sat at the tables and a couple of men had their legs wrapped around stools at the bar. One of them turned around as Steve followed Deanna to a corner table. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw him slide off the bar stool and stride purposefully across the room.
When he reached their table, he said, “I see the good doctor has arrived.” His bold eyes evaluated Steve as if he was ready to take issue with anything that was said.
“This is Bob Henderson, my hotel manager,” Deanna quickly made the introduction. “Dr. Steve Sherman. His son, Travis, is upstairs with Susan and Penny.”
Steve stuck out his hand to force a handshake. The snide way the man had landed on the word good had alerted Steve. Hostility radiated off the hotel manager like bad fumes, and his handshake was perfunctory.
“I hope you’ll find everything to your satisfaction, Doctor. We’re not used to having guests who set up practices in our hotel.”
Ouch! Steve mentally flinched. This guy wasn’t holding back any punches. What gave? Why the icy treatment?
“Bob!” Deanna glared at him. “Dr. Sherman—Steve—is here at my request. He’s generous enough to give up some of his vacation time to treat Penny. We want him to enjoy our hospitality—fully.”
“Of course, of course,” Bob answered mechanically. “I understand you’re planning on being with us a month?” His tone made it clear he considered the visit much too long.
“That’s the plan,” Steve answered smoothly.
“Deanna’s been beside herself trying to get everything ready to your satisfaction.” He put a possessive hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her. “Haven’t you, honey?”
So that’s the way it is. Now Steve understood the hotel manager’s hostility. Obviously, he thought Steve’s presence might be some kind of personal threat as far as Deanna was concerned. He was ready to declare battle on the big-city doctor who was going to freeload at the hotel for a month.
“Well, I guess I’d better get back to the office. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes, Bob, we have some scheduling to do and some other details to work out. See you in the morning.” Deanna gave him a dismissing smile, while she silently steamed. How dare he call me honey? And parade his jealousy like some schoolboy? She struggled to control her anger as he walked away. She wasn’t about to create a scene in front of Penny’s therapist.
“I don’t think Mr. Henderson likes doctors,” Steve said after they had ordered their drinks.
“Bob takes a little too much on himself at times,” Deanna said in the way of an apology. “But he was a great support when I had all the responsibility of the hotel dumped on me so abruptly.”
“I would say that you’ve done very well. You’re to be complimented. It can’t be easy running a hotel like this.”
“It has its challenges,” she said lightly. Keeping her own counsel was one of her strong traits, and she wasn’t about to dump a load of frustrations on this willing listener, but suddenly the lounge seemed stifling and confining. “Let’s take our drinks out on the terrace. I need a breath of fresh air.”
Steve rose and picked up both drinks. As they passed the bar, a craggy-faced man with a black beard wiped his hands on his bartender apron and held out his hand, forcing Steve and Deanna to stop. “You must be the shrink Deanna’s been expecting.”
“That’s me.” Steve nodded. “And you must be Dillon, the most famous storyteller in the Rockies.” The bartender looked to be about fifty years old, with raw-boned features that included a crooked nose and bushy black eyebrows.
“I don’t know about the famous part, but I do like to spin a yarn or two,” he admitted, stroking his shaggy beard. “Been around Eagle Ridge mostly all my life.”
“I’d like to hear some of your stories. I bet there’s a lot of interesting history in this area.”
“Yep, and plenty of goings-on right today. Nothing much goes on around here that escapes these two eyes of mine. Right, Deanna?”
Her smile was thin. “Everyone loves to come to the Rattlesnake and gossip with Dillon.”
“Hey, I’m no gossip. I always check my facts. You better be careful, gal.” He shook a stubby finger at her. “Telling tales out of school will only get ya in a peck of trouble.”
“And what kind of tales could I tell about you that weren’t true?” Deanna countered with quick sharpness.
Dillon gave a grunt that might have passed for a laugh, but then he warned Steve, “Watch out for this gal, Doctor. She’s as pretty as a diamondback rattler, and just as dangerous.”
Deanna ignored the remark, and Steve saw her face was flushed with anger as they walked away from the bar. A set of double French doors at the back of the lounge led outside to a large terrace bordered by a waist-high rock wall.
Now Steve knew why the tavern was nearly empty. The terrace was filled with hotel guests enjoying their drinks under the stars as they sat at small tables, laughing and chatting. He saw that a four-piece band was setting up at one end of the patio near a small hardwood dance floor.
Deanna eased onto a chair at one of the tables near the low rock wall, and Steve was aware of the deep breath she took as if to settle some disquieting emotion. Obviously the little encounter with the bartender had set her on edge. Even if he hadn’t been a professional delving into people’s minds and emotions, he would have been intrigued by the double-edged banter that had taken place between them.
“That’s Shadow Lake,” she said, resuming her conversational tone as she pointed to a wide expanse of water at the base of the hill. “In daytime, the lake is a bright blue, but once the sun goes behind those peaks, the water turns so dark that the shadows of the trees around it are reflected on the surface like black webs.”
“Then I’d say its name is appropriate.”
“Yes, in more ways than one,” she murmured, and then quickly took a sip of her drink.
As Steve looked across the table at her, he was conscious of the way the moonlight played upon her golden hair and traced the lovely lines and planes of her face. If the situation had been different, he could have easily allowed himself to become romantically interested in her, but he was an expert at keeping his love life separate from his profession. He knew how to stay within the bounds of friendship, and even though Deanna Drake intrigued him on more levels than he was willing to admit, he knew how to handle himself. Penny Drake was his patient, and anything that affected her was of vital interest to the success of her treatment.
There was a great deal he needed to learn about Deanna Drake, and the incident that had traumatized her child. He had studied reports sent to him with Penny’s referral, and even gone to the library to read news accounts of her husband’s murder, but the facts were vague. There had been no clues as to who had shot Benjamin Drake in a small clearing behind the hotel, or why. If Penny knew the answers, they were trapped in her mind, while fear kept close guard, preventing her from speaking them. And if he was successful in releasing the truth? Would the revelations be damaging to Deanna Drake? He was well aware that his first obligation was to his patient, even if the fallout of what he learned from Penny might be critical of her mother.
“Have you always lived in Eagle Ridge?” he asked as they sipped their drinks and drew in the fresh night air.
“No, my parents moved to Colorado when I was twelve. They bought a small ranch in this valley, and I attended a consolidated school about thirty miles from here. After I graduated from high school, I enrolled in a Denver college and took a degree in hotel management. My parents had sold out and moved back East by then, but I decided to stay. Both of them have since passed away. As fate would have it, Ben had posted an assistant manager’s job on the college bulletin board. I answered the ad and got the job.” Then she added, “And a husband as a fringe benefit.”