Hidden Summit

town—strangers stand out like a sore thumb. Just like you can’t slip in and out of here without being noticed, neither can anyone else, like anyone who might be looking for you. We’re buried in the mountains, Conner. That’s why Max picked it for you.”
    “Makes me a little nervous. I want to get to the trial so I can end this....”
    “I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know.”
    And then she came in—Leslie. It was as if the door opened and let spring inside—she was that pretty, that fresh. He wished it could be otherwise because this was going to be problematic, but he felt the instant attraction. Like a swelling in the chest, a lift in the heart, a beam in the eyes. If he were a single guy without complications and if she weren’t involved somewhere else, she would have been exactly the kind of woman he’d want to sit down and get to know.
    “Well, it’s been a long day,” he said to Brie. “See you around.”
    Conner knew he was as welcome as anyone in that construction trailer for a cup of coffee or maybe a little conversation, but he resisted. He packed a lunch and filled his own thermos of coffee back at his little cabin. The bathrooms were functional in the houses he was working on with Dan, and the weather was warming up and drying out.
    It was Leslie he avoided for the first two weeks he worked for Paul Haggerty. Every time he saw her he found her even prettier than the day before. Her dark eyes, so unusual on her fair face with light hair, twinkled when she smiled, and her laugh was as sweet as a melody. When he was around her, though seldom, he enjoyed her bright mood. Yet he had a dark streak of disapproval—the “Sunday-school teacher” was messing with a married man. Not something that gave him a warm flush of desire for her. But he couldn’t deny it—he was attracted.
    Still, there were things he couldn’t help but like about her. Her sense of humor, for one thing. She made all the guys laugh, even when she was barking orders at them. Even Conner, who hadn’t been a real happy-go-lucky kind of guy lately, found himself smiling. Despite her feminine appearance, she ran a tight ship. She insisted people wipe their feet, clean their coffee mugs, and although she was one woman among many men, God help the one who left the toilet seat up!
    After a couple of weeks he was starting to feel the strain of his solitary life. Trying to go low-profile caused him to act aloof and unconnected. Sometimes he went to Jack’s for a beer and dinner after work, but more often he drove down the mountain to Fortuna. He’d get groceries and something easy from a deli for dinner in his cabin. Occasionally he’d try a different restaurant or stop at a diner or coffee shop. And he’d always sit in his truck in the parking lot where his cell reception was good and have a conversation with Katie before she and the boys went to bed. He had to call them early—Katie was on eastern time.
    That always sent a pang of sadness through him, that she liked to sleep to avoid long, lonely evenings. His beautiful sister should be among friends, should have a boyfriend. That he was lonely didn’t really matter. He couldn’t stand to think of Katie that way.
    After talking to Katie on Saturday afternoon, he decided on a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. There was Starbucks, but he liked that place where he’d met Brie—a gaudy, girlie, turquoise place filled with fragile-looking furniture he was afraid to sit on. He always chose to sit up at the counter on a sturdy stool. Once there, he ordered his coffee and pie.
    And she came in. Leslie. She didn’t notice him. She was wearing some kind of leotard thing under her coat, and her hair looked kind of all over the place. And she did what she did best, laughed with the man behind the coffee bar who served her. They laughed as if they were best friends. Then she took her tall iced tea and her small muffin and went over to one of those delicate-looking miniature couches and settled in to check the messages on her cell phone. She must do as so many mountain residents did—check messages and return calls when and where there was reception.
    Conner raised one finger as he would in a bar, and the guy came over. “Can I have that coffee and pie to go?” he said.
    “Sure,” the young blond guy said. “Everything all right?”
    “Perfect. I’ve got a roasted chicken in the truck and I’m going to take it home and nuke it for dinner, then chase it with the