Nerd Gone Wild (22 page)

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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

BOOK: Nerd Gone Wild
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A
s he approached, Mitchell could tell Ally was furious. He didn’t really give a damn, either. He’d thought she’d been standing there frozen with fear, when instead she’d been concentrating so hard she’d been oblivious to the danger. Either way, he didn’t regret what he’d done for a minute.

“Dammit all, Mitchell, why did you come charging in here like that? I wasn’t afraid! I was trying to get a picture!”

Heart pumping with adrenaline, he stopped and gasped for breath as he took a survey of the area. “Of which one?”

She glared at him. “What do you mean, which one? There was a wolf standing there. He was gorgeous, and I was about to get a perfect shot with my telephoto, when you started yelling and ruined everything.”

“So you didn’t see the others.” He’d left the Top Hat the minute he’d felt certain that Ernie was under control. Then he’d had to go back to where Ally had started her trek behind Heavenly Provisions and follow her trail into the woods. He’d taken classes in tracking but he was no expert, and it had been damned slow going. He needed to plant that transmitter in her backpack ASAP.

“There were no others!”

“Yeah, there were, Ally.” He waved his arm to the left. “Over there I saw three, and over there—” He pointed to the right. “Four more. They were hard to see through the trees, but they were there, and it looked like they were starting to close in.”

“I think your imagination was playing tricks on you.” But a tiny flicker of uneasiness showed in those gorgeous green eyes.

“Ally, they were there. Seven more wolves. The one in front of you was stationary, but the others were gradually moving closer.”

She obviously didn’t like being caught unawares. Her chin came up. “Even if there were more wolves, I wasn’t in danger. They don’t attack people. They’re victims of bad press.”

“And in the press is where I want my future contacts with a pack of wolves. I’ll be happy to read all about them. I’d rather not encounter them in their own territory, which they know a hell of a lot better than I do.”

“News flash, Mitchell. I didn’t ask you to come out here in the woods looking for me.” Then she paused and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How did you find me, anyway?”

He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“I could have gone off in the woods in any direction.”

“I tried to think like you.”

“Ha. If you’d been thinking like me, you would have crept up the trail very silently, so you wouldn’t scare the
wildlife
. Sheesh. I still can’t believe I missed that shot.”

He refused to apologize. So he’d come charging into a situation where he saw her surrounded by a pack of wolves. He’d do it again.

She sighed. “We might as well go back. I’m sure they’re gone. I’m sure after all that ruckus every living creature except us has left the area.” She shut down her camera and shrugged out of her backpack so she could put it away.

“I’d be glad to carry that for you.” And in the process he could slide the transmitter into the bottom of the backpack where she’d never find it.

“Thanks. I’ve got it.” She swung the pack over her shoulder and started back the way she’d come. Her expression was not the least bit friendly.

It occurred to him that the condom issue, which he had yet to resolve, might be a moot point. But he had to do his job, had to protect her from the wolves, both four-legged and two-legged. If that ticked her off so much that she forgot she’d ever been attracted to him, so be it. The sex was an iffy proposition and would have been an unexpected benefit, anyway.

The trail was only wide enough for one person, so he brought up the rear. He resisted the impulse to look over his shoulder and see if a man-eating wolf was gaining on them. Okay, so she might be right that they weren’t dangerous, but he hadn’t liked the look of that situation.

The bottom line was, he didn’t care for the whole idea of her wandering out in the wilderness by herself. Yet that was exactly what she had in mind with her photography gig. “This Tanya Mandell,” he said. “The photographer whose book you have up in your room, does she have a sidekick?”

“Sometimes. Not always.” Ally still sounded ticked off. “What’s your point, as if I didn’t know?”

“I just think it would be a better idea to utilize the buddy system, that’s all.”

“That’s not always practical. And besides, I like being on my own. It’s a treat Grammy hardly ever allowed.”

“Okay, but do you have to be on your own out in the woods, where stuff can have you for lunch?”

She adjusted her backpack strap. “Mitchell, you are so melodramatic. Face it, this isn’t your thing. There’s no way you will ever understand my need to get out here with nature, one-on-one, and capture the spirit of wild animals with my camera. You’ll never get it.”

“I might get it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” The words had a familiar ring, and yet he’d never said that before. Then he remembered why they sounded so familiar. His father had told him that very thing the day he’d come home with his first motorcycle at the age of seventeen. Yikes. Now he was sounding like a parent.

His father had threatened to make him return the bike to the dealership. Mitch had threatened to leave home, taking his precious bike with him. In the end, they’d come to a compromise. Mitch had enrolled in a course on safe motorcycle practices, and his dad had let him keep the bike.

Mitch didn’t want to act like a parent with Ally, and yet that seemed to be the way he was behaving. Madeline had put him in a crummy position, when you came right down to it. She’d hired him to watch out for Ally but she’d given him no power. He hadn’t really figured that out until now.

He could quit, of course. But as recently as last night he’d promised Ally he wouldn’t do that. He’d also promised Madeline that he’d keep Ally safe. He needed to stop being so damned free with his promises, because unfortunately for him, he was the kind of guy who believed in keeping them.

* * *

The closer Ally came to the back end of Heavenly Provisions, the more certain she was that the tractor was running again. A cleared road would be a good thing for Uncle Kurt, so she hoped the tractor was operating. She’d wondered if he knew about the iffy road conditions around Porcupine. If he’d given her a telephone number, she would have called to let him know.

But Uncle Kurt wasn’t a telephone kind of guy, as he’d told her. To him, telephones tied you down. You had to interrupt whatever you were doing to deal with a telephone call, and he didn’t like that. He preferred e-mail.

She didn’t really want to talk to Mitchell, because she was still mad at him, but she was curious about the tractor situation, and he might know the story, considering that she’d last seen him pinning Ernie to the floor. “I think someone’s plowing the road,” she said. “Do you know anything about that?”

“Nope. I just hope to God it’s not Ernie. Last I saw, he was putting away the beer like it was going out of style. If he’s both plowed
and
plowing, we’d better make a run for the Top Hat before we get scooped up in his shovel.”

“Who said I was going to the Top Hat?” She didn’t want him making assumptions about her schedule, although she was getting very hungry, and the Top Hat was the only game in town if she wanted lunch.

“So you’re not going to the Top Hat?”

With the limited options in Porcupine, a girl had a tough time making an unpredictable move. “I guess I am.”

“Me, too. I need some food and I have to pick up my sculpture.”

“So you bought one.”

“I did.” He didn’t sound very proud of his purchase.

“Why is it at the Top Hat?”

“Dave wanted to show Clyde which one I bought, so Serena took it over while Dave and I carried Ernie.”

“I’m sorry I missed that.” She walked down the narrow alleyway between the store and the building next to it, a combination beauty parlor and barbershop.

“Yeah, we made quite a procession. You should really stick around instead of wandering off into the woods by yourself. No telling what will happen next in Porcupine. Maybe you could switch to human interest photography.”

“Nice try. Ain’t gonna happen. But if it makes you feel any better, I should be getting a mentor soon.” She stepped onto the snow-covered sidewalk. Sure enough, the tractor was working about a block down from where she stood.

Mitch came up beside her. “Whoever that is, he doesn’t act drunk.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen anybody plow a road before, drunk or sober.”

“Well, I have, and my money’s on Dave being the operator of that machine. I think it’s safe to cross.” He started toward the Top Hat.

Ally fell into step beside him. “Speaking of money, if you don’t mind my asking, how much did you end up paying for your nude?”

“Let’s put it this way. For a room freshener, it was expensive. For original sculpture, it was a bargain.”

She’d wanted to stay mad at him. She really hated the way he’d interrupted her wolf adventure. But remembering how he’d acted so adorably helpless in the face of Serena’s sales pitch, she lost her grip on her anger. “Did you really think I was about to be attacked by wolves back there?”

“I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”

She laughed. “Exactly how should a pack of wolves look at me so that you would approve?”

“Definitely not like that, as if they were considering you as an entree.”

“I’ll bet you read
Little Red Riding Hood
at an impressionable age.”

“Maybe. I’ve never been crazy about wild animals with big teeth.”

“I have.” She stepped over a furrow of snow that Dave had missed. “And faraway places where most people never go.”

“Because your grandmother wouldn’t let you out of her sight?”

“Partly. But that’s not the main reason.” She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the Top Hat and paused, turning toward him. “It’s more because of my mom and dad.” The explanation popped out, and why she’d told Mitchell was anybody’s guess. She’d never talked about her parents. Grammy had never been able to, not even after years had passed.

“I’m not sure I understand. I thought you were very young when they… when they…”

“Died? It’s okay, Mitchell. Grammy was sensitive about it, but I’m not. It was a diving accident off the coast of Jamaica. I was three, too little to go on a trip like that. They were searching for sunken treasure. A storm came up, and they couldn’t get back to the boat.”

“That’s terrible.”

Maybe that’s why she didn’t tell people about it. She was afraid they’d look at her the way Mitchell was looking at her, as if she should be pitied. “I don’t think it’s terrible. They died doing what they loved.”

“Yeah, but you missed out on so much.”

“I can’t be sad when I barely remember them. I look at pictures, and it brings up this vague feeling of tenderness, but they don’t seem like real people. More like a movie I’ve seen a long time ago, one I’m sure I liked although I don’t really remember the story.”

Mitchell shook his head. “I can’t imagine. My parents were always there. They’re
still
there, living in Arlington Heights. A fixture. A huge part of my life, my memories.”

She thought that explained why he was such a conservative guy. “Sometimes I envy people like you, who have that continuity. But even though my parents died when I was very young, it’s okay, because I feel connected in a weird sort of way. I’m like them, Mitchell. I plan to live that kind of life, taking risks, going to exotic places. I’m carrying on the legacy.”

He held her gaze for a long time. “Ally, I have to tell you, sometimes you scare the shit out of me.”

* * *

They’d dressed Mitch’s nude and given her a name worthy of a town called Porcupine. Quillamina Sharp stood on the bar wearing a bar-towel sarong and a tiara made of toothpicks and straws. He should have known that leaving the sculpture at the Top Hat posed certain risks.

The bar was crowded. Glancing around, Mitch was relieved to see Ernie over in a corner with another beer at his elbow. At least the little guy wasn’t out scooping snow and ramming into parked cars along the way, which meant the tractor operator was most definitely Dave.

Mitch and Ally joined Betsy and Serena at a table near the bar. The two women were finishing their sandwiches, along with a beer for Betsy and a glass of wine for Serena.

“So Dave’s out plowing?” Mitch asked Betsy.

She nodded. “After a couple of beers, Ernie calmed right down. Invited Dave to be his guest and plow the entire county if he wanted.”

“That’s amazing.” Ally glanced toward the corner where Ernie sat. “I thought they were going to kill each other.”

Mitch didn’t trust the supposed truce, either, and he wanted to avoid dealing with Ernie again. Too much of that macho stuff and people would start to suspect he had some law-enforcement training.

Besides, he had a ton of other things to worry about, like Ally carrying on her parents’ legacy. “So what happens when he sobers up?” he asked. “Won’t he start raving about his stolen tractor all over again?”

Serena smiled. “Clyde has that covered. As a public service, he’ll supply Ernie with beer until David finishes, which should be before it gets dark. In fact, I think Clyde plans to keep Ernie well oiled into the evening. That gives David plenty of time to return the tractor. Someone will take Ernie home tonight, and when he wakes up in the morning, the tractor will be in the shed right where he expects to find it.”

“Until the next snowstorm and the game starts over,” Mitch said. “I realize I’m an outsider, but I think the town needs to buy its own snowplow.” He glanced up as Clyde appeared at the table, order pad in hand. “Don’t you think the town needs its own plow?”

Clyde grinned. “Nah.”

“But you know this will happen again.”

“Exactly. We gotta have something to see us through the winter besides my tap routines on the bar. We get a lot of entertainment out of betting on whether Ernie’s going to be sober enough to plow the streets and then coming up with a plan if he’s not.”

“Poopsie’s right.” Betsy put a hand on Mitch’s arm. “Sometimes the logical solution isn’t the best solution for Porcupinians. You won’t understand that until you’ve spent a few winters here.”

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