to extend the time she had with him, they chatted about physical fitness
and fat-free foods. Eventually he said something that allowed her to
ask, with ,complete naturalness, the names of his friends there in
Portland.
“No,” he said.
“No what?”
“No, I’m not giving you their names. They’re private people, nice
people, I don’t want them being pestered.”
“I’ve never been called a pest before,” she said.
“No offense, Miss Thorne, but I just wouldn’t want them to have to be in
the paper and everything, have their lives disrupted.”
“Lots of people like seeing their names in the newspaper.”
“Lots don’t.”
“They might enjoy talking about their friend, the big hero.”
“Sorry,” he said affably, and smiled.
She was beginning to understand why she found him so appealing: his
unshakable poise was irresistible. Having worked for two years in Los
Angeles, Holly had known a lot of men who styled themselves as laid-back
Californians; each portrayed himself as the epitome of self possession,
Mr.
Mellow-rely on me baby, and the world can never touch either of us; we
are beyond the reach of fate but none actually possessed the cool nerves
and unflappable temperament to which he pretended. A Bruce Willis
wardrobe, perfect tan, and studied insouciance did not a Bruce Willis
make. Self confidence could be gained through experience, but real
aplomb was something you were either born with or learned to imitate-and
the imitation was never convincing to the observant eye.
However, Jim Ironheart had been born with enough aplomb, if rationed
equally to all the men in Rhode Island, to produce an entire state of
cool, unflappable types.
He faced hurtling trucks and a reporter’s questions with the same degree
of equanimity. Just being in his company was oddly relaxing and
reassuring.
She said, “That’s an interesting name you have.”
“Jim?”
He was having fun with her.
“Ironheart,” she said. “Sounds like an American Indian name.”
“Wouldn’t mind having a little Chippewa or Apache blood, make me lists
dull, a little bit exotic, mysterious. But it’s just the Anglicized
version of the family’s original German name-Eisenherz.”
By the time they were on the East Portland Freeway, rapidly approaching
the Killingsworth Street exit, Holly was dismayed at the prospect of
dropping him at the airline terminal. As a reporter, she still had a
lot of unanswered questions. More important, as a woman, she was more
intrigued by him than she had been by any man in ages. She briefly
considered taking a far more circuitous route to the airport; his lack
of familiarity with the city might disguise her deception. Then she
realized that the freeway signs were already announcing the upcoming
exit to Portland International; even if he had not been reading them, he
could not have failed to notice the steady air traffic in the deep-blue
eastern sky ahead them.
She said, “What do you do down there in California?”
“Enjoy life.”
“I meant-what do you do for a living?”
“What’s your guess?” he asked.
“Well. . . one thing for sure: you’re not a librarian.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You have a sense of mystery about you.”
“Can’t a librarian be mysterious?”
“I’ve never known one who was.” Reluctantly she turned onto the airport
exit ramp. “Maybe you’re a cop of some kind.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Really good cops are unflappable, cool.”
“Gee, I think of myself as a warm sort of guy, open and easy. You think
I’m cool?”
traffic was moderately heavy on the airport approach road. She let it
slow her even further.
“I mean,” she said, “that you’re very self possessed.”
“How long have you been a reporter?”
“Twelve years.”
“All of it in Portland?”
“No. I’ve been here a year.”
“Where’d you work before?”
“Chicago. . . Los Angeles. . . Seattle.”
“You like journalism?”
Realizing that she had lost control of the conversation, Holly said,
“This isn’t a game of twenty questions, you know.”
“Oh,” he said, clearly amused, “that’s exactly what I thought it was She
was frustrated by the impenetrable wall he had erected about himself,
irritated by his stubbornness. She was not used to having her will
thwarted. But he had no meanness in him, as far as she could see, and