Whitewater Rendezvous

I was just too damn afraid of it all happening again. Making myself vulnerable enough for someone to be able to cut me so deeply.” She put a hand gently on Chaz’s thigh. “I really trust you. And I have to say…that I feel things for you that I never felt for Rita.”

“Thank you for telling me about her,” Chaz said.

“I want you to know everything.”

“As I want you to know everything about me.” Chaz hated that Megan had suffered so in her relationship with Rita, but she felt almost giddy that she had pushed past all of that in order to fi nd her in Alaska.

“So does that mean you’re up for my coming to Chicago?”

“Well, I think we have another alternative that might be better,”

Megan said, as Chaz’s cabin came into view in the distance.

“Do we?” Chaz asked.

“This assignment could turn into something more long term.”

Chaz’s heartbeat picked up. “Defi ne long term.”

Megan was watching her intently. “Well, it could be permanent, if that’s what we both want.”

The truck ground to a halt. Chaz turned to her. “Permanent?”

“If that’s what we both want,” Megan repeated. “You don’t have to decide today.” She gestured at the road. “Come on. Keep going.”

Chaz put the truck into gear. “How is it possible?”

“Well, I pitched an idea to the network president, my boss. I told him I wanted to start up an environmental unit—that it was high time WNC had one—to do documentaries in the public interest.”

“And he went for it?”

“Well, I had to threaten to resign fi rst, to show him I was serious that’s the only way I would continue with the company,” Megan said.

“He likes me well enough that he wanted to keep me on the payroll.”

“But how can you be here permanently?”

“Well, that was one of my conditions. That I would be based wherever I choose. I’ll be on the road some, of course, but it won’t be too bad.”

Chaz shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’d do all this for me.”

“Why? You were ready to do it for me.” Megan’s staff couldn’t believe it at fi rst either, and she knew it appeared to most like a pretty monumental change she was making in her life. But the decision had actually been pretty simple when it came right down to it. “I get to be

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KIM BALDWIN

with you, in Alaska…which I’ve grown rather fond of, by the way. And I’ll get to do something I feel passionate about. Something that might make a difference. Besides, I was beginning to be very unhappy with where I was, without you there.”

The truck came to a stop in front of a well-kept one-story log cabin. A matching garage sat off to one side. In every direction were magnifi cent, snowcapped mountains, and behind the cabin there was a picturesque lake, already frozen over except for a few small patches of open water that glistened in the sunlight. It couldn’t have been more inviting.

“We’re here,” Chaz said, shutting off the engine and turning to Megan. “Welcome. Welcome home.”

O

Megan paused just inside the doorway, her eyes taking in the comfortable and homey great room as Chaz darted about, picking up a sweater she had thrown over a chair, the loose mail on the coffee table, the empty coffee cup from that morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” Chaz said. “Please…come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get a fi re going and pour us some wine. How does that sound?”

“That would be lovely,” Megan answered.

A massive stone fi replace dominated one wall. The other walls were crowded with bookshelves, jammed to overfl owing with books and with framed photographs from Chaz’s travels. Her concertina, unlatched as though it had been recently played, sat on an end table beside the couch.

Everywhere was evidence of Chaz’s love of the out-of-doors.

Snowshoes hung above the mantel, cross-country skis and poles were propped in one corner. Inuit art and sculptures were scattered about, on bookshelves and in small glass display cases. Megan wandered about the room, taking things in, as Chaz built a fi re.

Within a few minutes, a cheery blaze was going, and Chaz lit a few candles to add to the romantic ambience. Then she excused herself to get some wine from the kitchen.

“Join me,” she said, when she returned to settle on the couch in front of the fi re, with two glasses of Lambrusco.

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