Montana Standoff Page 8

  “Did Manning actually say you weren’t to see Steven? Did he out-and-out forbid it?”

  “He made it very clear that if I decide to work as Brad’s assistant there can be no contact with Steven on a personal level.”

  “Do you want contact with him on a personal level? I mean, you haven’t said a thing about him since last Saturday. The two of you spent the entire day together, and you haven’t mentioned a word about it. I know that as your best friend in the whole world it’s probably none of my business, but what happened?”

  “I told you that it wasn’t a date. And nothing happened.”

  “Baloney,” Dani said. “I may not be in the room with you, but I know you. You have pathos and heartache written all over you. Tell me everything, or I’ll never let you borrow my emerald earrings for that first dinner date.”

  “Nothing happened,” Molly repeated. “He showed me the open pit mine, and it was ugly, which was about what I expected. Afterwards, we found a place to eat our picnic lunch. We stopped for an ice-cream cone at that little stand north of town, and then he brought me home.”

  “That sounds nice. Then what?”

  “He walked me to my door, like a true gentleman, whereupon I asked him in for an Irish supper.”

  “Surely not,” Dani protested. “I thought you said you liked this guy.”

  “Like him?” Molly knew the word like didn’t begin to describe her feelings. She could still feel the warm tingling where his fingers had brushed her ear. “I don’t think I’ve felt this way about anyone before. Not that it matters. He declined the invitation. And it’s just as well that the night ended that way. Steven’s strictly off-limits until this New Millennium project is pushed through.”

  Dani’s sigh was loud in Molly’s ear. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Call him up and tell him what’s going on. I’m sure he knows how political things can get. He sounds like a really nice guy and I’m sure he’ll understand. Besides, the permitting process might not take that much time.”

  “Oh, Dani, the way I feel right now, if it only took a week, that would be seven days too long.”

  “Call him.”

  “If Steven wants to see me again, he’ll call me. I gave him every opening to do so. And if by some miracle he does, I’ll have to tell him what Manning said and see how he reacts to that. But he won’t call. Why should he? We’re standing on opposite sides of a tall fence that divides two very different worlds.”

  STEVEN STACKED the supper dishes in the sink and reflected on how long the day had been, how drawn out and stressful and how unprofitable. He had neglected his other paying obligations and given all of his energies to a cause that promised no monetary compensation whatsoever. Wealth would elude him as long as he continued down this path, but wealth had never been his motivation. He had a nice house, one he’d helped build himself, but he’d nickel-and-dimed it, and he’d be paying down the mortgage until he was an old man. His Jeep was an extravagance he sometimes regretted when the monthly payments came due, but the reality of it was that he needed dependable transportation in a county that dished out six months of nasty winter weather. He was getting by, but it was a constant struggle.

  Attorneys like Molly Ferguson lived on a different level. They breezed through their days confident and secure. They shopped with impunity and drove fast, fancy cars. And yet…what made her so different? What was it about her that had tangled his thoughts so? Why did he glance at the phone and wish it would ring because she had decided she missed him and needed to hear his voice?

  Steven squirted a generous dollop of dish soap into the sink and ran hot water over the dishes. Better to let them soak for a while. Lasagna was a messy cleanup job. He turned off the tap, paced to the living room and then back into the kitchen to stand near the phone. He dug in his jeans for his wallet and pulled her business card from it. Stared at her name and the numbers listed beneath it, home, cell and office. She had beautiful red hair, intelligent hazel eyes and freckles that she tried futilely to conceal. She worked for a law firm that represented mining companies desecrating the natural world for short-term material gains. She was without a doubt the most compellingly beautiful yet hopelessly incompatible woman he could ever imagine himself pairing up with.

  He picked up the wall phone in the kitchen and dialed her home number.

  MOLLY SET THE CORDLESS PHONE aside after speaking with Dani. Her mood was no better, in spite of Dani’s efforts to cheer her. The world was definitely a dark and dreary place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, released it. Deep breathing was supposed to be very therapeutic. She’d recently read that most people never drew a deep breath. They spent their entire lives shallow breathing, thereby considerably stunting their oxygen exchange capabilities, which correspondingly lowered their mean intelligence level. Or something like that. She drew a deep, even breath and held it until her lungs began to burn….

  The phone rang beside her, startling the breath from her lungs, and Molly glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock. It was probably her mother, who always called right about this time. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so Molly had told her that whenever counting sheep didn’t work, she’d bore her into dreamland with one of her long-winded, one-sided and oh-so-boring conversations about day-to-day life as a first-year attorney. Molly reached for the phone. It would be good to talk to her mother, who somehow always managed to brighten the darkest of her days. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl who thought she could change the world by becoming a lawyer,” she began by rote.

  “Molly?” a deep and familiar voice said. Definitely not her mother.

  Molly’s eyes shot open and she sat up with an audible exhalation of air. She spun around and dropped her feet to the floor with a thump, hoping he hadn’t heard that loud and undignified gasp.

  “Oh, hello, Steven.” Spoken in a cool, aloof and perfectly professional. She couldn’t let him guess how desperately glad she was that he called. “I thought you were my mother. She always calls at this time of night.”

  “And you tell her a bedtime story?”

  She closed her eyes, savoring the sound of his voice, which held an undercurrent of humor. “Something like that. What’s up?”

  “Did you happen to see the Sunday paper? There was a brief article about New Millennium and their proposed project on Madison Mountain.”

  “Really?” Molly was surprised. “No, I didn’t, and nobody at the office mentioned it. Pro or con?”

  “Neutral. Just states the facts. Are you still working for Taintor, Skelton and Goldstein?”

  “Yes. And Manning’s agreed to give me one more chance as Brad’s very silent and mostly invisible assistant.” She hesitated for a moment. “He doesn’t like you very much, Steven. In fact, he regards you as a radical environmentalist.”

  He laughed. “No doubt he warned you that if we shared a ride again, or even spoke on the phone, he would consider it an act of treason on your part.”

  Molly closed her eyes and felt the sharp pain knife through her heart. “He said I could have no personal contact with you as long as I was representing his interests.”

  “That sounds like Manning.”

  “This permitting process probably won’t take long,” Molly said, but the words had an empty ring.

  “Permitting processes can take years, especially when they’re challenged. When it’s over, maybe you could show me how you manage to boil a cabbage so it’s edible,” he said.

  “I’d like that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll even show you my original Remington print. And Steven? I’m sorry.”

  “You have to do what you think is right. You shouldn’t have to apologize for that.”

  “Maybe, but I’m still sorry.”

  There was a long pause. “Me, too.”

  Molly set the phone down again and sat for a few moments, recalling every word of their conversation and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t the end of the world. Steven certainly
hadn’t called just to tell her about a brief blurb in the newspaper. He’d called because he wanted to talk to her, which was a good thing. A great thing. And he was sorry that they couldn’t see each other on a personal level until New Millennium was up and running. But what if the permitting process took years? If Steven was successful in spearheading strong opposition to the Madison Mountain project, it very well could. She pushed to her feet and padded into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, as if that might help fill the emptiness she felt inside.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHEN THE PHONE RANG the next morning, Steven had just stepped out of the shower and was barely one cup of coffee into the day. He picked up on his bedroom extension, hoping it would be Molly calling to tell him that she was dropping the New Millennium proposal because she couldn’t stand the idea of not being able to show him how to cook a proper Irish meal that very evening.

  “I’m sorry to call you so early, Steven.” His sister’s familiar voice came on the line, “but I need a huge favor from you.”

  “It’s six-thirty, Pony. That’s not exactly early.”

  “I thought lawyers did the nine-to-five thing.”

  “Lucky lawyers, maybe. Does this huge favor have anything to do with your wedding?”

  There was a pause followed by a sigh. “Steven, we need a holy man.”

  “I thought you picked one already. Nana’s brother.”

  “He can’t do it. He’s in the hospital. His asthma…”

  “Too many years working in the mines.”

  “And so,” Pony said, matter-of-fact. “We need someone else.”

  “And so,” Steven echoed. “Naturally you called me, thinking I could pull the very best one out of my hat.”

  “We’re doing the seven sacred steps. Our vows are written, and you happen to have close ties to the very best holy man alive.”

  “Pony…”

  “Luther Makes Elk would do it, if you asked him. I know he would, even though Caleb is a white man.” Her voice was determined.

  “You would have Luther perform your ceremony? I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because he didn’t come to your fund-raiser for the school when you advertised that he would. He stood you up.”

  “Yes, but Steven, he is the holiest and most powerful of the Crow Indians. Of course I would have him perform my ceremony. And after all, he is your adopted grandfather.”

  He couldn’t suppress the deep laugh that erupted. “Seven sacred steps?”

  “Seven.”

  “Okay. I’ll try and find him, but he’s a shape-shifter.”

  “So are you. Thank you, Steven.” But she didn’t say goodbye or hang up. He stood dripping on his bedroom floor, phone to his ear, waiting patiently. “How is Molly?” she finally said.

  Steven grinned, mystery revealed. “The real reason you called is because you’re curious about my love life.”

  “As your sister, I have a right to be curious.”

  “Molly’s fine, though I haven’t seen her since the rules were laid out to her by her boss about consorting with the enemy camp. Are you disappointed or relieved?”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Even if my happiness comes with red hair and white European ancestry?”

  “Yes, even if. Caleb and I are having a barbecue this Saturday to celebrate the official opening of the school on the Bow and Arrow, and since you are responsible for making the school a legal entity, you have to come.”

  “Is that an order, or an invitation?”

  “The barbecue begins at two and there is plenty of room for you to spend the night. Bring Molly.”

  “She won’t come. She can’t. She’s been forbidden to have any contact with me as long as she’s representing New Millennium Mining. It’s a conflict-of-interest thing.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means if we get together on a personal level we might try to influence each other’s thought processes and opinions, or accidentally divulge confidential information, and by doing so compromise our client’s interests.”

  “You would never do that. Molly will come if you ask her. When do you think you’ll be speaking to Luther Makes Elk?”

  “When would you like to have an answer from him?”

  “Steven.” Pony’s voice held an impatient edge.

  “He doesn’t have a phone, and he lives a long ways from here. He might not be home if I go to visit.”

  “I need to know, Steven. It’s very important.”

  It was his turn to sigh. “Then I’ll find him.”

  MOLLY BIT THE END of her pen and gazed out her office window. Noon, and after two hours she was no closer to providing Brad with the paperwork he needed to push forward with the permitting process for New Millennium mine. Her mind was definitely not on her work. She was thinking about Steven, wondering what he was doing, and if he was thinking about her even a fraction as much as she was thinking about him. She had glanced several times at her phone even though she knew calling him would be considered a crime punishable by death in Ken Manning’s rule book.

  And why was she wasting so much time thinking about a guy who probably didn’t give a hoot about her? Except…except the way he had sounded when they’d last spoken on the phone, she was certain that he felt something, too. Maybe for him it hadn’t exactly been love at first sight, but… She turned her eyes back to the computer screen with a frustrated sigh, thinking about New Millennium and the Sioux dying of cancer on the reservation near the mine Steven had taken her to see. What was the name of that place? Rocky Ridge? She typed in a legal search engine, entered her password, and within moments had forgotten all about her duties as Brad’s assistant. The guilt she felt was fleeting. This was important, too. She needed to find out all she could about New Millennium Mining and its parent company, Condor International, because Steven would most certainly be using their every past environmental transgression as ammunition against any future projects on public lands. The better prepared they were, the better their chances of swaying the citizens of Moose Horn in their favor.

  She hoped she wouldn’t find any past transgressions. Condor International was a multibillion-dollar conglomerate with a very heavy-hitting reputation. Just because Steven had listed a string of past violations didn’t mean they hadn’t already been resolved in environmentally correct ways. Somehow she had to make Steven see that it was okay to take minerals out of the earth, that it could be done in a responsible fashion and that the land could be reclaimed and made as good as new when the project was complete. She had to make him understand that big business cared about the environment, too, and wasn’t the greedy, heartless monster he made it out to be.

  And so she began her Internet odyssey into the legal maze, when what she really wanted to do was pick up the phone and ask Steven if he missed her as much as she missed him.

  STEVEN SPENT MUCH of the morning making phone calls from his office. He scratched out some of the names, underlined others and wrote brief notes around a few. All in all, he made pretty good headway in getting the ball rolling from a financial standpoint against the New Millennium Mining proposal. He’d just hung up from speaking with one of the bigwigs at the Wilderness Society and was staring at his notes when the phone rang. It was Amy Littlefield.

  “We just sent out a mailing, like you suggested,” she said. “A one-page summary of what’s happening, and when the next public hearing is.”

  “Good. The more people who know, the better. We need to start collecting water samples. The ones Sam had with him in his car are definitely missing, along with his digital camera and the money you gave him as a retainer. And just this morning I uncovered an interesting glitch for New Millennium. The road they’re building to the mine site hasn’t yet been legally permitted. I filed an injunction two hours ago to stop them from using it or continuing the construction process until approval is granted through the proper channels.”

/>   “You mean, they built that huge road into a national forest without permission?”

  “The permits are in the works, but yes, it would seem they’ve jumped the gun.”

  “Then no more traffic, no more trucks, and no more road building,” Amy said heatedly.

  “As soon as the injunction is enforced it will stop, but only temporarily,” Steven said. “Everything will continue just as soon as the permits are in place.”

  “But they should be fined and punished,” Amy protested. “Isn’t someone supposed to be watching them?”

  “The Forest Service, the BLM, and the Department of Environmental Protection are all federal watchdogs, but sometimes these things fall through the cracks.”

  “Or are deliberately ignored. I don’t see how you can be so calm about it.”

  “This sort of thing goes on all the time,” Steven said. “After a while it becomes the norm for powerful companies to bend the law and pay the fines when they’re caught doing it.”

  “You mean break the law, don’t you?” she said in a caustic voice.

  “I’ve informed the newspapers, and several journalists were going to look into it. Violations like that could work in our favor if they generate publicity. Everything that brings the project in front of the public eye will help us at this point.”

  He heard Amy heave an exasperated sigh. “We’re going to hold a bake sale to try and raise some money, and one of the local ranchers is donating a beef cow for us to raffle off.” Her voice was flat with discouragement. “That isn’t going to bring in a whole lot of cash, probably not even enough to pay you for attending that first meeting, let alone the second one, but we hope you’ll come. It’s the only chance we have to present a united front and put up a good fight.”