The Gamble (Colorado Mountain 1)

“So, essentially, you’re telling me to move to Colorado?”

“Nothin’ ‘essentially’ about it.”

“But, I live in Charlie’s house,” I whispered and held my breath.

He didn’t do what I thought he’d do or was conditioned to a man doing.

Instead, his face got even softer, his smile died and muttered, “Fuck.”

“Max –”

“You don’t want to let it go,” he surmised astutely.

“It’s all I have left of him.”

Max’s eyes held mine for a long time.

Then he sighed heavily, gave my neck a squeeze and declared, “We’ll work somethin’ out.”

This surprised me so much I didn’t process what he was saying.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’ll work somethin’ out.”

“What will we work out?”

“I don’t know, somethin’.”

“Max –”

He brought me even closer and he said in a voice that was strangely fierce and vibrating, “Listen to me, Duchess, you got somethin’ good, you got somethin’ solid, you find a way to work shit out. Your brother’s place means somethin’ to you then we’ll work somethin’ out.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed which was what, I suspected, if the moment was verbalized, any woman would breathe when she figured out she was falling in love with a Colorado Mountain Man she barely knew but that knowledge hit her with the certainty a freight train.

“What?” Max asked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly to cover.

He examined my face for a moment and he did this with an intensity that made me feel more than a little exposed before he said softly, “Crack.”

“Sorry?”

He smiled, looking satisfied, and finished, “In your shield.”

Yes, I was right. Exposed but more than a little.

Before I could say a word, he brought me to him, touched his mouth to mine and then, when he pulled away, he muttered, “We’ll talk tonight.”

Then he let me go, turned and got out of the Cherokee.

I followed but I did it a lot slower, mostly because my legs were shaking.

I rounded the hood and looked up at the extravagant house. A woman in a wheelchair was sitting waiting for us just outside the front door. She was watching me as I got close to Max; he took my hand and led us up the steps.

I was a little surprised by her. She had shining, heavy hair that wasn’t light brown but wasn’t dark either and had what appeared to be natural and appealing auburn highlights. She was dressed fashionably in a lovely, soft yellow sweater, jeans and boots, all, I noticed with a practiced eye, superb quality. She didn’t look like she lived in that chair. Instead she looked like she’d just sat down in it to take a load off. As we got close I saw she had a hint of a healthy, becoming tan and she was smiling at Max and me. Her smile was small but it was also genuine and friendly.

“Nina,” she said, “’spect you know I’ve heard a lot about you,” she finished and lifted her hand toward me when Max and I made it to within a few feet of her chair.

“Yes, I figured that,” I smiled back. “And you’re Bitsy,” I greeted, taking her hand.

She gave me a firm squeeze and then dropped mine.

“Yep, that’s me, Bitsy, new widow,” she replied and I realized under her healthy tan and smiling face, she looked tired. Her words weren’t sour, just real with a hint of forlorn she didn’t try to hide, both making them heartbreaking.

“I’m so sorry,” I said quietly.

“You, me and Shauna Fontaine are the only ones in town who are,” she responded with brutal honesty but still no bitterness, more like a sad understanding. Then she put her hands to the wheels of her chair, looked at Max and continued, “Hey Max, would you mind comin’ inside a sec before we take off?”

Without waiting for us to answer, she deftly turned her chair and wheeled herself into the house.

Max glanced at me and with a tug at my hand we followed. He let me go when we got into the massive foyer and he closed the door.

“Don’t mean to be rude, Nina,” Bitsy announced after she turned her chair toward us again, her voice was a bit hesitant. “But could you wait in the living room a minute while I talk with Max? Just need –”

I cut her off, letting her know she didn’t need to explain anything to me, she could have whatever she needed, saying, “That’s fine. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks.” She smiled again, a hint of relief in her expression now then she wheeled to my right and Max and I followed. She talked as she went. “You want a cup of coffee or a soda or somethin’?”

“No, thanks, I’m okay.”

She swept out a hand to the room and invited, “Make yourself at home. We won’t be long, promise.” Then her eyes went to Max before she pushed herself toward the door.

“Be back,” Max murmured, chucked me under the chin and then he went after Bitsy.

I watched them go then, in an effort not to think about what happened in the Cherokee (my habit of late, not thinking when I knew it would be far healthier, not to mention the whole bloody reason I took this adventure in the first place, to sort myself out), I walked to the floor to cathedral ceiling windows and looked at the view.

It was different than Max’s view considering it was on the opposite side of town and also on an opposite facing mountain. It was also somehow a little less spectacular, seeing as it wasn’t as far up the mountain which limited the vista.

There was something else about it that struck me as strange, so strange it made me slightly uncomfortable. In an effort to understand this bizarre feeling, I settled in and took in the view.

I could see the whole town, its short Main Street which I knew since I’d traversed it was only five blocks long, roads leading off it, more businesses on them a few doors in but houses after that.

To the left, just out of town, there was a plain covered in two baseball fields, their outfields butting against each other. I could see small stands on either side of the dugouts. Next to this two football fields running alongside each other separated by more bleachers. Small, white, concession stands at either side of the complex. Probably where little league was held in summer and Pop Warner football in the fall.

To the right, again partially out of town, the high school, not large but not small. Another football field, far more bleachers available for onlookers, lined lanes of a running track around its perimeter. A baseball field on the opposite side of the school. Both of these had lots of lights, bigger concession stands and looked more impressive.