The Rebel

by Jennifer Bernard

  They pestered him about signing on as a volunteer fireman like his brother Jake.

  “Can’t. I’m not sticking around. I’ll be back in the real world soon.”

  “Ain’t nothing more real than the mountains, you know that,” the chief said.

  “Yeah, I do, but these aren’t the only mountains.”

  “Wash your mouth out.” They all laughed, since loyalty to their piece of the Cascades ran deep.

  After that, he stopped for a burger at the Black Diamond Grill. His high school crush, Betsy Polaski, ran it now. They flirted for a while, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

  Finally he stopped at the Last Chance to see Jake. He was training a new waitress, a bombshell redhead who would have rung all his bells a month ago. But her lack of clear blue eyes and soft lips was a real problem. That is, her lips might have been soft, but he didn’t even notice.

  “I heard Nicole’s giving some kind of presentation about the lodge tonight,” Jake told him. “You’re going to check it out, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. You coming?”

  “Nah, dude. I’m leaving it all in your hands. That’s why you’re the oldest. I get to kick back and sling drinks while you defend the Rockwell legacy.”

  Kai exchanged a forehand grip with his brother, then grinned at the new waitress. She wore square black-rimmed glasses and a diamond stud in her nose. “Good luck with your new boss. You’re going to need it.”

  “Don’t scare away my employees,” Jake warned. “Or I’ll tell her to charge you, for once.”

  “Is he on the freeloader list?” the new waitress asked innocently, pretending to mark him down in her notes.

  Both the brothers laughed, and Kai headed back up the twisty road to the lodge, each curve so familiar it felt like a part of him. Light spatters of rain hit his windshield. He tuned the radio to the local weather channel, where the forecasters had been warning about a front moving through. The familiar sounds of the weather report—winds out of the northeast, gusting up to thirty miles per hour, possibility of local flash flooding—made him smile.

  The truth settled into his bones. He liked being back at Rocky Peak. He liked being near his siblings. In many ways he belonged here.

  Except that he didn’t, not really. Not the way things were with Max—polite and distant. With so much still unspoken. With Max and him at odds, he’d never really belong here.

  Between caring for Max and helping Renata pack brown bag lunches for the birders, it took Nicole some time to put together her ridiculous PowerPoint. Keeping an eye out for Kai also kept her busy. Every roar of a four-wheeler had her snapping to attention. Every glimpse of a broad back, long legs and work boots had her heart skipping a beat.

  But finally she got it done, and Kai, Gracie and Max gathered in the TV room, where she hooked her laptop up to the big flat screen. Kai’s vibrant presence made her heart skip a few beats. He was the target of this presentation, but now that it was really about to happen it felt so underhanded.

  Selling is the best option for them all, she reminded herself. They can’t afford everything the lodge needs.

  She passed around a platter piled high with chocolate chip cookies Renata had made for the occasion. Kai helped himself to an entire handful, then sat back with a wink, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee.

  “If you’re trying to soften us up, it’s working.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled at him nervously. “Cookies improve every situation, if you ask me.”

  “I second that!” Gracie, already in her pajamas, sat cross-legged on the couch. “Maybe we should turn the whole lodge into a bakery.”

  Max snorted. “We ain’t turning my legacy into cookies.”

  “You could do worse.” Gracie tapped his arm with impish affection.

  Kai popped a cookie in his mouth and motioned for Nicole to get underway. Max ignored the cookies and chewed on the end of an unlit cigar instead.

  She cleared her throat and clicked play on her PowerPoint presentation. A vintage photo of a pared-down version of the lodge appeared on the screen. A group of skiers in old-fashioned gear posed in front of it. One of them was Max’s grandfather, the original founder.

  “Max asked me to put together this presentation because as soon as I arrived here, I started spouting ideas about other ways to use the lodge. Finally he asked me to put them all in one place. Think of this as a kind of vision board of what the lodge could be.”

  She glanced at her audience of Rockwells, who were all gazing at their ancestor. It was hard to tell, with his sheepskin-lined leather hat, but Nicole thought he had a strong resemblance to Kai.

  “As you all know, Rocky Peak Lodge has been in the Rockwell family for four generations. It has a wonderful and historic legacy going back seventy-five years. In the early days, only the most intrepid outdoorsmen made the trek to this lodge, drawn by the pristine wilderness and remote ski trails. Over the years, as the lodge was built up and expanded, it became more accessible to guests of all ages and skill levels. The demographic base is wider and more diverse today.”

  She switched to another slide, with a graphic breaking down the demographics of the guests.

  “Nonetheless, you can see that the guest composition skews toward the male, thanks to the preponderance of hunters and outdoorsmen who book the lodge. This is rugged territory, so that makes sense. However, in my view this creates a golden opportunity to appeal to a broader spectrum of people.”

  “What if the broader spectrum of people isn’t especially interested in a wilderness experience?” Kai asked.

  “We make them interested. And who says it has to be a wilderness experience? Do you have any idea how much women will pay to be pampered in a gorgeous setting?”

  Kai was frowning at her latest slide, which showed a breakdown of the average cost of treatments at the upper echelon of West Coast day spas. “Is that a typo? One thousand dollars for a massage?”

  “It’s more than a massage. It’s a four-handed massage with an added volcanic hot stone age-defying treatment.”

  “So you defy age by getting thrown into a volcano? I like it.” Kai smile grimly. “Who gets to do the throwing? I can volunteer.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Mock all you want, but this gives you an idea of the financial potential. We wouldn’t have to charge that much, but we could.”

  “I thought you were talking about fresh air camps for kids, that sort of thing. What happened to that part of the plan?”

  Yeah, well…that part didn’t fit in with Felicity’s scheme.

  “First things first. We need a new model in order to bring in more profit. That will open up all kinds of possibilities.” She switched to the next slide, which showed a topless woman face down on a massage table with a practitioner dripping oil on her back. “Now we get to the good part. Raindrop therapy is the hottest trend in holistic health. Imagine a place where each precious raindrop brings peace and healing.”

  Kia peered at the slide. “I’m sorry, you want to sell rain?”

  “It’s not rain. It’s essential oils applied in a certain sequence.”

  “I’ll take that kind of raindrop therapy.” Kai pointed to the window. Rain from the storm was pelting it hard.

  “You’re being obtuse. Raindrop therapy isn’t—”

  “And what building is that?” Kai interrupted, leaning even closer. “That’s the fire station.”

  Nicole tried not to flinch. Of all the crazy changes she’d thrown into this PowerPoint, that was the one most guaranteed to annoy Kai. She’d taken a photo of the fire station outpost and made a few digital cosmetic changes to it.

  Gracie’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. It looks completely different. You want to paint it gold?”

  “It’s not gold, it’s saffron. A very healing color. And it’s not technically a real fire station. It’s just a nice-size building with lots of open space. It hasn’t been staffed in years, right, Max?”

  Max grunted and chomped
on his cigar.

  “It doesn’t have to be staffed,” said Kai. “That’s where we store the rescue gear and other equipment. Not to mention the fire truck. The fire department uses it when they need it.”

  “But how often does that happen?”

  She already knew the answer to that question. Not very often.

  “Also, the equipment is outdated. For it to be really useful, it would have to be modernized. When I spoke to the fire chief, he seemed to think they could get on just fine without the station up here.”

  Kai waved at the screen. “Whatever you want to call it, that fire station is the heart and soul of this lodge. That was the original inspiration. The whole reason for building up here. Old Man Rockwell saw himself as a kind of guardian of the ridge. Back me up, Max.”

  Max scratched at his beard. “That’s what the family legend says. But that’s history. We’re talking about the future now.”

  Kai shook his head, slumping deeper into his seat. “Hey, it’s your sandbox, Max. What else, Nicole? Let me guess, you want to change the name too. Rocky Peak is just so…masculine, am I right?”

  “It is, a bit,” Nicole agreed. She hadn’t intended to bring it up so soon, but since he’d asked, she skipped ahead to a later slide. “I came up with a list of alternative names. They would all work well, staying with the mountain theme, and of course you guys would have the final say.”

  She scanned the list projected on the screen and smothered a grin. Meadow Sweet Retreat and Day Spa. Lilith of the Valley Day Spa. Rivers and Rainbows.

  “We don’t have a river here,” Kai ground out. “Or any fucking lilies of the valley.”

  “It says Lilith of the Valley,” Gracie pointed out. She was leaning forward, peering at the screen with a perplexed frown. “Who’s Lilith?”

  “Lilith is a very popular figure right now in certain circles,” Nicole said. “She represents uncontained female energy, magnificent and angry. But these are just a few suggestions for new names.”

  “Here’s another,” Kai growled. “How about ‘Overpriced and Ineffective Beauty Treatments for Spoiled Celebrities,’ is that about right?”

  “Kai, that’s mean,” said Gracie. “Personally, my favorite is Meadow Sweet, because we actually have a meadow.”

  Kai rubbed his temples, as if a bad headache was growing. “Flip ahead to the slides about the kids’ camps and good causes and so forth.”

  “I don’t have any slides, but just off the top of my head, fresh-air camps for juvenile offenders.”

  “What?” Kai’s head shot up. “You want a bunch of junior criminals up here?”

  “Don’t be so judgmental. Everyone deserves a second chance. I’ve also thought about survival skill instruction, as I mentioned before. The lawn would be a great place for a paintball tournament. Then there’s art therapy for the disabled, as long as we can add more ramps. But that can all come later. Step one is a complete transformation of the lodge from the ground up.”

  “So if we’re really going to be literal here, the name would be Afterthought Camps for Poor People as a Fig Leaf to Justify all the Spoiling of the Rich Celebrities.” Kai unfolded himself from the seat and stood up. “I think I get the gist here. How much more do you have in those slides?”

  “Kai,” Max said sharply. “She’s just trying to shake things up a little. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

  Kai’s gaze clashed with hers, as an image of his “panties”—form-fitting boxer briefs—swam into her mind. “Like I said, it’s your sandbox, Dad. If you want Real Housewives of the Cascades in here, it’s your call.” He headed for the door grabbing another handful of cookies on his way out. “I kind of like the bakery idea, myself.”

  All the energy in the room seemed to rush after him. Nicole gazed at her two remaining audience members. “Too much? Too fast?”

  “Oh yeah, you definitely lost Kai.” Gracie snagged another cookie.

  “What happened to all those other ideas you had before?” Max grumbled. “They weren’t all so fruitcake.”

  “They’re haven’t gone anywhere,” Nicole assured him. “They’re all right here in my head.”

  Gracie cocked her head thoughtfully. “But I like some of these new ideas, like art therapy for the disabled.”

  Nicole swallowed hard. Trust Gracie to home in on the one element that Nicole herself would most love to bring to Rocky Peak, if she had any say in it. Birdie would adore it. But it would never happen. The Summit Group couldn’t care less about art therapy. There was no money in it. Not like timeshare condos or high-end luxury suites.

  She shut down her laptop. “How about I tweak a few things before we go any further?”

  “Nah, don’t bother. That son of mine has his mind made up,” growled Max through his cigar.

  Aaaaand…her job was done.

  Too bad she felt like shit about it.

  15

  Later that night, Nicole woke from a restless sleep because a light was flashing outside her window. At first she thought it was lightning, because the rain was still pouring down in relentless sheets. But it came from below, not above. Someone was loading gear into a four-wheeler, running in and out of the old fire station outpost.

  She pulled on jeans, added a sweater over her pajama top and a hooded rain slicker, then ran downstairs. No one else was awake, the lounge dark except for the flicker of the last ashes of last night’s fire in the hearth. She ran outside, her face instantly feeling the sting of raindrops.

  Kai was in the midst of heaving a duffel bag onto the back of the four-wheeler. He wore a yellow firefighters’ rain jacket with white reflective stripes. For a wild moment, she wondered if she’d already managed to drive him away from Rocky Peak.

  “What’s going on?” she called to him over the drumming of the rain.

  He looked toward her, his headlamp nearly blinding her before he adjusted it upwards. “Birdwatcher got lost. Didn’t come back with the others. They’ve been searching on their own, but finally called it in. The fire department radioed me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” she said instantly.

  “No need, the fire department’s standing by. If I haven’t located him by daybreak, they’ll send a search chopper out.”

  “But what if he’s injured?”

  “I’m a paramedic.”

  Of course he was. Saving lives was second nature to him, according to his google history. But she was a certified nurse aide, damnit. And she wanted to chase the bad taste of that presentation out of her mouth.

  “It’s always good to have backup,” she pointed out. “Especially if you’re searching. You can focus on the driving and I’ll be the lookout.” Before he could argue any more, she slid onto the passenger seat. When he scowled at her, she gave his attitude right back to him. “If you want to waste time trying to evict me, good luck. Otherwise, let’s go.”

  He shrugged finally and fastened a bungee cord around the supplies he’d loaded. “Anyone ever tell you you’re stubborn as fuck?”

  “About as often as you’ve been told you’re a jerk.”

  That got a laugh out of him. “Fine, have it your way.” He swung onto the rig. “Hang tight. This is going to be a helluva ride.”

  That applied to time spent with Kai in general, in her opinion.

  She hung onto the safety bar while they zoomed onto the westernmost trail.

  “He was last seen near Skyfall Ravine,” Kai yelled over the tumult of engine noise and rain. “Spotted a Rocky Mountain bluebird, apparently. Way out of its range, according to the group.”

  He flashed a grin at her. He looked energized and fired up. She realized that he was in his element now. Riding to someone’s rescue, braving rain and cold and ravines and whatever else might come. It sent a sharp thrill through her.

  She focused on scanning the forests for signs of anything out of the ordinary, but saw nothing all the way to the ravine.

  “Where are the other birders?”

  “They’re s
earching on the near side of Skyfall, where they last saw him.” He gestured into the dark depths of the forested slopes. “I have a theory that he came this way because there’s a creek bed that runs through here. He could have easily gotten turned around and gone the wrong direction. We can only go so far on the four-wheeler, so I hope your boots are in good shape.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  He parked the vehicle as close to the top of the ravine as possible. The rain had turned it into something more like a mudslide.

  “You stay here,” Kai said as he set the emergency brake. His manner changed into something intense and focused. He handed her a handheld radio. “Keep this in your pocket. Be ready for anything. If I need your help I’ll call.”

  She nodded and cinched her rain slicker tighter.

  He slung a gear bag over his shoulders and scrambled down a narrow trail that zig-zagged down the slope. It was covered with scrubby bushes, and he lost his footing a few times, nearly sliding down the slope, which was a virtual mud bath. She held her breath until he made it to the bottom, then veered upstream. Soon she lost sight of his dark figure.

  The handheld in her pocket crackled. “You okay up there?”

  She drew it out and clicked the button. “All good. How’s that mud treating you?”

  “I’m thinking we could bring the ladies down here and charge a couple thousand for a dip in this stuff. I feel ten years younger already.”

  She laughed. “I knew you’d come onboard sooner or later.”

  “It’s because you’re so irresistible.” Holy crap, was he flirting with her over the handheld radio? In a rescue situation? “Signing off now,” he said, abruptly more serious. “Stay alert. You hear or see anything out of the ordinary, call me immediately.”

  “Stay safe,” she told him.

  “Safe is overrated.” He clicked off and suddenly she was all alone in the dark wilderness. The rain poured down, dripping through the dense forest, rattling onto the four-wheeler. And she realized—right here, right now, she felt more alive than she had during most of her life. And a lot of that had to do with the maddening man out there charging into the wilderness.