get up early. I like getting it out of the way.”
“Is this a house call?” she asked, teasingly.
“We don’t make house calls,” he said. “We do reach out sometimes, but if you ask me not to—”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s very nice, in fact.”
“Then I’ll take a chance and ask you if there’s anything you need. I’ve been around here a long time. And I’ve been in the program a long time.”
She’d heard at the meeting. “Thirty years,” she said. “That’s a long time, all right. Either you were pretty young or you’re pretty old.”
There was the glimmer of a smile, but it was small and showed no teeth. “Both.”
“Either you know the ropes by now or you’ve been a real tough case.”
This time he did show teeth. He even gave a huff of laughter. “Both,” he said again. “Think you’ll be around awhile?”
“I hope so,” she said. “My brother and his wife are expecting. I wouldn’t want to miss that. But this was a leap of faith. It’s quite a change. A beautiful change, but still...”
“You staying with your brother, then?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My sister-in-law’s dad owns a campground just outside of town and he loaned me a cabin. So I have a place of my own but I’m kind of with family at the same time. It’s private, but...”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Sully’s place?”
“You know Sully?” she asked.
“I think everyone knows Sully. Maggie is your sister-in-law?”
“And you know Maggie?”
“Sierra, I live here. In three weeks you’ll know everyone.”
“And you go to meetings here? In town?”
He nodded. “I think the word is out on me. I don’t talk about anyone else’s business. You going to stick to Leadville?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I did notice they have a meeting for everything in Leadville.”
“That’s for sure,” he agreed. “So, you have a place to stay, know where the meetings are, have family around—that can be good or not, depending. Anything you need right now?”
“Not right now,” she said. “I’ll be looking for a sponsor, but for right now I still have my last sponsor by phone. We talk all the time.”
He took out a pen, grabbed a napkin and wrote his name and cell number on it. “While you’re checking things out and meeting people, here’s my number. Why don’t you use it sometime. Check in with me until you get a new sponsor.”
“I don’t expect to need anything, Moody, but—”
“Then just check in to say hello,” he said. “It’s a good idea to have an anchor or two. Floating around without connections can be risky.”
“Okay, sure,” she said, taking the napkin, folding it in half and slipping it in the pocket of her shorts. “But I’ll probably see you around.”
“How you doing on the steps?”
“Oh, I ran through the steps. I’m spending a little extra time on number eight. And ten—seems like there’s an endless amount of accounting.”
He sipped his coffee. “Remembering more or admitting more?” he asked. When she didn’t answer immediately, he said, “Maybe we’ll have coffee after a meeting sometime. Talk about the steps?”
“I thought that might happen after the last meeting but I guess everyone was either rushing off to work...or maybe busy with that guy who was having a hard time. Mark.”
“Mark shows up sometimes. I’m always glad to see him,” Moody said. And he said nothing more. It was like a contract. These stories were shared in the meeting but nowhere else. Not everyone played by the rules, but they were expected to, nonetheless.
The bell on the door tinkled and in walked Adonis. Well, except he didn’t have that black Greek hair. His hair was brown and his eyes so blue she could see them from the door. Sierra felt her heart catch. That meant he must be a bad idea. But the sheer height of him and the girth of his shoulders was almost shattering. His T-shirt was tight over his chest and arms; there was a firefighter’s emblem on one pec. She had to concentrate to keep from sighing. She wondered, not for the first time, if absolute beauty was a requirement to be a firefighter.
His eyes twinkled at her. But he said, “Hey, Moody.” And he stretched out his hand toward Moody. “How’s the weather?”
“It’s nice,” he grumbled. “But it’s bound to turn. Connie, meet a new waitress. Sierra this is Connie. Connie this is Sierra.”
“Conrad,” he said. “Connie for short. Nice to meet you.”
That big, meaty hand swallowed up her small hand.
And she gulped.
Life is thickly sown with thorns, and I know no other remedy than to pass quickly through them. The longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us.
—Voltaire
SIERRA HAD AN unfortunate history of being involved with men who were not good for her, but a lot of that could be blamed on alcohol. Or maybe she started out with perfectly good men and destroyed the relationships with alcohol. At this point it was pretty irrelevant since there hadn’t been a man in her life in a long time. Nor alcohol. The last one, Derek, had been so toxic and dangerous she not only swore off men, she ran to rehab. No one could get to you in rehab. Just the people you put on your list as approved visitors.
She felt the calluses of Connie’s strong, large hand, looked into those blue eyes and told herself, It doesn’t really matter who he is—I’m off men. But she couldn’t deny it—there was a tingle as his hand enveloped hers.
“Nice to meet you. Do you prefer Conrad or Connie?”
“Everyone calls me Connie no matter what I might prefer. I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I haven’t been here long.”
“And what miracle had you choose Timberlake?” he asked, smiling. Smiling like a man who thought he might get laid.
“Do you know Cal and Maggie Jones? I’m Cal’s sister.”
The big man’s smile vanished instantly.
