“Bein’ nosy,” she admitted. “Like I told ya, seein’ some of the town’s minin’ history is helpful for my article.” She held out her hands for imaginary handcuffs. “You wanna take me in?”
“As a matter of fact, Ido,”he said seriously. “But I’ve got to find that tunnel access. There might be an entire family of lions living there. I also have to transfer Horace Mason today. If I did arrest you, the mayor would just get mad at me with you being his golden girl and all.”
“So—does that mean I’m free to go?” she asked, a little tentatively.
“Yeah. That means you can go.”
“What can I do to thank you for savin’ my life?” she asked.
“Just please don’t come up here again.”
“You got it,” she promised.
She looked down at the dead animal. The snow around its head was now heavily soaked in dark red.
“You’re a hell of a shot,” she complimented. “I mean, that was amazin’!”
“Let’s keep this out of the article, huh?” he requested. “And don’t say anything about it to the folks in town, either.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause you’re trespassing, and I don’t want kids coming up here thinking they’re Davy Crocket.”
“Oh. Yeah,” she realized. “Okay. Maybe you should tighten up that space at the gate with the chain.”
“You can bet on it,” he assured.
She nodded, looked at the mountain lion again, then stepped back toward the gate.
“Right... I’m gonna go now. But, Eli, really—thank you! Thatwasan amazing shot.”
She had never called him by his first name before, and although she thought nothing of it, he noted it.
“Eh, maybe…” he began.
“Maybe what?” she asked, pausing.
“Maybe… you could save me a dance tomorrow night?”
She remembered the community Christmas dance and gingerbread house contest she was supposed to judge.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“I figure Peter’s going to be dancing with you most of the night,” he qualified. “But, if there’s a slow number?—”
“No. A dance. Absolutely! Promise!” she agreed.
He nodded once, then she turned, approached the gate, and slipped through its opening.
Eli watched her walk down the road in the snow toward the covered bridge, then turned his attention to the mountain lion.
“Sorry, pal,” he said. “But you can’t go eating other people’s property. It’s the mountain code.”
Later that morning at 10:12, Mayor Banyan walked into the doors of the historical society carrying two cups of coffee. As usual, he was dressed in a suit and tie and looked very debonair.
“Good morning, Harriette,” he greeted.
Harriette Noise was dusting one of the glass displays as she looked up.
