Nadia Nichols - Montana Standoff

She stood and went into the bathroom, stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked almost normal. The swelling had gone down overnight, but there was no mistaking where she’d been stung. She sighed with relief and glanced down at the vanity. Steven had left her a brand-new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. She brushed her teeth, washed the baking soda poultice off her cheek, and was drying her face on a hand towel when she heard a knock.

She padded barefoot across the room and opened the door. Nothing. The knock came again and she realized that there was someone at the front door. She waited a moment for Steven to answer it, but apparently the loud spatter of frying bacon had drowned it out. Still holding the hand towel, Molly crossed the room, slid back the dead bolt, and opened the front door. Sunlight spilled over her bare legs but the chill air negated any warmth. She blinked with surprise as a very pretty young woman with eyes and hair as black as Steven’s stared back at her.

“Yes?” Molly said. “Can I help you?”

PONY YOUNG BEAR was struck speechless by the sight of the woman who stood in her brother’s doorway, dressed in what she had to assume was one of Steven’s white shirts…and apparently little else. The young woman’s hair was a shoulder-length flaming mass of curls that took on a life all their own. Her left cheek was red and slightly swollen, and she was holding a hand towel as if she’d just come from the bathroom.

“I… I’m here to see Steven,” Pony managed to say, wondering if the poor woman was a victim of domestic violence. Steven was always rescuing people from less fortunate circumstances.

“Oh.” The woman lifted one hand in a futile attempt to corral her hair. “He’s cooking breakfast. I’ll tell him you’re here. And you are…?”

“His sister.”

“Oh! Well, please, come in….”

“Pony?” She heard Steven’s voice as he appeared in the entryway, holding a spatula. “You’re just in time for breakfast,” he said, his expression betraying nothing. “This is Molly Ferguson. Molly, my sister, Pony.” Pony shook hands with the redhead, whose grip was surprisingly firm.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Molly said. “And now if the two of you will please excuse me…”

Pony noticed how Steven watched the young woman walk across the living room. Then he turned back to her with a faint grin. “Nice legs, huh?” he said.

“Steven, why didn’t you bring her with you to Leona’s wedding?”

“Because I only just met her last night.”

“Oh.” Once again she was struck speechless.

Steven drew her inside and closed the door behind her. “So. What brings you to my humble abode?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen to turn the bacon.

She trailed after him, noticing the drink glasses on the coffee table in the living room. She looked at her brother. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked really handsome in that tuxedo.”

“You told me that yesterday.”

“I wanted to ask you if you could wear the same thing on my wedding day.”

“You already asked me, and I told you I would.”

Pony sighed. “All right. I was worried about you. You were so quiet, and you left the reception so early.”

“We’re talking about Jolly John Johnson’s wedding reception. At least I went, didn’t I? And I’m always quiet, remember?”

“Yes, but yesterday was different.” Pony sat on a stool at the counter and teased her brother with a smile. “Today, though, I can see that you’re doing okay.”

“Yeah. I went to a bar and picked up a woman. I did good, huh?” He grinned over his shoulder. Steven lifted the bacon out of the pan and laid it on a paper towel. “How many eggs do you want?”

“I can’t stay. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

Steven drained the bacon fat from the pan. “You’re not. She got stung in the face by a bee yesterday and drove her car into a ditch. I offered to give her a ride home from the public meeting in Moose Horn which, by the way, we both attended. As it turns out, she’s the New Millennium Mining Company’s legal rep and she lives in Helena. You see? No hanky-panky going on.” He gave her a long significant stare and then repeated, “How many eggs?”

“One. So, she’s the high-priced attorney representing the corporate giant, and no doubt you’re representing the penniless environmentalists.”

“Some things just never change. Over easy, or sunnyside up?”

“Over easy.” Pony rested her elbow on the counter and her chin in the palm of her hand. She gazed speculatively at her brother. “And so. She spent the night?”

“It was late by the time the meeting adjourned. We were both hungry and she needed some first aid. Today we’ll pull her car out of the ditch and she’ll be on her way. Story over.”

Pony smiled as she slid off the stool. “Chapter one is over,” she corrected. “I’ll make the toast.”

MOLLY’S CAR WAS OUT of the ditch by eleven. The day was a beautiful blue-and-gold celebration of September, and though Molly was a city girl, she found the mountainous terrain compelling. She was almost disappointed when Steven’s Jeep pulled the Mercedes onto the roadway so easily, and she almost hoped he’d find something wrong with it, some reason why she couldn’t possibly drive back to Helena.

“She’s as sound as a dollar,” he said, levering himself out from beneath the vehicle where he visually checked the oil pan and the undercarriage. “These German cars are built like tanks.” He stood, dusted off his hands, and gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “You shouldn’t have any trouble driving home.”

Molly rummaged in her purse and peeled out a hundred dollars in an assortment of crumpled bills. “For food, first aid, and lodging,” she said, extending the offering. “I can’t thank you enough for all you did.”

“I don’t want your money,” Steven said.

“Please,” she pleaded. “If you don’t take it, I’ll spend the rest of my life feeling guilty for taking advantage of your incredible kindness.”

“I helped you out because I wanted to,” Steven said. “The only thing you should feel remotely guilty about is trying to sell the citizens of Moose Horn on a project like New Millennium Mining.”

Molly felt the sting of his words and replaced the money in her purse. Her chin lifted. “You see things a little differently than I do, Steven, but there’s nothing wrong with giving fair representation.”

“How long have you been working with mining companies?”

Molly’s chin crept higher and she felt her cheeks flush. “Eleven months.”

“Ah,” he said, as if her answer had effectively ended the conversation. He turned toward his Jeep.

“Listen, I know how you feel about New Millennium,” Molly said, “but technology really has made great strides. Responsible mining companies have learned from past projects how to better protect the environment. Times have changed.”

He glanced back. “Mining companies don’t give a damn about the environment or the resident human population, and they’re powerful enough to break all the laws and get away with it. The profits far outweigh the cost of a good conscience or the fines levied against them.”

“It’s not like that,” Molly protested.

“Isn’t it? You have a lot to learn. Maybe you should take a look at one of Condor International’s mines that’s currently operational to know that some things will never change. The Soldier Mountain uranium mine would be a good example of their ethics.”

“Where’s that?” she said, embarrassed once again by her ignorance.

“Just east of the Rocky Ridge Reservation on federal lands.”

“Show me.”