Read Solomon's Decision for Free Online Page B

The only good thing about the delay was finding this
apartment. He'd spent Saturday exploring as much of Hells Canyon as he could reach by
road, Sunday moving in and getting settled. And now, finally, he was going to see the
supposedly incomparable wetland that had brought him almost three thousand miles.
    He was willing to bet it was a mess. A century of cattle and sheep grazing had left
little of the West in its pre-settlement condition.
    He rinsed the cup under the tap and set it to drain. It was a good thing he was
compulsively neat, for a single thing out of place in this tiny apartment would make it look
unkempt. Time to go.
    Harry Lindholm wasn't at the airport--a grassy landing strip with a single
unattended hanger. Neither was the helicopter, which was flying down from New
Meadows. Perhaps he should have insisted on chartering the helicopter himself, since
NWT funds were paying for it. But Harry had said using the flying service in New
Meadows would be much cheaper than chartering out of Boise, so Erik had let him go
ahead and make the arrangements.
    Erik leaned against the fender of his rental car, enjoying the quiet, the solitude.
Except for a distant mechanical murmur from the sawmill on the other side of town, he
could hear nothing but birdcalls, the whisper of wind in the cottonwoods along Garnet
Creek, and his own thoughts.
    Moments like this were becoming more and more precious to him, the longer he
stayed in D.C., and more and more necessary. Perhaps it was time he did what he always
said he'd do when he got tired of life in the fast lane--settle down.
    There were worse places to settle down than Sunset County, Idaho.
    The distant thwump-thwump of a helicopter reminded him that he was only here
to do a job. When he settled down, it would be someplace where the hand of man had
touched the land but lightly. He wanted no reminders of civilization in the view from his
front porch--if he ever had one.
    Tires on gravel signaled the arrival of Harry Lindholm, Chairman of the County
Commissioners, John Deere and Ford dealer, and his guide for today. He heard a door slam
and, without turning, he said, "We couldn't ask for a nicer day, Harry."
    "Harry could." There was laughter in the husky, feminine voice.
    He spun around. Madeline was pulling a daypack out of the back of a dark blue
minivan. Her black curls held glints of red in the morning sun and her pert little bottom
filled a pair of jeans quite nicely.
    "What are you doing here? Where's Harry?"
    "Harry and his hunting dog had a disagreement over which way they'd walk this
morning," Madeline said, walking toward him. "Ace won, but in the process he pulled
Harry off the porch and broke his leg." She smiled. "So I'm your guide."
    Excitement flared in him. All weekend he'd done everything he could to avoid
thinking of her, for his thoughts always ended in the same place.
    He wanted her, with an ache that was enormous, overwhelming, all-consuming.
Erik swallowed. "That's great," he said, wondering if she heard the quaver in his voice.
How the hell was he going to spend a day in her company and keep his hands off her?
    The helicopter landed, preventing any further conversation. While he loaded the
duffel containing his field gear, Madeline returned to the minivan for a roll of maps and a
pair of rubber boots.
    Soon they were airborne. Erik sat alone in the rear seat, not touching Madeline. It
was difficult enough to ignore the vulnerable line of her neck when he shifted his gaze past
her from one window to the other. He watched the world revolve under them as the pilot
turned the aircraft and soared over the high ridge that rose just west of Garnet Falls. This
wasn't the green and lush land he was used to, but it had a bleak beauty of its own.
    Sagebrush gave way to scattered timber as they climbed higher. Soon ponderosa
pine and Douglas-fir grew tall and straight on steep mountainsides, forming an open forest
where deer and elk abounded, where grouse and squirrel,