“You don’t mean that literally.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The run down part.”

“Ha ha.” The heat was starting to rise in her chest. Chase Fielder was playing with her. And she didn’t appreciate it. She wasn’t afraid of snakes. Not really. She didn’t really know anything about snakes, except she didn’t really want to know anything about snakes.

“I’ll drive down.” Lily turned away. “And now, I believe they’re waiting for us in the other room.”

“I wouldn’t suggest taking that Beemer back and forth,” Chase said amiably as she fell in beside her.

“Then I’ll take the Jeep down. I saw one out there.”

“Probably shouldn’t leave Sarah without a vehicle.”

Lily blew out a breath. “Well, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“I’ll drive you into Bolton tomorrow morning.”

“You?”

“I have to take a water sample down to the regional office. Sarah will be busy all day with campers arriving and parents demanding her attention.”

“I’m sure I can—”

“Lily,” Chase said patiently, “it makes the most sense. And you strike me as…sensible.”

Lily gritted her teeth. Sensible. How nice. She could, however, be gracious. “Thank you, I would appreciate that very much. While I’m there, I can rent a vehicle. An appropriate one.”

“Good idea.” Chase frowned and pushed open the big swinging door between the kitchen and the great room. “Now let’s see what’s so important at this camp that Nat had to drag me out of the field.”

Lily couldn’t decide what bothered Chase more—that she’d been pulled out of the field, or that she’d been called to the camp. Something else she wanted to know about Chase Fielder.

* * *

“You can’t be serious.” Chase shot out of her seat and stalked to the twelve-foot-high windows. The view through the trees to Thunder Ridge and the pinnacle above it, High Cloud Peak, sparkling with late snow, was a sight she ordinarily loved, despite the memories. At the moment she had trouble focusing on anything except her new orders.

“It’s only for the summer,” Nat repeated for the third time.

Chase set her jaw, clamping her teeth tightly together to stifle the angry words clawing their way up her throat. Nat was her boss and her friend, and the small rational part of her mind still working clearly understood this wasn’t Nat’s call. She was only the messenger. But damn it, couldn’t she have done something? Protested?

Fucking politics. How far did she have to go to get away from them? She methodically relaxed the muscles in her neck and shoulders and concentrated on steadying her breathing. Somewhere in the long months of rehab, the value of meditation and biofeedback had finally gotten through to her. The negative impact of chronic anger on her body had registered also, and she’d worked hard to break the links. She’d never totally accomplished it, but she’d made progress. Slowly she turned and let out a breath. “Who’s behind this again?”

Nat looked pained for an instant. “State Senator Langford. His daughter is arriving this afternoon.”