David Dun Official Website - Chapter 1 - At The Edge Second Thriller

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CHAPTER 1, Part 3
Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 Part 3 | Part 4 | Chapter 2

Of course before she knew the courier was Dan Young she had had many reasons to impress the man; she was talking to a big donor, after all, or at least the donor's representative, and the coalition desperately needed the money. But when she first saw him there was more. She had felt him looking at her, almost as if he were the benefactor and she the donor. He had seemed attuned to every detail of what she was saying. Then again maybe it wasn't what she was saying.

Aside from the fact that she hated his politics, Dan Young had always seemed to possess some quality that quite disgustingly she found attractive. He was wide-shouldered and had the quiet confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was about. But he didn't quite swagger, although like all cowboy types he tortured animals, ate meat, did what his kind usually did. She wasn't quite sure what made him interesting.

Once at a county fair, before Dan's wife had died, Maria had been working a booth devoted to registering democratic voters. She'd taken a break, gotten some hot tea and moved to the back of the booth where she watched the people passing by. Not 30 feet away, Dan Young had been standing around with an odd mix of professionals and a few cowboys, but he looked more like the cowboys even if his jeans were a little new, his heavy blue work shirt laundered and starched.

Because he was Otran's lawyer and represented industry she had been curious about him. But it struck her that unlike the other men in the group he had no roll of flab above the oversized belt buckle. Remarkable for a guy who had to sit in a chair hours on end. He was tall, she guessed 6'5" in boots maybe 6'4" in his bare feet, and blonde, obviously blue-eyed. He tended to half-smile under his bushy mustache and concentrate on whomever was talking, periodically shifting his weight from one foot to the other while he listened.

He had big hands and used them when he spoke. There was an earnestness about him that made people listen although he seemed to stay silent more than speak.

There was a dimple in his chin, and he had eyebrows that looked like they got regularly trimmed, and over the right brow was a faded scar. As she watched, the group of men became more animated, one of them obviously trying to tease Dan.

Dan smiled at the fellow poking him in the shoulder, adjusted his hat and walked away over to the far side of the arena where the bull riders were coming out of the chute.

"Hey, man, we were only kidding. Those big fuckers'll kill you. Come on back here," one of the men called out.

In a few minutes Dan Young was riding a bull. Everybody had heard about Dan—he had grown up riding everything on four legs—but when he jumped off the bull, a woman and a boy came running toward the arena. He seemed intent on them. By the way the woman approached Dan, Maria could tell it was family. He tried to put his arm around her but she shrugged it off and squared off to him holding the boy on her hip. It was obviously his wife, and Maria was guessing that she hadn't been consulted about the day's adventure.

Maria had watched as the woman cut loose a verbal barrage. But when she was in his face, he sobered. Without hearing a word she suspected that the woman was reminding him that he had a son, a family, and responsibilities. A trip to the hospital was not what their little family needed. The look in his face, the honest appraisal of what he was being told gave Maria some information.

Reluctantly she had admitted there was some good in this timber-industry mouthpiece. Maybe it wasn't much, but something. Then she had seen him at the demonstration, where they had argued up close and personal. But as ugly as their verbal sparring became, spurred on by her blood-red anger and his I-fear-nothing determination, she still secretly liked him at the end. It was something she didn't understand about herself and didn't want to understand.

Getting involved further with him, even casual conversation, would not be practical, she knew. Practical. According to her father, she wasn't at all practical, and she was still trying to figure out exactly what that meant.

Living in an Alaskan cabin wasn't practical, but it was good, it was uncluttered, it was simple and it enabled her to form visions of herself and her life. She lived free of the noise of civilization. The hardness of the place, the relentless cold, the back-breaking work, the isolation, the energy that she had to expend on preparing a simple meal, all had enabled her to see things that couldn't be seen on a hillside mansion in southern California. The impractical sometimes bore fruit. She wasn't sure that she ever wanted to be practical.

For a good part of her life she had been considered attractive. Perhaps before her teens people thought of her as an ungainly and skinny tomboy with braces unless their eye had some discernment. With her breasts and the elongation of her torso and legs she became beautiful. But still it was a beauty that was off the beaten path and depended to some extent on her smile and an inner something that beamed out of her countenance. Some said she was vivacious, others that she was a natural inspiration.

Maria's mouth was a little large, her lips full, and after the braces her teeth were sensational. If anything was ordinary about her it was her brunette hair and a hairline that was not perfectly clean when she pulled it up atop her head. But she never did that, except on Saturday when she made an unbraided ponytail while she read.

There was her scar. She called it Amy's scar. A full six inches long, it was an inch wide right across an otherwise perfect belly. Everybody had something, well almost everybody. If you were lucky it was only flat feet. But Maria wore her scar with gratitude. She was thankful that she had been there to collect it. One-piece bathing suits were out and she was a tad shy about the scar when it came to men.

Maria's mind craved new ideas and new ways of thinking. She was like a walking investment bank for creative thought. Stubbornness was the other side of that equation, and she had not yet learned to tolerate ideas that challenged her fundamental beliefs. In truth she had only a handful of fundamental beliefs: that she should practice yoga; that she should save old-growth forests; that her mother was inherently wise and good and to whatever extent she might fail in that regard it was probably due to her father; that she should be doing unto others what she would have them do unto her except when she lost her temper; that anything worth doing was worth doing passionately; that children were sacred trusts. And she believed fervently in love but wasn't sure she'd ever find it.

Certainly the man before her was puzzling and had aroused a heated curiosity about two basic issues: Did he want to save the planet—more specifically the trees? And did he look as good naked as he did clothed?

As he watched the waitress leave, there seemed a sadness about him. It was a peculiar contrast to the square-jawed maleness that he exuded.

He caught her noticing him. "You wanna have coffee sometime?"

"No," she said. "Not exactly. I mean maybe if we weren't so, well opposite. We're just about as opposite as two people can be."

He nodded and she could see the sincerity in his eyes. She pondered that one. Something about this man really did remind her of someone—her father—the way he used to lavish attention upon her before their great falling out and her migration, as she called it, to Alaska. Old feelings stirred inside as she reminded herself: This isn't my father. And it isn't my boyfriend.

As the crowning complication to her life, Maria was still her father's daughter and hadn't yet decided how she would finally deal with business and materialism. Nor had she decided how to deal with her predictable, maybe even boring boyfriend.

"Hey," Dan said. "I gotta go. But I did enjoy your company." He nodded at the door as she reached for the briefcase. "Maybe you should go first."

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Prologue | Ch. 1, Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Part 4 | Chapter 2