Montana Standoff. Nadia Nichols
noticing the drink glasses on the coffee table in the living room. She looked at her brother. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked really handsome in that tuxedo.”
“You told me that yesterday.”
“I wanted to ask you if you could wear the same thing on my wedding day.”
“You already asked me, and I told you I would.”
Pony sighed. “All right. I was worried about you. You were so quiet, and you left the reception so early.”
“We’re talking about Jolly John Johnson’s wedding reception. At least I went, didn’t I? And I’m always quiet, remember?”
“Yes, but yesterday was different.” Pony sat on a stool at the counter and teased her brother with a smile. “Today, though, I can see that you’re doing okay.”
“Yeah. I went to a bar and picked up a woman. I did good, huh?” He grinned over his shoulder. Steven lifted the bacon out of the pan and laid it on a paper towel. “How many eggs do you want?”
“I can’t stay. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Steven drained the bacon fat from the pan. “You’re not. She got stung in the face by a bee yesterday and drove her car into a ditch. I offered to give her a ride home from the public meeting in Moose Horn which, by the way, we both attended. As it turns out, she’s the New Millennium Mining Company’s legal rep and she lives in Helena. You see? No hanky-panky going on.” He gave her a long significant stare and then repeated, “How many eggs?”
“One. So, she’s the high-priced attorney representing the corporate giant, and no doubt you’re representing the penniless environmentalists.”
“Some things just never change. Over easy, or sunnyside up?”
“Over easy.” Pony rested her elbow on the counter and her chin in the palm of her hand. She gazed speculatively at her brother. “And so. She spent the night?”
“It was late by the time the meeting adjourned. We were both hungry and she needed some first aid. Today we’ll pull her car out of the ditch and she’ll be on her way. Story over.”
Pony smiled as she slid off the stool. “Chapter one is over,” she corrected. “I’ll make the toast.”
MOLLY’S CAR WAS OUT of the ditch by eleven. The day was a beautiful blue-and-gold celebration of September, and though Molly was a city girl, she found the mountainous terrain compelling. She was almost disappointed when Steven’s Jeep pulled the Mercedes onto the roadway so easily, and she almost hoped he’d find something wrong with it, some reason why she couldn’t possibly drive back to Helena.
“She’s as sound as a dollar,” he said, levering himself out from beneath the vehicle where he visually checked the oil pan and the undercarriage. “These German cars are built like tanks.” He stood, dusted off his hands, and gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “You shouldn’t have any trouble driving home.”
Molly rummaged in her purse and peeled out a hundred dollars in an assortment of crumpled bills. “For food, first aid, and lodging,” she said, extending the offering. “I can’t thank you enough for all you did.”
“I don’t want your money,” Steven said.
“Please,” she pleaded. “If you don’t take it, I’ll spend the rest of my life feeling guilty for taking advantage of your incredible kindness.”
“I helped you out because I wanted to,” Steven said. “The only thing you should feel remotely guilty about is trying to sell the citizens of Moose Horn on a project like New Millennium Mining.”
Molly felt the sting of his words and replaced the money in her purse. Her chin lifted. “You see things a little differently than I do, Steven, but there’s nothing wrong with giving fair representation.”
“How long have you been working with mining companies?”
Molly’s chin crept higher and she felt her cheeks flush. “Eleven months.”
“Ah,” he said, as if her answer had effectively ended the conversation. He turned toward his Jeep.
“Listen, I know how you feel about New Millennium,” Molly said, “but technology really has made great strides. Responsible mining companies have learned from past projects how to better protect the environment. Times have changed.”
He glanced back. “Mining companies don’t give a damn about the environment or the resident human population, and they’re powerful enough to break all the laws and get away with it. The profits far outweigh the cost of a good conscience or the fines levied against them.”
“It’s not like that,” Molly protested.
“Isn’t it? You have a lot to learn. Maybe you should take a look at one of Condor International’s mines that’s currently operational to know that some things will never change. The Soldier Mountain uranium mine would be a good example of their ethics.”
“Where’s that?” she said, embarrassed once again by her ignorance.
“Just east of the Rocky Ridge Reservation on federal lands.”
“Show me.”
“It’s a long drive.”
“You said I have a lot to learn. I’d better get started, hadn’t I? When can we go?” Molly knew she was being blatantly forward, but she also knew she wanted to see this man again, very much, and he wasn’t trying to make that happen. No doubt he thought she was as incompetent as the rest of them did. Well, she wasn’t, and somehow she had to create the chance to prove that to him.
“You should see the pit on a weekday, while they’re working it.”
“All right. How about this Wednesday?”
Steven hesitated. “You don’t really need me along. Your credentials will get you through the gate.”
“Yes, that’s true. I could go alone, or I could ask Brad to take me. Brad’s already shown me two sites and both were very interesting. He pointed out what he wanted me to see, told me what he wanted me to know. If you really want me to understand this issue from your point of view, you need to do the same. I really want to see both sides of this coin, Steven. It’s important to me, and it should be equally important to you. Thursday?”
“I don’t know,” he hedged. “I’ll have to see what’s on the books.”
“Tomorrow, then…?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. You wouldn’t get the full effect.”
“I have an incredible imagination.”
He hesitated again, obviously reluctant to commit.
“If we leave here by 9:00 a.m., we should be in good shape, time-wise. I’ll pack the lunch, buy the gas, and drive.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger’s seat and climbed into the Mercedes. “I live at 244 Prospect Street, apartment four. Brick building, second-floor walk-up,” she said, turning the key in the ignition. The engine purred smoothly to life. Steven stood watching her, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, wearing the same inscrutable expression. She eased out on the clutch and the Mercedes moved forward. “Thanks again for everything, counselor,” she said, hoping he’d respond with something like, “See you tomorrow.”
But he didn’t. He just stood in silence and watched her drive away.
THAT AFTERNOON, as soon as she arrived back in Helena, Molly arranged to meet her best friend at their favorite café. Though the wait wasn’t long, she’d already shredded four paper cocktail napkins into confetti before she spotted Dani breezing through the door. “Thanks for coming so quickly,” she said as her friend dropped into a chair across from her.
“No problem at all. I happen to be starving, I didn’t eat breakfast this morning, so this