Free Montana Standoff by Nadia Nichols Page A

he felt her eyes studying him. “Of course, that could all change in a moment’s notice,” she said. “We neverknow when we’re going to meet that special someone that tips us right over the edge.”
    â€œI guess not,” Steven said. She was so young, so naive, so painfully innocent. Still believing in that dream, still waiting for true love to tip her over the edge. But no boyfriend? That surprised him, given her natural beauty and lively personality, though he did understand about the rigors of law school. He’d spent all his time immersed in textbooks, struggling to make passing grades. Dating had been the farthest thing from his mind. He glanced at her briefly before focusing his attention back on the road. Her features were soft in the dusky light, her eyes dark, mysterious hollows in the milky paleness of her face.
    â€œWhenever I see an old couple strolling along, holding hands, I know that someday I want to have a relationship like that,” she said, looking out the side window. “I want to be holding my husband’s hand when I’m eighty years old, and still thinking of him as my lover and my best friend.” She was quiet for a few moments and then he felt her eyes on him again. “I learned a lot today, Steven,” she said softly. “Thank you for your patience with me.”
    W HEN S TEVEN PULLED UP in front of Molly’s apartment building, her heart rate accelerated with anxiety. Their time together was rapidly running out and in spite of her attempts to reach a deeper level of communication with him, he had remained impersonally friendly. She felt vulnerable and foolish for confiding her feelings about true love, yet in spite of Steven’s maddening reticence, she found him very easy to talk to. She only wished hewould reveal a little more of himself, and show a lot more interest in her. But unless he suddenly opened up in a big hurry, it seemed their nonexistent relationship was about to come to an abrupt end.
    â€œWould you like to come in?” she said, a clumsy shyness nearly overwhelming her ability to speak. “I owe you a meal, and I’m a great cook, especially if you like boiled cabbage. You could admire my original Remington print while I prepare you an authentic Irish supper.”
    â€œThanks for the offer, but I’ll have to take a rain check,” Steven responded. “It’s getting late, and tomorrow’s a working day for the both of us.” He climbed out of the Jeep, opened her door, and took her hand to help her out, something no man had ever done before and he’d already done twice. He walked her up the flight of stairs and when she fumbled with the key, fingers trembling with nervousness, he took it from her, opened the door, and handed it back without a word.
    She hesitated in the doorway, desperately trying to think of a way to keep this from being a forever goodbye. Was it possible that love at first sight could happen to one person, while the other remained indifferent? Was it possible that Steven didn’t feel any of that special chemistry that flowed between them at all? “Thank you for the ice-cream cone.”
    â€œYou’re very welcome.”
    Another painful pause. “If I can’t convince you to come inside with promises of boiled cabbage and Remington prints, I guess this is good night, Steven Young Bear.” She hoped on the one hand that she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt, and on the other that he would sweep her into his arms and kiss her breathless.
    â€œGood night, Molly Ferguson,” he said as he turned away.
    â€œWait,” she said, taking an involuntary step after him and damning herself even as she did. “Aren’t you going to ask what my thoughts are about New Millennium Mining after today’s field trip?”
    He paused, glancing back. “I know what they are.”
    â€œBut…” She floundered in another wave of