“You be damned careful,” Brent said, looking hard at Quinn, who squatted beside Brent’s car.
They had come to Idaho Springs separately—Brent in the car, Quinn in the Jeep—on Saturday morning. Now they were parked in the lot of a small motel, large trees between them and the road. Above them, the sky was cloudy, portending the expected rain. Since, as he told Quinn, there was no way Brent was willing to sit at home worrying, he had called ahead to rent a room at the motel. He would wait there for Quinn to return from his drive to the cabin where, hopefully, he’d meet River.
“I plan on it. I have a good reason to be extra careful.” He rose up enough to kiss Brent.
“I wish…” Brent sighed.
“We discussed this last night. There’s no way we could realistically pull this off together. I’ll be
