Free Mountain Mystic by Debra Dixon

the saddle.”
    “So I’m paying for someone else’s mistakes?”
    “How do you know it wasn’t all my fault?” she asked.
    He shot her an irritated glare for sidestepping the original question. With one finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. “Was your marriage important to you?”
    A prickly feeling ran up her spine, and Victoria had the strangest feeling that if she weren’t careful, Joshua would see right into her soul. “Yes, it was.”
    “I believe you, because I saw you today, dealing with people, dealing with something that mattered to you. You’re not the kind of woman who’d let her marriage slip through her fingers for lack of effort.” Backing away, Joshua ordered, “Answer the question, Vicky. Am I paying for his mistakes or not?”
    Victoria let out the breath she’d been holding. “Yeah, that about sums it up. Better safe than sorry is my new motto. What about you, Joshua? Why aren’t you involved with someone? Or are you?”
    For a heartbeat, Joshua thought about answering truthfully and telling her that he was involved with too many people, most of them dead. But he couldn’t tell her without explaining, and he didn’t want to explain yet.
    “You’re as close to an involvement as I’ve gotten ina long time. I came up here to start over, to get a little peace and quiet.”
    “Then kissing me doesn’t make a whole lot of sense!”
    “Some things just happen, love. Whether we’re ready for them or not. You surprised the hell out of me. The last complication I wanted was a woman. Then there you were, right smack in the middle of my bed. I figured the guy upstairs was trying to tell me something. What do you think it was?”
    “I wouldn’t begin to guess.” Victoria decided it was time to end the questions, so she waved the phone in silent explanation that she needed to make the call. She punched in the number for her office. “Could I have some paper and a pencil?”
    “On the end table behind you.”
    While Victoria waited for her machine to pick up and then replay the messages, she noticed the Indian arrowheads in shadowboxes on Joshua’s walls. “Did you find all these yourself? There must be—”
    “Over two hundred. I found most of them when I was a kid.”
    “They’re beautiful,” she mused as she stared at the largest of the boxes, which contained the head of a tomahawk flanked by arrowheads so pristine, they didn’t look like they’d ever been used. “They’re all so different.”
    “Different time periods. Different cultures. Different game to be hunted. Different skills.”
    Victoria wanted to ask more, but her messages started to play, and she had to forget about the shadowboxes.After a few minutes of writing she pulled the phone away from her ear and asked, “How do I hang this thing up?”
    “Here. I’ll do it.”
    When he reached for the receiver, he saw Victoria catch her breath. Joshua clicked the phone off and dropped into a large leather recliner that swallowed even him. “You can relax, Victoria. Now that I know the rules, I won’t cross the line again until you invite me.”
    “Are you offering a truce?”
    “I guess so. You haven’t left me much choice.” Joshua thought he saw some of the tension leave her as she put down the pencil and tore off the top sheet of paper on which she’d written her notes. As she folded the sheet, he suggested, “Sit down. Tell me what you think about the house. You’re my first visitor.”
    “Do you want my honest opinion?”
    “No. I want you to lie and say it’s a great house.”
    “But it is.” Victoria admired the long wall of windows on the far side of the room which looked out over the mountains. Unfortunately, the forested peaks were fading from view as night fell. “The scenery is remarkable, and the furniture is simply amazing. It’s so … big.”
    “I had to have that sofa made to order.”
    Glancing at a piece of furniture that could have passed for a cruise ship, Victoria asked,