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He gazed at her blankly. What could some stranger named Rosalind’s last wishes possibly have to do with him? “Okay.”
“She wanted to be cremated, and her ashes scattered from a place called LadyBird Rock. I’d never even heard of it, but I looked it up and it’s in our local mountains. I certainly can’t go by myself, so I’m here to hire you, if you’re willing.”
LadyBird Rock. He knew it well, since it was one of the most spectacular overlooks in all of Minnesota. A sheer granite cliff at the end of a twelve-mile hike…two thousand foot elevation…
He shook his head, causing her to take a little step back. Then he shook his head again, trying to take back the first head-shake. “I’m willing, but it’s late in the season. The LadyBird Trail can get dicey this time of year.”
“Oh.” It was if her whole body deflated. Her shoulders slumped, her head dropped.
“I suppose it can wait until spring. That’s not too disrespectful, is it?”
He’d rather cut open a vein than disappoint her that much. “We can look at the forecast,” he said dubiously.
Her face brightened. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ll let the weatherman decide.”
He hadn’t exactly said that, but he led the way up the winding trail from the beach to the office anyway.
“I have a weather app on my phone,” she said halfway up.
“That won’t tell you anything about the mountains. I have my own system. Satellite imaging and radar.”
He found the office empty, and a sign on the door that read, “Gone Twinning,” which meant that a baseball game was on and Redbull had decided things were slow enough that he wouldn’t miss much if he hopped over to Mariano’s.
“Best business partner ever,” he said sarcastically as he unlocked the door. He crossed to his weather computer and booted it up.
“He’s very sweet. He said that you were contemplating the fact that your best friend Jason just found his soulmate and that you were feeling lonely. He said I should give you a hug.”
Goddamn that gossip-goon. No wonder Redbull had skipped off early. He hadn’t wanted to face Galen’s wrath. “I’m very happy for Jason and Kendra,” he said tersely.
“So you don’t want a hug?”
He found himself without words, until he noticed the mischievous glint in her eye. She was teasing him. Wow. He didn’t know what that meant, but he liked it. “Would it be a pity hug? Or a real hug?”
“Would it matter?”
He laughed, finally relaxing into this conversation. She was being flirty, he realized. He should flirt back. He didn’t generally flirt a lot, since he liked directness. “Probably not. You can test it if you like.”
Her eyes widened just a bit. They gazes held. Time seemed to stop. Was she going to hug him?
If she actually hugged him, he had no idea what would happen. Would he have a heart attack? An instant hard-on? Would he levitate like a goddamn hot air balloon?
Just then his computer dinged, indicating that it was online. They both jumped and he hurried over to it.
Duncan’s comment flashed back to him. I think she’s asexual. I didn’t pick up any vibes.
That guy was full of shit because there was no way an asexual person could make Galen feel the way he was feeling. An asexual person wouldn’t have looked at him the way she had. No. Brenda hadn’t given Duncan any “vibes” because she didn’t like him.
Which meant that she must like Galen enough to spark some vibes.
His hands were shaking just a bit as he bent over the computer to punch in the coordinates of LadyBird Rock. His system included all the topography within a two hundred mile radius. He could home in on any part of the local terrain and see what was happening in the moment and what the forecast was for the next few days.
He consulted it before every trip, but it had its limitations, like all weather prediction systems. Even though Minnesota wasn’t an especially mountainous state, its highest peak only reaching twenty-three hundred feet, that was high enough that things could change quickly when cold air hit the jutting granite-hewn land masses. It was impossible to entirely predict all the factors at play, which was why he always insisted on rain gear no matter how sunny the forecast.
For a long moment he studied the satellite radar, toggling back and forth between the twelve-hour and the twenty-four-hour maps. He took a look at the three- and four-day forecasts as well, though he knew those would be less accurate.
“We might be okay,” he finally said. “The nighttime temperatures are holding steady at around thirty-five, and there are no big storm systems in the area. How long would you want to be up there?”
“I’ll just say a few words, then scatter her to the wind. It shouldn’t take much time. How long is the hike to get there? Can we go in the morning and come back in the afternoon?”
