He released a breath that may or may not have contained a chuckle. “What don’t I keep to myself? I don’t have another choice.”
She blushed, grimacing slightly at her insensitivity. “That was a stupid question. I’m—”
“It wasn’t stupid. The trees and the birds and all the forest animals know my secrets. I go outside and shout them to the mountaintops sometimes. They all stop to listen.”
She laughed softly. “Does it feel better to get them out? Even to the forest?”
“Yes.” He grinned and her heart tripped all over itself. “Try it sometime.”
“Maybe I will.”
They sat there smiling at each other, the moment heavy with whatever the thing was that flowed between them. Chemistry. Awareness. Deep curiosity. All elements of the undeniable lure that had been flowing between men and women who were attracted to each other since the beginning of time. At dances and in restaurants. At bars and in offices. In caves and in cabins in the middle of the deep, dark forest.
“Anyway,” Harper said, standing and grabbing the purse she’d dropped on the floor next to the bed she was sitting on. “I brought something, and I hope you’ll help me? And a bribe so you won’t say no.”
His eyebrows lowered. “A . . . bribe?”
She smiled. “A payment of sorts. But I was just kidding. It’s more of a gift and there are no strings attached.” She pulled the bottle of Orange Crush from her bag, grinning at Lucas when she held it up.
His eyes widened, lighting up. “Orange drink with bubbles. Crush.”
“Yes.” She twisted off the cap, slowly so it wouldn’t explode, and handed it to him. He looked at it for a second and then tipped it back, taking a big sip. He lowered it, the expression on his face . . . less than impressed. He held the bottle before him, studying it again as he swallowed with obvious effort, cringing slightly. Obviously revolted.
“Not as good as you remember?” she asked, holding back a giggle.
“Not . . . quite.”
She laughed then. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to kiss him and taste the Orange Crush on his lips. She moved that thought aside rapidly. “Anyway, about this thing I need your help with.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a map.” She stepped to the table they’d eaten at the last time she’d been there and sat down on one of the stools, spreading the map over the tabletop and setting a pen next to it.
Dusk had fallen, and Lucas took a moment to light the two candles by the window, bringing them to the table so they could see better. He sat down on the stool next to her and looked at the map. “What do you need my help with?”
“I thought it might be helpful to mark this up for Agent Gallagher. I need to do something to help solve my parents’ murders.” A chill went down her spine. She still couldn’t believe she was saying the words, or that the words were true. My parents were murdered. It didn’t exactly make the loss sharper, didn’t make her suddenly grieve them more than she had. But it lit a fire under her. She’d answered the question of where that she’d been asking all her life, and now she had another two she hadn’t expected: who and why? She gave her head a small shake, attempting to bring herself back to the moment. “But, um, I’d like your input before I do.”
“Okay.”
She picked up the red pen and brought it to the map that was folded to show Missoula and the surrounding areas. “Okay, so this is the highway from Missoula to Helena Springs.” She used the pen to trace the highway. There were also unnamed caverns a few miles off that highway that she’d always assumed had been the ones the hikers had been looking for, but she supposed that wasn’t necessarily accurate, considering where her parents’ car had been found.
She moved her eyes to another area on the map. “This is the approximate location of Driscoll’s cabin.” She drew a square over the green area of wilderness. “And this is yours,” she said, drawing another square near Driscoll’s. Harper glanced up at him and he had a small crease between his brows as he concentrated on what she did.
“All right,” she went on, “this is the Owlwood River. She traced the long winding line that represented the river, going from the highway that connected Missoula to Helena Springs, down past Lucas’s house and beyond. “And this is where my parents’ car was found,” she said, drawing an X far downriver, near the base of a group of mountain ranges.
“Okay,” Lucas said, bringing his head slightly closer to hers. The candlelight flickered, and it suddenly felt intimate, the way their heads were bowed together, the way they were speaking in hushed voices, the way it was only them and no one else for miles and miles. She wondered what his lips would feel like if he kissed her, wondered if he’d know what to do.
“Okay,” Harper repeated, her voice emerging on a whisper that was far more breathy than she’d meant it to be. She cleared her throat, heat moving slowly up her neck and then sweeping through her limbs with a suddenness that made her break out in chills.
“Are you cold?” he asked, when she rubbed at her arms.
“No. No. Ah . . .” She focused on the map again, trying to get her mind on what they had been doing. “All right, so up here”—she tapped at the wilderness area between the highway connecting Helena Springs and Missoula and the Owlwood River—“is where I generally do my guide work. And where I’ve focused my own search efforts for my parents’ car.” She put the end of the pen to her lips, biting softly at the tip.
“Why?” he asked, and when she glanced at him, she saw his gaze was focused on her mouth. She pulled the pen from her lips, their eyes meeting, his widening slightly before he glanced away.
“Why? Ah, well, because it’s good for camping and hunting, but also because the
road that I assumed they’d been traveling is close by.