Dancing in the Dark

“It’s a great location, and the basic structure is sound. You’ll save a small fortune on construction by redoing instead of starting from scratch.”

“Yeah, so I keep telling myself.” Rod smiled. “Anyway, you’re the one who’s going to be sweating through this. Me? Well, right now, I’m planning a little trip to Vermont. Then I’ll come back here for a while before returning to New York. After that, I’m just going to drive up weekends, stay at Twin Oaks, stop by here and make you a little nuts once in a while, asking if I can drive in a nail or two.”

“It’s your house. You can drive in nails anytime you like.”

“Don’t let any of my residents hear you say that. Some of them are convinced surgeons are supposed to be like virtuoso piano players. Doing anything that might risk injury to your hands is a crime against medicine and humanity.”

“And you don’t agree?”

Rod shrugged. “Injury’s always a possibility, I guess, but I can’t imagine living a life totally free of risk. What would be the point?”

“I’ve heard that philosophy before,” Seth observed quietly.

“But?”

“But, having the risk bite you in the tail isn’t quite the same as imagining it.”

Rod hitched a hip onto one of the vinyl-covered counter stools. “You speaking from personal experience?”

“Just an observation.”

“Right. Well, it’s true, I suppose. I guess some of us have to learn the hard way.” Both men took a drink of ale. “Got to admit, you don’t strike me as somebody who’s avoided risk.”

“I didn’t say I avoided it, just that it’s a dangerous way to live.” One corner of Seth’s mouth curved upward. “It took me most of my teens to figure that out.”

“You grew up here?”

Seth shook his head. “I grew up in New York.”

“The city? I’d never have believed it.”

“I lived there until I was eighteen.”

“How come you moved up here? Oh, hell. Listen to me. Sorry, Castleman. I’m the one who’s big on privacy, and here I am, asking questions. It’s just that I’m so accustomed to meeting people who’ve gone in the other direction. You know, you grow up in, I don’t know, Oshkosh, and when you hit the magic age, you pack up and head for New York.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Well, I wasn’t raised in Oshkosh.” Rod tilted the bottle to his mouth. “I’m from Canada, originally. Went to college there, then med school, applied for residency in New York, settled in and never looked back. It just felt like the right place.”

“Not for me. I was born in Brooklyn but I...I shifted around a lot. By the time I finished high school, I’d had about as much of the city as I could stomach. College wasn’t on the horizon, not then, but I’d been up in these parts once when I was a kid. Went to summer camp not far from Cooper’s Corner for two weeks with a community youth group. Came back with the same bunch on a winter ski trip, one of those inner city things....”

“Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

“I don’t mind talking about it.” Seth flashed a quick grin. “I’m a success story. No, I mean it. A couple of my high school teachers would have bet I’d end up in a place with a view of steel bars and barbed wire, but something about this area got to me. I graduated high school, came up here, figured maybe I could find some kind of job before moving on across the country. But I liked it here. The mountains. The sleepy little towns. Plus, I turned out to be pretty good on skis and Jiminy was hiring people....”

A sudden image flashed into his head. Wendy, the day he’d first met her. One of her ski bindings had come loose and she’d sat down on a bench to fix it. He hadn’t known that; he’d just figured she was a snow bunny, busy adjusting her skis rather than facing the terrors of the slope. He’d watched her for a couple of minutes, his gaze taking in the long legs encased in black spandex, the riot of dark red curls peeping out from beneath a black knit cap. Finally, he’d put on his best Hey, I’m a Sexy Stud smile—it had worked wonders on lots of girls that winter—strolled up and used what had by then turned into the easiest pickup line in the world, tailor-made for snow bunnies.

“Hi,” he’d said. “Would you like some help?”

She’d looked up, and the intensity of those blue eyes had almost struck him speechless. Almost, but not quite. He’d mustered enough presence of mind to add that he was pretty good on skis. He smiled when he said it, in a self-deprecating kind of way that made it clear what he really meant was he was damn good. And, if she liked, he’d be happy to help her adjust her skis, and then take her to one of the easy runs, where he’d show her some basics.

Those gorgeous blue eyes had widened with something halfway between amusement and amazement.

“Thanks,” she’d said, very politely, “but I’ll be fine.”

And by the grace of whatever god had been watching, before he’d dug himself any deeper by saying he’d be glad to show her how to get on and off the chair lift, some dude in an anorak like hers had come along, ignored him, smiled at her and said the team was waiting for her.

The team? When she’d gotten to her feet, Seth had wanted to dig a hole in the snow and crawl in because emblazoned on the back of her jacket and on the dude’s was a downhill skier, obviously going a zillion miles an hour.

All New England Ski Team, the logo under the little figure said.

“Castleman?”

Seth blinked. Rod Pommier was looking at him, eyebrows lifted.

“Sorry.” Seth cleared his throat. “I was, uh, I was remembering what it was like, coming up here...”

“And deciding to stay. That was the big thing, wasn’t it? I mean, some decisions are tough. Whether to stay in a place or leave it, whether to do something you believe in even when you think people are using you....” The doctor gave a quick laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s always hard to make the right decision, but it’s got to be even harder if you’re an eighteen-year-old kid.”

“Yeah.” Seth shrugged. “Well, as I said, I kind of liked the town. And I met some people I liked, too.”

“A girl.” Rod nodded wisely. “Sure. You were eighteen and you met a girl. That was what almost kept me back in Canada. Come to think of it, it’s how I knew I wasn’t really in love with her. If I had been, I’d never have left. That’s why I’m figuring it was a girl who kept you in Cooper’s Corner.”

Seth thought about denying it, but what was the point? They were talking about the past, and that was where Wendy belonged. Yes, he’d loved her once, but he didn’t love her now. Maybe looking back would help keep things in perspective...or maybe, at the very least, it would stop him from waking up and going to sleep thinking about her, which he’d been doing all damned week, despite the bitter words they’d exchanged a couple of hours ago.

“You’re right,” he said after a minute, “it was a girl.”

“Let me guess. Seventeen. Pretty. A cheerleader at the high school.”

Seth stood up, crossed the room and ran his hand over the fireplace mantel. “Nice.” He rapped it lightly with his knuckles. “Oak. Probably local.”

“The girl?”

“The mant—” He looked at Pommier and laughed. “Yeah, she was local. And seventeen. And definitely pretty. In her senior year of high school. But she wasn’t a cheerleader. She was a skier. A champion skier.”

“Oh, hell.” Rod folded his arms over his chest. “Wendy Monroe?”

“Yes.” Seth frowned. “How’d you know?”

“Well, how many pretty teenage champion skiers could a town this size have produced a decade ago? I skied with some guys from the Cooper’s Corner ski club. They were talking about a girl named Wendy Monroe, said she’d come home again after ten years.”

“Nine.”

“Whatever.

She was a big name, I gather, back then.”

Seth nodded. He put one foot up on the hearth and tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Made the Olympics, too,” Rod said.

“Yeah.”

“Actually, I recognized the name right away. Unless I’ve got her mixed up with someone else, I’m pretty sure she wrote to me a few months back.”

“You haven’t got her mixed up with anybody,” Seth said, his tone giving nothing away. “It was Wendy.”

“You knew about it?”

“Not then. I hadn’t heard from her in a long time. But I saw her last week and she told me she’d been in contact with you.”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it. She asked me if I’d see her. I said I wouldn’t.”

“End of story.”

“That’s right. I’d already decided not to take on new pa—” Rod scowled. “What a coincidence,” he said slowly. “The lady writes to me, I come here on vacation and she turns up after all these years away.”

Seth didn’t answer. Rod gave a slow, thoughtful whistle through his teeth.

“And now it turns out that the guy who’s going to do the work on my cabin is her boyfriend.”

“Former boyfriend,” Seth said quickly. “As in the ex from another...” His eyes narrowed as the other man’s words sank in. “What is this? You think I’m in some kind of conspiracy with Wendy Monroe?”

“I think,” Rod said carefully, “we need to get this out in the open.” He paused. “We’re partners when it comes to this project, Seth. And I’d like us to be friends, as well, but you have to know that I don’t let my professional life get mixed up with my personal life.”

“If you knew me a little better,” Seth said coldly, “you’d know that you just insulted me. You think I’ve been cozying up to you so I can ask you a favor for Wendy?” The men glared at each other. Then Seth grabbed the gloves he’d dumped on the counter. “Get yourself another carpenter. I’m out of here.”

“Wait a minute.”

“No.” Seth swung away from the door. “No, you wait a minute, Pommier. I didn’t come to you about this project, remember? You came to me. And I resent the hell out of you thinking I’d play that kind of game.”

“You misunderstood me,” Rod said quietly. “Or maybe I said it wrong. Look, man, you have to understand. People have been camping on my doorstep in New York, even bribing the guy who runs the elevator in my building.” He laughed. “Sorry. You don’t need all that laid on you. Okay. I apologize. I just meant... I guess I was saying that I’m not going to change my mind. I already gave your girlfriend my answer. I’m not taking new patients.”

“You’ve got a short memory, Doc. I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. And I’m not sucking up to you for favors for her or anybody else.”