Hummingbird Lake by Emily March Read Free Book Online Page B

shouldn’t,” Melody said, offering a sheepish smile. “But the chocolate cake here is divine and I have no willpower at all.”
    “Then by all means, let’s order dessert.” He signaled the waiter and smothered his impatience. She was a nice lady, friendly, intelligent, and interesting. Under other circumstances, he’d have been happy to prolong the meal. But ever since he’d scanned the society section of the local newspaper while waiting in the hotel lobby for Melody to arrive, he’d been anxious for the meal to be done. He had somewhere he wanted to go. Someone he wanted to see.
    He gave their dessert orders, then Melody said, “At the risk of sounding like a suck-up, I want to tell you again how informative and fascinating I found your presentation today, Colt. You really know how to get people’s attention.”
    “Graphic photographs will do that.”
    She shook her head. “No. The photos were part of it, true, but it’s the narratives that will haunt me. So much tragedy that a little bit of planning and precaution could have prevented. What you said, the way you said it, connected with people. They won’t forget it.”
    “Good. Maybe they’ll be more aware and save me some work.”
    “You mean save lives.”
    “The less work my team has, the better.”
    “Amen to that. I have to admit, though, your presentation leaves me a bit nervous. My husband is a sales rep for a plastics distributor and he’s in and out of a lot of factories. I hope they’re all doing what they’re supposed to be doing safety-wise.”
    As Colt searched for a more comforting response to that than Probably not , their desserts arrived. The interruptionmade it easy to change the subject, so after the waiter poured coffee and departed, he asked, “Are you familiar with an art gallery called Art on the Bricks?”
    She brightened. “I am. The owner is a baseball fan. He has tickets in the same section as ours at Rangers Ballpark.”
    “Is the gallery far from downtown?”
    “No, it’s a five-minute car ride from here. It’s near the Kimbell Art Museum.”
    Colt nodded. He knew where the Kimbell was located. He’d passed it on the way from his downtown hotel to the speaking venue. “I saw a newspaper ad about a reception they’re having tonight. It’s open to the public and I’d like to go. Would you care to join me?”
    “I’d love to join you. Thank you.”
    “Your husband won’t come after me with a gun or something for keeping you out longer than expected?”
    She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Nothing to worry about. He had poker night earlier this week when our two-year-old was teething, so he owes me.”
    They talked about her children as the valet brought her car around, then on the short drive to the gallery she asked him about the reception. “Are they showing a new artist?”
    “Yes. A woman from a little town in Colorado where I vacation, Eternity Springs. Her name is Sage Anderson. Are you familiar with her work?”
    “No, I’m afraid not, but I do know Eternity Springs. It’s a great little town. We spent a week there a few summers ago. Out of the way and not much to do there, but it’s so gorgeous, so beautiful.”
    “Yes, it is.” And so was one of its residents. Sage Anderson. Dr. Sage Anderson. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Colt and Melody discussed Eternity Springs until they arrived at the gallery and discovered that they shared a few acquaintances, most memorably the mountain manwho went by the name Bear. “My husband hired Bear as a guide to teach him and our eight-year-old how to fly-fish. He’s quite a character. He and our son hit it off, though, so Bear took us up to his private land to fish. It has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.”
    “Oh, yeah? I’ve never been there. Where is his place?”
    “Up by Heartache Falls.”
    Colt flashed her a grin. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll have to see what I can do about wrangling an invitation myself next time I’m up