The Snow Falcon (43 page)

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prospect of releasing her in the morning felt like a natural resolution, the ending he’d hoped for, but it also saddened him. He knew that he was going to miss going up into the mountains with her, watching her fly against the wide-open sky. He was also going to miss Jamie, and thinking of him—quiet, sometimes solemn—he frowned.

“You look like you could do with some company.”

He looked up at the sound of the voice. Rachel was there. “Does it show?”

She pulled up a chair and sat down. “Just a little. I came over with Alice, she works with me at the store. Are you going to the dance?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she said with faint irony. “It’s the major event of the year.” She reached into her bag, found some cigarettes, and offered him one. “That’s right, you quit.” She lit one herself.

Michael watched the flare of the flame in her eyes. It was the first time he’d seen her since the night they’d had dinner. “So how’ve you been?” he asked.

“You mean did I decide what to do about my marriage?”

She’d thought when she’d arrived home that morning that she would stay and that somehow she and Pete would work it out. Maybe it was because she’d had a chance in some small way to see what it would be like without him and she hadn’t taken it, which meant she really didn’t want it. That feeling had lasted a day, until he’d come home from wherever he’d been with Red Parker. He’d already spent whatever money he’d made and within ten minutes they were arguing. The fight had finished with him thrusting his finger at her face and telling her to get the fuck off his back; then he’d swept his arm across the supper dishes on the table and sent them all crashing to the floor.

“I can’t help him anymore,” she said. “He’s too angry and bitter with everything now, and I think I need to take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “I should have done this before. How about you? I saw a sign in the store saying you were closed. I had the feeling it was permanent.”

“It is.”

“You’re leaving?”

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“On Monday.”

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve thought about what happened at your house that night—or, should I say, what didn’t happen.” She smiled and hesitated before going on. “I wanted to call you, but I didn’t. Do you know why?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I kept thinking about that night, and I decided that if you’d maybe said the right thing, kissed me maybe, I would have stayed with you. But you didn’t.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. “You’re a beautiful woman, Rachel, it’s just that—

She put her finger against his mouth to stop him. “Don’t say any more. Maybe if this had been some other time…” She smiled to herself. “There was somebody out there that night, wasn’t there?”

“I don’t know.”

She regarded him skeptically. “Come on. Was it Susan Baker?”

He was surprised at that. “What makes you say that?”

“Woman’s intuition. Look, whatever’s going on between you two, it’s none of my business—

Michael interrupted. “There’s nothing going on.”

Rachel put out her cigarette. “Well, like I said, it’s none of my business.” She looked around at the bar, seeing everybody drinking and having a good time. “I’m going to go. I’m not in the mood for this.” She leaned over and quickly kissed him, then stood and picked up her bag. “Look, I’m going to say this whether it’s my business or it isn’t. We don’t get too many chances in this life, and I think you’ve already used up a few of yours. Just think about that, okay?”

He smiled at her. “I will.”

“Good luck, then.”

“And to you.”

Rachel raised a hand, gave him a final sad smile, and walked out the door, leaving him to think about what she’d said.

COOP WAITED AT the station house for Miller to arrive. He was sitting at his desk, holding a small velvet box that held a ring he’d inherited from his mother. He opened the lid, turning the box to catch the light. The ring was a solitaire diamond, a small, intricately shaped crystal.

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At that moment it was just a piece of jewelery, he thought, but with a few words it could change his life. He tried to imagine how he would feel if Susan were to wear it.

He thought it strange that the sum of all his hopes could be represented by an object so small. As the door opened, he flicked the box shut and palmed it into his pocket.

“Sorry I’m late,” Miller said.

“No problem.” Coop got to his feet. “I’m going to go home and get myself changed before I go over to the hotel. Everything quiet out there?”

“At the moment.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt it’ll stay that way. Just keep an eye on Clancys. I saw some guys in there earlier, drinking like they hadn’t seen beer for a year.”

“You think there’ll be trouble?”

Coop shrugged. “There’s always someone who’ll start something, you can be sure of that. You know where I am if you need me.”

“Sure, Coop. Have a good night.”

“Thanks.” Coop paused at the door, hesitating over his words. “Listen, Miller, don’t come for me unless it’s urgent, okay?”

“Okay.”

As Coop drove home, he saw Susan turn the corner onto Main Street in her Ford, on her way to the hotel, where he’d arranged to meet her; she didn’t see him. He caught just a glimpse of her, with her hair falling around her shoulders, and it made his heart jump in his throat. He kept going, pondering his nervousness. He felt like a school kid working up the nerve to ask for his first date, only the feeling was magnified about a thousand times.

At home, he turned on the kitchen light and got a bottle of bourbon from the cupboard. Pouring himself a small measure, he tossed it back in one swallow, savoring the sudden raw hit of liquor in the back of his throat. Then he went through to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

SUSAN SAT IN her Ford outside the hotel, trying to muster the will to go inside. People were arriving constantly, husbands and wives all dressed up, women with hair and makeup fixed with more care than

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they’d probably taken since the dance the year before. Susan smiled to herself, looking down at what she was wearing: a simple black dress she’d bought years ago and worn maybe half a dozen times. She glanced at the time and thought that Coop would be along soon; then she wondered about Michael and what he was doing. After he’d left the office, she’d sat down and stared blankly at her desk. Her anger had dissipated as quickly as it arrived, and she was left feeling numb.

Up and down Main Street, colored lights swung on their lines in the breeze. From where she was sitting in her Ford, she could see the bank and the grocery store; farther along were the diner and her office. A couple walked by, and when they saw her sitting there, they waved. It was Sally Crane and her husband, Alan. They had two kids, a boy and a girl, whose faces Susan could clearly picture, and if she thought hard enough, she would probably be able to remember their names. She didn’t know whether this made her feel good—that everything was comfortingly familiar—or whether she felt oppressed by it all.

She decided it was time she made some decisions in her life. She realized that Michael’s coming to Little River had changed her, snapped her out of the lethargy she’d been in for so long. She thought that maybe her feelings for him had something to do with viewing him as an escape. Maybe because Jamie had responded to Cully, she’d allowed herself to be caught up in the emotions that had awakened in her, but perhaps what she really ought to see was that she couldn’t allow either herself or Jamie to slip back into their old selves. She had to make decisions; they had to go forward with their lives. She couldn’t simply wait around any longer and hope that somehow things would just get better. Either she was going to up and leave Little River or she was going to stay, but either way it would be her decision, it would be what she wanted and thought was best for them both. If she stayed, maybe she would put things on a different footing with Coop. Settle that one way or the other, and Jamie would have to accept it, whatever she decided there, too. It was time she got a little tougher with him, made him see he had to start dealing with life.

With these thoughts in her mind, she got out of the car and crossed the street, entering the hotel with a new resolve, one she intended to stick to. As the music reached her and people said hello,

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she saw Linda and Pete Kowalski across the room and made her way toward them, thinking that tonight she might as well have a good time.

COOP KNEW THAT people were watching them. He’d never seen Susan look more beautiful than she’d looked as he’d come through the door. Her hair shone in the light and, when his fingers brushed against it, felt like satin. As they danced, he could smell her perfume, could feel her body moving against his through the material of her dress, and he was on top of the world. He felt the good-natured envy of guys he knew, and the other type of envy from one or two of the women. As he held her and they glided across the floor to a slow Crystal Gayle number, his hand rose high on her waist and brushed the cool flesh of her back. He allowed his fingers to rest there momentarily, against the ridge of her spine, and at his touch she looked at him and smiled. The words almost fell out of him then, in a rush.

The ring was in its case in his pocket. As they danced, he was aware of her hand resting on his shoulder, and he thought back to the times they’d kissed and he’d felt her start to respond. Each time she’d pulled away, as if she was suddenly scared of letting herself go. He thought maybe that was the trouble, that she was just afraid. Once she saw the ring, he thought, she’d know how serious he was, and maybe then she wouldn’t be scared anymore.

When they caught each other’s eye here and there, she smiled at him, her soft dark red lips parting to reveal the tips of white teeth, and though there was warmth in her expression, he could tell she was a little distant as well. There was a brief moment when she looked through him and off into some inner distance. He wondered if she was thinking of the past or the future, or of something else.

Sometimes it was best not to know everything about people, or to question all they did, because everybody had private spaces where the doors stayed locked and it was best for others not to go. He loved her, that’s all he knew. He wanted to marry her and be with her and raise Jamie, and if he couldn’t be the boy’s father, he could at least be his friend, and one day Jamie would understand that and would stop fighting him.

The music stopped, and couples moved back toward their tables.

“Shall we get a drink?” Susan asked.

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Coop led her back to the table, and she asked for a glass of wine. Going to the bar, he met Linda, who paused as she squeezed past him and put her hand on his arm.

“How’re things, Coop?”

“Fine,” he said, and she let him go, smiling encouragement. Back at their table, Susan thanked him when he brought her drink. It was only her second, and she was taking it slowly.

He sat down beside her and saw she was looking at the new clothes he was wearing.

“Have you been shopping, Coop?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I was in Williams Lake.”

“Oh? What were you doing there?”

“Just some police business.”

He watched the dancing couples. The hotel was packed with people now, as if half the town was there. He was pleased she’d noticed the way he was dressed. The fact was, he’d gone over to Williams Lake first thing in the morning just because he thought he should make some kind of a special effort.

“By the way, I like your dress,” he said. “You look terrific.”

“Thank you.” She laid her hand on his arm, just briefly.

Al Taylor came over and Coop got up to talk for a minute, though Al’s conversation never got much beyond the bad times he was going through with his business. Coop half listened to an account of the latest disaster. George Pederson took the chance to sneak in and ask Susan to dance, and she went with him. Coop half watched them as George hammed it up on the dance floor, twirling Susan and catching her around the waist again. One thing about George, he could dance; he was as light on his feet as any man Coop had ever seen. He was glad Susan seemed to be having a good time. At one point she looked over and flashed a sympathetic look as Al went on bending his ear.

Coop got his chance to dance with her again after Al left to find himself a more attentive audience. She seemed happier now than when he’d arrived; the faraway look in her eye had gone. As they got back to the table, dinner was being set out. He asked if she was ready to eat.

“Now that you mention it, I’m starving.”

“I’ll get you a plate. Little of everything okay with you?”

“Not too much potato salad.” She patted her stomach.

While Coop waited in line, he decided that after they’d eaten he

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would ask her outside for a walk. He felt for the ring in his pocket to make sure it was still there. Suddenly he didn’t feel hungry anymore, and there was a tight nervous feeling in his throat. When he got back to the table, Susan looked at her own piled plate and his smaller one and raised her eyebrows.

“What are you trying to do to me, Coop?”

“I had something earlier,” he said, but his voice must have sounded strange because she gave him an odd look.

“You’re okay, aren’t you?”

“Sure, I’m fine.”

Linda and Pete arrived at the table with their food and a bottle of wine, and while they ate, the Saunderses joined them. Coop couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation, half watching Susan eat every mouthful.