No Strings Part 23

"No. Last year I threatened to go postal and shoot up Sloan's Bar.""Oh, that's right. And he made the mistake of telling Sloan."

"Speaking of telling, when are you going to spill it about you and the Chief?"

Morgan felt her face flush. "I don't know what you mean."

"Give me a break. This we're just friends c.r.a.p has got to stop. My sources tell me your truck hasn't been at your house in months."

"Your source, little miss busybody Tracy, is wrong. I am often at my house in the evenings," Morgan lied. Truth was, she hadn't slept at her own house since January. But she did still go to her house for a change of clothes. It wasn't like she was living with Reese or anything.

"I just want to know why all the secrecy? So you're seeing each other? The whole town knows. Why do you insist you're not?"

"Because the whole town doesn't need to know everything, that's why." She met Tina's gaze. "Yes, we're seeing each other,"

she said. There was really no sense in continuing the charade.

"For a few more months, anyway." She was surprised how those words stung.

"What do you mean?"

"She's only here until November."

"Oh. So what? This is like killing time?"

"G.o.d, that sounds so cheap when you say it like that. But yeah. I suppose." She didn't feel the need to tell Tina about their arrangement.

"Well, I guess there are worse ways to spend the winter."

Tina grinned. "I bet she's good in bed."

"No, no, no. I will not go there with you."

"Come on. You finally have a s.e.x life and you won't share?"

Morgan hesitated. Part of her wanted to confess to Tina that she thought she was in over her head with Reese. But she thought better of it. She really wasn't up to going over all of the rules of their relationship, and how she was on the verge of breaking every one of them. So she gave in. A little.

"The s.e.x is beyond fabulous," she admitted with a grin. "It's the best s.e.x I've ever had in my life. In fact-"

"You don't have to rub it in."

"You asked."

It was still snowing when Morgan drove to Reese's cabin late that afternoon. It was the kind of snow where the clouds hung low, blocking out the mountains, bringing a heaviness to everything around. The branches of the spruce trees were laden with snow, straining to keep their shape as they drooped to the ground.

She hated spring snowstorms. Hated them. Just when you thought things were beginning to thaw. Just when the ice was starting to break on Lake San Cristobal. Just when there'd been nearly a week of sunshine, the streets in town finally snow free, this happens. Snow, snow and more snow. And she knew if it weren't for Reese keeping her occupied, she'd have snapped by now.But she was pleasantly surprised to see smoke twirling out of the chimney and Reese's truck parked out front. Reese hadn't beaten her home in a long time. She paused. Home. Yeah, it felt like home here. Amazing, but it did. She had her tiny house in town where she and Jackson had lived for seven years, yet Ron Brightmen's hunting cabin felt like home. Whether it was because Jackson wasn't there anymore or because Reese was here, she didn't know.

Reese was adding another log to the fire when she walked in, and she hung her coat beside Reese's on the rack.

"Still coming down pretty good, huh?"

"d.a.m.n April storm," Morgan muttered as she joined Reese by the fire.

Reese laughed. "Yeah, I knew you'd be cranky."

"It's supposed to be spring."

"It's barely April."

"It's mid-April," Morgan corrected, then covered Reese's mouth with her hand when she would have spoken again. She felt Reese's tongue wet her palm and she pulled away smiling.

"What do I smell?"

"Dinner."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "You cooked dinner?"

"Of course not. But I didn't think you'd be in any mood to, so I stopped by Sloan's for the famous double-battered fried chicken."

Morgan leaned closer and kissed Reese. "That was very sweet of you."

"Tracy said she missed you, by the way."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "I saw her at lunch."

"Well, you know, maybe we could go by there occasionally for a beer and burger, like we used to."

"You mean, seeing as how the whole town knows about this affair anyway?"

Reese smiled. "Yeah, that. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, I guess I don't. I don't know why I thought we could keep it a secret anyway." She didn't mention Tina's definition of their affair as just killing time. She didn't want to think about that."Oh, did you know Lou's Grocery rents DVDs?"

Morgan laughed. "Yes, but what were you doing at Lou's?"

"Before the fried chicken idea, I thought I might surprise you and cook dinner." She grinned. "However, I quickly saw that I was overambitious. He did have frozen pizza though. I nearly got that."

Morgan was touched by Reese's thoughtfulness. And surprised at how quickly Reese had gotten to know her moods.

No, cooking dinner was the last thing she wanted to do after brooding over the snowstorm all day. She thanked her with a lingering kiss on the mouth, but pulled away when Reese's hands slid up to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I'm starving," she said with a smile. "You'll have to wait."

0.

Much later-after dinner and after bed-after Reese had made love to her so thoroughly, Morgan lay awake, relishing the feel of Reese's arm across her waist, the soft breath caressing her skin, the involuntary twitching of Reese's hand as she slept. All things Morgan had grown to love, and all things she knew she was going to miss when Reese walked out of her life. Six more months. That's all she would have. Six more months. And then they would say their goodbyes and go about their own lives, and all of this would be just a fond memory to look back on.

She told herself she wouldn't fall in love with Reese. She told herself to just enjoy the s.e.x and be done with it. And yes, she did enjoy the s.e.x. As she'd told Tina, it was the best she'd ever had.

They were so attuned to each other's needs, each other's desires, that their lovemaking was nearly effortless, two people giving and receiving pleasure as naturally as could be. But it had long ceased being just s.e.x. They made love. It was in the way they looked at each other, the way they touched, the way they kissed.

She wondered how difficult it would be for Reese to leave come November. Would it hurt her as much? Would her heart ache as Morgan knew hers no doubt would? Or would she be able to separate it all and remember that what they shared was a no strings s.e.xual arrangement? Nothing more, nothing less.

Would Reese be able to do that?

Morgan closed her eyes, her heart heavy on this cold, snowy April night. She turned her head, her lips brushing across Reese's face. She felt Reese's arm tighten around her and she smiled. Yes, one of the many things she would miss.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

"My, G.o.d, it's the sun," Morgan said sarcastically two days later as it finally peeked out, the snow clouds-at last-moving on. "Yeah, crazy weather," Charlie said. "We're going to be in the fifties tomorrow and in the sixties on Friday."

Morgan stared at him. "That's not good." As much as she wanted spring to get here, that was too warm too fast. Especially after the high country just got five feet of fresh snow.

"I know. Ripe for avalanches. We should probably post the warning signs at the trailheads. After all this snow, I'd guess we'll have a few skiers head up to our mountains here."

"Probably should close Cutter's Ridge too. At least at the top.

The back side of the mountain, besides Cutter's Chute, has what?

Four or five other avalanche chutes?"

"I say five, even though those yahoos in the department claim only four meet the criteria."

"We want to put the red flag up?"

"Yeah. Let's hold off on the black until we hear something."

And it didn't take long. Within minutes, reports were coming in of avalanches running all across the state, the most severe in Aspen where a ma.s.sive fall had covered the road, burying three cars. The recommendation for black flag warnings on all susceptible trails had come.

Morgan scrambled to find the signs they hadn't had to use in two years. Berta insisted she'd put them in the storage shed in the back, but after fifteen minutes of searching, Morgan couldn't find them. She trudged back through the snow and into the back room to tell her as much.

"I don't know what you did with them then," Berta said.

"That's where I put them."

Morgan put her hands on her hips. "Do you mind helping me look, Berta? This is kinda important," she said impatiently.

"Maybe Tina put them somewhere. You know how she's always cleaning up."

"Then do you mind calling her?"

Morgan went into the supply closet where she knew where the flags were, at least. Only twice had she had to put up the black flags. The red warning went up nearly every year for Cutter's Ridge, even though technically Cutter's Chute was on private property. The other four active chutes that were near trails were all on public land. And the one that wasn't officially recognized- Cinnamon Chute as the locals called it-dumped its load yearly on the Alpine Loop.

"Tina said she put them in here," Berta said as she stuck her head inside.

"In here?" Morgan turned around, looking between the bookcase and the wall, the only place the signs would fit. And sure enough, there they were. "So all of our other signs are kept out in the storage shed," she said, "but Tina felt the need to keep these in here?" She shook her head. Tina had a tendency to clean and tidy up the place when she was bored. And inevitably she would put something in an odd place and they could never find it. Paul claimed she did the same thing at home. "Tell her to keep her grubby hands off my signs," Morgan said as she brushed past Berta, signs tucked under her arm.

The drive to the trailhead was made with her window open, and Morgan couldn't believe how warm it had gotten in the last hour. But it happened sometimes when late season fronts dumped snow then stalled over the plains, only to back up as a warm front pulling in tropical breezes from the Gulf. The avalanche danger was high, sure, but the prospect of hitting sixty tomorrow had her nearly giddy. Spring- real spring-was right around the corner.

She could feel it. Oh, they'd still get the occasional dusting of snow, but it would be gone by midday.

"G.o.d, I love it," she said as she stood on the trailhead, taking a deep breath of the cool mountain air, so pure it nearly hurt her lungs. She turned a circle, enjoying the quiet, listening to nothing except the occasional call of a nuthatch as it fought through the snow to reach the branches of the trees to forage for seeds.

She pulled one of the TRAIL CLOSED signs from the truck and got her hammer and went about finding a spot to put it. The snow was deep, so she used her boots to sc.r.a.pe back enough to find solid ground. She wasn't too worried about the sign though.

It would only be up for a couple of days. If the avalanche chutes were going to run-and with this warm weather she had no doubt they would-they'd drop their load of snow within twenty-four hours.

She was just driving away when her cell rang. She slowed as she rounded the corner onto the forest road, her tires slipping on the snow. "Hey, Charlie, what's up?"

"Cinnamon Chute just ran," he said. "Got a call from the road crew. d.a.m.n near buried a snowplow."

"What were they doing up on the Alpine Loop anyway?"

"Oh, you know Brightmen's got connections. He's probably worried all this snow will cut into his Jeep rentals."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "He's got another six weeks before he can even think about his Jeep tours. Good grief."

"Yeah, well, just wanted to let you know. And I put a call in to the lodge, but Ellen said they wouldn't have any guests until Friday. The danger should be past by then."

"Okay, Charlie. I'm heading back in. See you in a bit."

She stopped when the forest road met the highway, looking out over the snow-white mountains. It was almost surreal, all this white. Every tree, every rock, every spot of ground was buried in snow. The bright sunshine and deep blue skies were a sharp contrast to the land covered in white. But with the window down, she could hear the drip, drip, drip of snow as it melted. If it did indeed get into the sixties by Friday, all this would be gone from the trees, melted away as if it never happened.

And then the snowmelt would fill the streams, dumping into Henson Creek and Hines Creek, and others on its way to the Gunnison River. And Ed Wade would be a happy man when the fly fishermen descended on them, hoping to land that monster trout.

She smiled as she looked toward the valley of Lake City, picturing the warm sunny days of summer when winter would be just a memory. But she wanted this day to be a memory too. So she fished in her backpack for her small digital camera. She stood on the road in front of her truck, snapping a few pictures to add to her ever-growing file.

She heard the distant rumble just as she was about to get back into her truck. She tilted her head, listening, then grabbed the door handle as the ground literally shook, a deafening roar replaced the peaceful quiet, sending the noisy jays scurrying for cover.

"Wow," she murmured as she fumbled for her cell. "Wow, wow, wow." Her fingers trembled as she called Charlie. He answered right away. "Did you hear it?" she asked excitedly. "Felt like a d.a.m.n earthquake."

"Cutter's Chute?"

"Yeah. That didn't take long. With all that snow, I figured it wouldn't run until tomorrow."

"Are you on the highway yet?"

"Just there." She grinned. "Man, that was awesome. Makes me want to strap on skis just to go take a look."

"Yeah. I hope Johnnie wasn't out and about."

"He knows better. Besides, all this snow, his cabin is probably buried."

"Okay, I'll report the run. Be careful on your way back."