss to build deep relationships, maybe even with Mitch? And then, had she shut herself off even more when, like her mother and sister, he'd left her? Now she was suspicious of almost everyone here, when she wanted to be able to trust people more.
"I've gotta admit," Christine said in a soft, steady voice, "despite some problems I've had, this lodge and this wilderness is right where I want to be and stay."
Was that an inadvertent admission Christine had decided not to be alone and to protect her place here with Mitch at any cost? Was it a carefully, softly delivered threat, or was it more Alaskan straight talk, real life?
Here Lisa had been planning to accuse this woman to Mitch and she was coming to trust and like her. But then, she'd once felt the same way about the other suspects, too.
After Christine left her alone with only the dolls watching her, Lisa dried her eyes and blew her nose. She hoped Mitch was still waiting below for her, if he was down there at all. He had responsibilities and needed to keep all his guests happy--even the one he was trying to expose.
She opened the narrow wooden door a crack. A breath of chill air and wan light emanated from below. "Mitch?"
"Be careful on the steps." His voice floated to her.
She saw the steps were actually large notches cut from a big, debarked tree trunk that slanted downward in a narrow passageway of hewn stone. The more she saw and learned about Duck Lake Lodge, the more she wished she'd known Mitch's uncle John, the man who had left him this precious heritage.
She closed the door behind her and descended, keeping her hand on the cool, rough stone wall since there was no banister. Mitch appeared at the bottom of the steps and gave her a hand.
"I used to love this hideaway when I was a kid," he told her. "I don't share it with many people."
She wondered if Christine had been down here, but of course, the chef and housekeeper could well have been. She saw the three walls of shelves were lit from behind. They were not tight to the stone walls but had space for a person to squeeze in behind, either to access wine bottles from both sides or to keep them dry if the walls were damp or cold. He gestured for her to follow him around a shelf, and she was in awe. It was like being in a dim cave with huge, backlit sparkling gems studding the stone. Or as if they were being watched by glowing ogre