Free Angel's Rest by Emily March Page B

nearby table. He leaned his shoulder against the wall of windows and watched her, sipping his coffee, waiting for her to speak, and telling himself he didn’t notice the way the sunlightseemed to dance in her hair. When the silence stretched, he finally said, “All right, Dr. Nic. Spill it.”
    “The coffee?” She was the picture of innocence.
    He leveled a chiding look, and she offered up an apologetic shrug. “I’m trying to decide the best way to do this.”
    Gabe hoped she wasn’t working up the nerve to ask him for a date. While he recognized that neither one of them had intended it, the atmosphere surrounding last night’s dinner had ended up having too much intimacy for comfort. She was a nice woman, a beautiful woman, but he should have dropped the dog at the door and beat feet last night. “Nic—”
    “Gabe,” she said at the same time, “I want to ask your advice about an idea Celeste has proposed to help Eternity Springs’ economic state.”
    Oh. No romantic advances. Well, good
. Gabe relaxed and reached for a brownie. “My advice? That’s easy enough, I guess. I don’t know that you should put much stock in it, however.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, I think it might help if I set the scene a bit, first. Do you know anything about the history of this part of Colorado?”
    “A little.” Gabe lifted a brownie from the plate. “When I was a boy I was fascinated by the Alfred Packer story.”
    Nic grimaced at the reference to the only man in American history convicted of cannibalism. “Eew. What is it about boys? My friend Cam Murphy had that same fascination when we were growing up.”
    Gabe grinned, then tasted the brownie, and forgot all about history. “Wow. Just wow. This is good.”
    “Sarah Reese bakes the desserts for the Bristlecone Café. Her cheesecakes are even better.”
    “I have to start eating in town.”
    Nic sat back against the cushion, a smug smile flutteringon her lips. “That’s an excellent idea, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Are you familiar with Eternity’s founding fathers or the legend of how the town got its name?”
    “I recall that the name was derived from the local hot springs and the area’s isolation. Something about it taking an eternity for anyone to get here. I also know that Jack’s great-something-grandfather was a miner who discovered the rich vein of silver that provided the base of the family fortune.”
    “That was Lucien Davenport. He and Daniel Murphy and Harry Cavanaugh opened the Silver Miracle mine.”
    “So Celeste’s place—Cavanaugh House—belonged to Harry? That explains the silver bars we stumbled on last night.”
    “Money and murder. The sheriff told us that they found bullets with the bones—but that’s not why I’m here. Gabe, has Jack Davenport shared details about how his family ended up with Murphy Mountain or the conditions of the family trust?”
    “No.” Gabe helped himself to a second brownie.
    “It’s an involved story and I won’t go into all of it. If you’re curious, you can read the town history that Sarah’s father wrote. It’s in the Davenport library in town. What’s pertinent to my business here today is that Lucien Davenport was an early conservationist. He put the Murphy land in a trust that has prevented road construction or development, which meant that growth occurred in other parts of Colorado. In many ways, Eternity Springs hasn’t changed in over a hundred years.”
    “Colorado’s own version of Brigadoon,” he interjected. “You do know that Eternity’s isolation contributes to its charm.”
    “Yes, but it’s both a blessing and a curse. The town is dying, Gabe. We’ve been looking for ways to save it, and that’s where you come in.”
    He straightened and moved away from the window. “If you’re looking for a conduit to Jack Davenport in order to promote roads to ski resorts, you’re wasting your breath.”
    “No, that’s not it at all.”
    “You want an