For so many reasons.
“Lydia, are you okay?” he asked again.
“Absolutely.” She gave him a passing smile and picked up something off the corner of the desk. “So here’s the map.”
As she flattened the folds, he watched her hair fall forward. She hadn’t pulled it back this morning and he liked the way the dull overhead light somehow brought out its various colors.
“So there’s the main trail that goes around the bowl, as we call it.” Her finger traced a brown line marked with intermittent yellow stars in an arc around the lake. “Although there are smaller trails spidering all over our western face, we really have to keep after this main one—particularly where it’s intersected by the two rivers that flow down from the summit, as well as the big branching stream that splits off here.” She tapped the map in various places. “The three bridges are marked as you can see and they all need some shoring up. We’ve got loose boards, and some rot on the handrails. I also want you to assess the structural integrity of the supports? When it comes to repairing them, I know there’s some lumber in the shed—and if you could use what we have first, that would be great, even if it doesn’t look perfect. We’re kind of into pinching pennies around here—”
“You look like hell. You didn’t sleep last night, did you.”
Lydia glanced up sharply. “I … ah, of course I did. Like a baby.”
“So what’d the other guy look like?”
She shook her head as if he were speaking in a foreign language. “I’m sorry, what?”
“In that bar fight you won. That has to be the explanation for those dark circles.”
She laughed in a short burst that didn’t fool him. “Oh, my opponent faced complete ruination. Busted nose. Lost a tooth or two. They had to stitch him up.”
“Good, I like a woman who can fight with her hands.” As Lydia’s eyes flared, he tacked on, “It means they take care of themselves. Drifter, remember? Less to protect, less complications I have.”
“Now there’s an online profile full of character recommendation.” She smiled a little more honestly. “Can we get back to the bridges?”
“Sure. You were telling me about how you want to use what we have first?”
“Yup, that’d be great if you can.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “And then there are other places that need to be addressed. Some of the inclines have steps that need to be cleared and their rope tethers will have to be tested. But the bridges are the first thing.”
“When does the traffic on the trails start building?”
“Soon. The spring rains will keep some of them away, and then we have black fly season.”
“That’s a thing?”
“They’re the size of donkeys around here. They’ve been known to carry small children off the mountain.”
“Really. And I thought that was just an Internet hoax.”
“Oh, my God.” She put her hand over her heart. “I think you made a funny.”
“Did I?” He smiled slowly. “You know, I was giving it a shot.”
“You’re coming along. By the end of your time here, your middle name will be Henny Youngman.”
“Who’s that?”
“The master of the one-liner. Look him up.” She got serious. “Do you have Mace?”
“What for?”
Her look was all about the well-duh. “There are wild animals out there.”
“No matter what the front page of the newspaper says, you don’t need to worry about me. I promise.”
For no good reason, he found he couldn’t look away from her eyes. Maybe it was the way she was staring up at him, so worried. So concerned about his welfare.
Daniel was not used to that. And he didn’t want to be.
She smiled again. “Because your fists are registered as lethal weapons or something?”
“Let’s just say I can handle myself.”
“All right, tough guy. But be careful, okay? And you have a phone. You can always call me?”
She was so earnest, as if she would ride out on a warrior horse and save him, even though he was nothing to her. Even though she didn’t know just how well he could take care of any threat made against him. Even though … he could see himself being the one to save her.
“You like rescuing things, don’t you?” he murmured.
After a moment, she slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t. It’s … horrible. It can break your heart into a thousand pieces, and the only guarantee you have is that you will always be failing because you can’t rescue everything.”
“Why do that to yourself, then,” he said remotely.
“You make it sound like I have a choice.” She took a deep breath. “So yes, I can understand the appeal of being a lone wolf like you.”
“Funny choice of words.”
“Is it?” Then she shook her head. “It’s my choice of language, what can I see. I mean, say.”