father had finished his conversation and was walking toward them.
Erika asked Jeff, “Are you going to be okay?”
The boy nodded.
As Lindstrom beckoned his son to come with him, Jeff stuffed the paper she’d given him with her number into his pocket and crossed to his dad.
After a few minutes of considering her conversation with the boy, Erika decided what she was going to do. Following the hall back to the infirmary, she found Dillon in his office. He was filling in information on a patient’s online chart.
His door was open but she rapped anyway.
When he looked up, he saw her, but his expression was unreadable as he said, “Come in.” She realized he’d had a busy morning. Two guests had gone hiking and had fallen; another guest had expressed a problem with dizziness. Later, an older gentleman had rushed in with a nosebleed that wouldn’t quit. Erika had already learned Dillon didn’t let his chart work back up, and he e-mailed duplicate copies of the guests’ infirmary visits to their family physicians. So he had a lot of info to enter.
“Did you have lunch?” she asked as an opener, not knowing where else to begin.
“Not yet. Ruthann just arrived. I’ll take a break in a little while.”
“I can pick you up something at the deli and bring it in.”
“I told you before, Erika, that’s not your job. You’re not here to wait on me.”
No, she wasn’t. She was going to make a place for herself on this management team and become an asset to Thunder Canyon Resort.
“I was just in the lobby and Jeff Lindstrom asked to talk to me,” she began, trying to keep her heart from tripping too fast.
“How is he?” Dillon’s voice was full of obvious concern for the boy.
“He’s fine. But feeling guilty.”
“About?” Dillon stood and came around the desk to where she was standing.
“Employees getting fired because of him. He told me he’d made a friend. This friend had given him half a chocolate bar and assured him there weren’t any nuts in it.”
It was obvious Dillon was surprised. “He actually told you that?”
“Is it so difficult to believe an eight-year-old has a conscience and would confide in me?” she asked a bit defensively.
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean it that way. Did he tell his father?”
She shook her head. “Mr. Lindstrom was in the lobby, too, and Jeff didn’t seem ready. But he knows he has to now that he confided in me.”
Dillon took another step closer to her. “Jeff coming to you was important. This cuts off the lawsuit at its knees … unless the boy denies the whole thing again.”
“I don’t think he will.”
Dillon’s golden-brown gaze was powerful as he suggested, “Denial is a great defense mechanism. We think it keeps us safe, but it really doesn’t. The truth isn’t far underneath.”
She was intuitive enough to know Dillon wasn’t talking about Jeff now. “Sometimes the truth can hurt, or put one in a dangerous situation.”
“Dangerous? In some ways.” He paused to study her. “I’m still thinking about that kiss. Are you?”
“Yes,” she admitted on a sigh. Something about Dillon Traub demanded honesty.
“Do you feel if you became involved with me, you’d be putting your job in jeopardy?”
“I’ve thought about that … and other things.”
“What other things?”
“I’ve been the butt of gossip before. I don’t want to be again.”
“That’s one thing. What’s another?”
“Emilia. Even if I were willing to take a risk for myself, I can’t take risks with her.”
“But there’s still more, isn’t there?”
“I don’t have time to spare … not with Emilia and work and—”
“Okay, I get the idea. But I don’t think I’m wrong about the attraction between us, am I?”
If she answered, she’d be putting too much power in his hands. She lowered her gaze, choosing not to let him see what was going on inside of her.
He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Erika?”
If she stood here much longer, she might end up in his arms! There was a magnetic pull toward him that could sweep her off her feet if she let it. But she had to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground. The touch of his finger on her skin, however, gave her thoughts wings. She couldn’t seem to capture even one of them at the moment.
She had her purse slung over her shoulder and now her cell phone rang from inside of it. Saved by “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”—Emilia loved to hear the song play on her phone—Erika dug in her purse. “I’d better get this.” Opening the phone, she saw the caller ID and froze. It was Zane Gunther’s manager! She couldn’t believe it.
“Mr. Nolan! Hello. It’s so good to hear from you.” Even if it was bad news, at least she’d gotten this far.
“Miss Rodriguez?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry. I was just so excited to receive your call.”
The man had amusement in his voice when he asked, “So you think this is going to be good news?”
“I can hope, can’t I?”
“Well, you must have been doing a lot of hoping since you first called me. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Mr. Gunther has accepted your offer to appear at Frontier Days for the fee Mr. Clifton has offered to pay. He has one request, though.”
She felt like jumping up and down for joy, spinning in a circle, grinning from now until next year. “Anything!”
“He would like a secluded place to stay before he performs.”
She’d discussed this possibility, too, with Grant and had a couple of options. “We’d be pleased to give Mr. Gunther one of the penthouse suites, though that would be in the main lodge. A second choice would be for him to stay in one of the vacant condos. They’re down the mountain a ways. A third option would be the most secluded. We have a few isolated cabins kept for dignitaries. They’re off the beaten path and no one has to know he’s there.”
“That sounds perfect. Except … is the cabin large enough for anyone besides Zane?”
“The cabins are really more like small villas. Each has two bedrooms and a full kitchen as well as a dining and sitting
