for therapy, so Rachel and Mikel left. Pausing by her car in the parking lot, he said, “How about letting me take you to dinner tonight? It’s my turn.”
“Do you like fish?”
Strange thing about women, they almost never answered precisely what was asked. “All kinds,” he told her.
“Good. Because this, like every Friday, is fish-fry night in the U.P.”
“In that case, you choose where.”
“Metrovich’s is usually good But we’ll need to get there early before they run out of perch—it’s their specialty. Say five-thirty.”
He nodded. “I’ll drive. About this Johnny Appleseed deal. I’ve never talked to a Girl Scout troop before.”
She smiled, rather smugly, he thought. “Don’t worry, the girls will hang on your every word.”
He eyed her dubiously.
“As for the tree planting,” she added, “I’ll give you a quick run-through ahead of time. You can read up on the original Johnny later tonight.”
“My bedtime story? Okay, but I’ve never been one for planting things.”
“Tell them that. They’ll listen to you, watch you plant a seedling and be impressed that this cool guy is interested in trees. You’ll make a great role model.”
His eyebrows rose. “I’ve been called lot of things, but never that.”
“Consider it from their point of view. They may like me, but I’m just their predictable Scout leader who’s always going on about what’s important. You’re a—well, let’s say a noticeable man from somewhere other than the U.P., as they can tell by the way you talk.”
“A ‘noticeable’ man? Because I’m a stranger?”
She eyed him levelly. “You’re the kind of man girls notice. Especially since you always wear black—or at least you have since I’ve known you.”
He blinked. Wearing black had gotten to be a habit without him noticing. Bad for a special agent to do something that identifiable. He’d get some other clothes when he left here. Smiling at her, he asked, “So you think girls notice me? How about a particular young woman?”
“Under the circumstances surrounding your arrival, I could hardly help it.” Her words were cool enough, but he noted her flush with interest. So the attraction wasn’t only on his side.
Rachel, unhappily aware of her blush, tried to ignore it. “I assume,” she continued, “since you’re searching for a missing girl, you’re some kind of private investigator, which will also fascinate the girls.”
Though he didn’t say yes, he didn’t deny it, so Rachel decided she’d hit the nail on the head. She couldn’t help wondering who’d hired him to hunt Renee Reynaud down. And why, after fourteen years? If she was careful and clever, maybe she could find out.
“I have errands, so I’ll see you back at the house later,” she said. He promptly opened the driver’s door for her and she slid in, saying, “Bye.”
While doing her grocery shopping, she kept reviewing her clothes, trying to decide what to wear tonight. There was no decent place to shop for clothes in town and she certainly wasn’t going to drive forty miles just to buy an outfit to go to Metrovich’s, which was a casual kind of place.
Still, it mattered to her how she’d look. Because of Mikel. Surely the man knew he appealed to women. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. And, just possibly, the most dangerous. But she’d rather not dwell on that.
She pictured him planting seedlings with the girls in her troop and snickered. He was the least likely Johnny Appleseed in the world. Aino tended to outlandish notions, such as the black barn, but using Mikel as a substitute was one she could appreciate.
Arriving back at the farm, Rachel noted Mikel’s car was not parked by the cottage. She was carrying in the last grocery bag when she noticed him pull into the driveway and watched surreptitiously from the kitchen window as he lifted a small box from his car and took it with him into the cottage along with a plastic grocery bag. Shrugging, she turned away. There was no reason and probably nothing to learn from spying on him. If she didn’t label it spying, then she’d have to admit she liked to look at him.
He moved like an athlete, no wasted motion, graceful and purposeful as a wolf. Since wolves had been reintroduced to the U.P., she’d spotted one or two and been impressed. Predators. Beautiful predators. Like Mikel.
A predator she was having dinner with tonight. What should she wear? Everything she owned could be classified as respectable. For most of her life she hadn’t wanted to attract undue attention. She sort of camouflaged herself—like prey. Which she was not!
Upstairs, she riffled through the hangers in her closet and sighed. Nothing. Heaven knows anything at all would be okay for Metrovich’s, but she was determined to look different tonight in some way or other. Struck by a thought, she hurried into Eva’s bedroom. Eva was a tad more buxom than she, top and bottom, but just maybe there was something Eva hadn’t packed when she left for Finland.
A half hour passed before she triumphantly carried out a pair of sleek black leather pants and a see-through black silk blouse. The pants fit her perfectly, not too tight, but revealing enough to suit her present mood. As for the ruffled blouse, once she dug up the only black bra she owned, the blouse would complement the leather pants to perfection. It amused her to think that, if Mikel dressed as usual, they’d both be wearing black. She enjoyed the idea she’d be making a statement.
Smiling, she tossed the clothes onto her bed and went downstairs to fix lunch before she began the afternoon chores. After eating, she located the book that had the story of Johnny Appleseed in it and also a pamphlet on tree planting and left them on a table by the door.
Later, Mikel found her out in back where she was picking apples to take to Aino—Transparents, which were his favorites. “Here,” she said, tossing one to Mikel.
“I take it green, in this case, is ripe,” he said.
“My, so suspicious.”
“Why not? Since Eve persuaded Adam to eat an apple, things have never been the same.”
“But this isn’t Paradise.”
She didn’t realize how relaxing the quiet and peace of the farm were, Mikel thought. Hell, even he was surprised at how relaxed he felt. “Close enough,” he told her, “but I’ll chance the apple.” He took a bite.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Hmm, a hint of tartness within the sweet, summery flavor. A good year.”
She laughed. “Hey, it’s only an apple, not fine wine.”
“But this is a special one.” Like you, he wanted to add, but had enough sense not to. With the sunshine gleaming on her dark wavy hair as she smiled up at him, her brown eyes still crinkled with laughter, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Flaws tended to show up in sunlight, but if Rachel had any, they weren’t visible.
“Metrovich’s
