by Ann Evans
Kari inhaled deeply. “It certainly smells wonderful.”
“You like to cook, Kari?” Sam asked. “I’m always telling Nick he needs to find a woman who can cook for him like my Rosa.”
Kari’s hands stilled on the parmesan cheese she’d begun to grate. It was a simple enough comment, but she wondered if it was as innocent as it sounded. Good grief, was Sam D’Angelo playing matchmaker, too?
Nick evidently suspected the same thing. He stopped fiddling with the motor and glanced down at his father, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Keep to your fairy tales, Pop.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” his father said, the picture of innocence.
In an even voice Nick replied, “I think you do. Hand me a kitchen towel.”
Sam rolled backward from the table to snag a towel from the stack that sat on the edge of the vegetable bin. He offered it up to Nick, who took it and immediately went back to work on the motor.
Kari cleared her throat. “Actually, I don’t cook that much. When I’m on an assignment, I rely on fast food a lot. And when I’m home, I’m usually on a diet.”
Sam looked aghast and thrust his hand out dismissively. “Dieting is like trying to enjoy an opera without the orchestra!”
“You will love my scarpariello,” Rose said. “I’ll save an extra portion for you.”
“That’s really very kind, but—”
Addy gave her a rueful look. “Might as well give up, Kari. We’re Italian. Eating is one of the things we do well.”
“You’re too thin,” Rose said. “We must work on fattening you up.”
“I think she looks fine just the way she is,” Addy said, throwing Kari a sympathetic smile that said she’d been through this same discussion herself.
Sam gave Kari a sideways glance, as though sizing up a calf at fair time. “Just a little more meat on such pretty bones. A man likes to have something solid to get his hands on.” He glanced up at his son. “Don’t you agree, Nick?”
Okay. It wasn’t her imagination. For some reason these people were trying to plant ideas in Nick’s head. Problem was, Kari could have told them that garden didn’t have a hope of bearing fruit. The only thing Nick D’Angelo probably wanted to get his hands on was her throat.
She stared down at the crumbling cheese, too embarrassed to look anywhere else. She heard Nick move on the ladder, but she would have burned her eyes out with hot pokers before she’d check the reaction Sam’s clumsy efforts had brought to Nick’s features.
Awkward seconds ticked by. Kari rose suddenly. Against the cool tile floor, the chair legs made a harsh, awkward sound of protest. “Where do you want this cheese, Mrs. D’Angelo?”
Everyone was silent as Rose indicated she should set the plate on a nearby counter. Kari refused to make eye contact with anyone—especially Nick.
It had been a nice morning, and Kari didn’t want to see it spoiled. She took a deep breath and turned toward Sofia. Glancing at her watch, she offered the older woman a bright smile. “Sofia, I think I’m officially farmed out to you now. Shall we go tackle those rooms?”
They went off together, leaving the kitchen to the rest of the family. As the double doors closed behind her, Kari heard Nick’s voice at last. A garbled response she couldn’t catch. If he’d bothered to answer his father’s question, she’d never know the answer now.
She followed in Sofia’s wake, wondering why on earth that should matter to her one way or the other.
SAM HAD ONCE HAD beautiful handwriting. Almost like calligraphy, Rosa had told him. Age and illness had stolen that talent, and last Christmas the family had given him a computer.
He hated it.
It was too complicated. There were too many ways it could fool you. Sam mourned the loss of his overstuffed file cabinet, but would have cut out his tongue before admitting to the family that he was hopelessly illiterate when it came to new technology.
So just before dinner, when Nick came striding into the office they shared, his dark eyes blazing under his brows, Sam wasn’t in the mood to placate. He knew what was on his son’s mind, and really, it surprised him that Nick had waited this long to finish the argument they’d started in the kitchen this morning. No doubt, only the fact that he’d had a full day of work scheduled had kept him from addressing before now what was really on his mind.
Sam pushed the computer keyboard away and smiled, though he suspected Nick wouldn’t acknowledge the friendly greeting.
Sure enough, he didn’t. He came right over to the desk, levered one hip against the edge and stared at Sam. “What were you thinking? What’s the matter with you?”
Sam didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He studied his son sadly. “I could ask you the same question. I have never in my life known you to behave in such a churlish fashion. Tessa has better manners, and she has the excuse of being a teenager.”
Nick scowled. “What is it with everyone? Addy’s given me grief all day. When I tried to sneak a tartufo from Mom, she smacked my hand and said her chocolate was reserved for people with manners. Even the Zias are glaring at me.”
“That should tell you something.”
“What it tells me is that somehow Kari Churchill has managed to turn my entire family inside out.” He ran a hand along his jaw and muttered almost to himself, “Maybe she’s a witch and she’s replaced all of you with crazy people. No, that’s giving her too much credit. She’s just a pain in the ass. Like a rash that won’t go away.”
Sam tilted his head back, letting his lips curve into a wry smile. “She’s also performed very admirably today. You saw her in the kitchen. She pulled her weight. Sofia says she wishes all the floor help was as uncomplaining as she is.” He tapped the computer keyboard. “She’s even volunteered to help me with the D’Angelo family tree. She says she knows a lot about navigating some of the research Web sites. I think all this makes her a valuable asset around here.”
“Yeah. In another twenty years she might pay back the money it’s going to cost to fix Raven One.”
Sam looked at Nick sharply, his features a challenge. “What is your real objection to her?”
Nick gave him a rueful glance, then shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing. She’s a candidate for sainthood.”
Sam chuckled. “Perhaps not that perfect. But she has a charming personality, a delightful sense of humor, and she’s very attractive. I’m surprised you don’t see that.”
“I’ll tell you what I see. I see a woman who doesn’t think about consequences. She’s irresponsible. She put Addy’s life in jeopardy yesterday because she’s the kind of woman who won’t take no for an answer.”
“Addy put her own life in jeopardy by behaving foolishly,” Sam said, his tone suddenly serious. “We’re lucky it didn’t come to real grief.”
“I realize that,” Nick said wearily. He slid off the desk and paced over to the bookcase where framed family photos lined the top shelf. After fingering them a moment, he looked back at Sam. “Forget the fact that you should have discussed it with me. Hiring Kari Churchill—even for a few days—was a mistake.”
“Why?”
He was absolutely silent for a moment: unwilling or unable to answer that question. Then he said, “She has the potential to create total chaos. I’m trying to keep things calm around here, and she’s too much of a loose cannon.”
“Nonsense!” Sam said, shoving his wheelchair away from the desk and angling it toward his son. Now he felt angry. “Businesses stagnate in calm. They need crisis in order to grow. Challenges. Injecting new ideas and different situations.” He spread his hands out. “It’s easy to hold the helm when the sea is quiet. You should welcome this challenge into your life, Nicholas.” When his son said nothing to this, he backed off a bit, sending Nick a lighter look. “And haven’t you noticed? This challenge is wrapped in a very pretty package.”
“And that’s another thing,” Nick complained. “What’s with the matchmaking? I’m not interested. I’ll never be interested.”
/> “Then you are either blind or crazy.”
Nick gave him a thunderous look, though the underlying anger seemed to have departed. “Just knock it off. And tell Mom and the Zias to, as well.”
“You’re just being stubborn.”
“And you’re just a meddlesome old man who needs to find himself a good hobby.” After a moment he sighed heavily and tossed a dismissing hand. “Do what you want with her. Just keep me out of it. The farther we stay away from each other, the better off everyone will be.”
“I think you are making a huge mistake.”
“I’m not asking what you think. I don’t need your advice.”
He stalked toward the door, the discussion clearly over.
“That’s the thing about advice,” Sam called after him. “Those who need it the most generally like it the least.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
BY THE EVENING of the third day, with a hectic weekend just around the corner, Kari felt pretty proud of herself. She could bounce quarters off the beds she made and had learned to assemble a passable antipasto plate without consulting her cheat sheet. The Pope’s Hat napkin fold? No sweat. She’d even managed to recapture Sam D’Angelo’s lost computer file of Italian-Americans who had immigrated to the United States the same year as his parents.
She had anticipated being kept busy, but it surprised her just how much time her duties absorbed. While the hired help had regularly scheduled days off, members of the D’Angelo family were expected to forego that luxury during extremely demanding times. And since Kari had taken Addy’s place…
The demands of working at the lodge were so great that they kept Kari from her original goal—learning as much as possible about her father’s ill-fated trip. Even volunteering to drive Sofia into town one afternoon for an appointment with the doctor had gained her no more than an hour of free time for a quick side trip to the local library archives. She went through a small fortune in quarters copying every newspaper article she could locate about the search-and-rescue efforts for Madison Churchill. But late that night, after soaking in a hot tub to bleed the last of the day’s soreness out of her muscles, Kari had sorted through the information and discovered nothing significant.
She knew it was a foolish dream, but in addition to learning more about his trip, Kari had also hoped to find some mention of her father’s journal. The log he traditionally began at the start of every book’s creation had not been part of the personal effects given to her mother. That journal—sure to be full of her father’s thoughts and observations—had been Kari’s last gift to him. That it could simply disappear didn’t seem possible, but it was very likely that it had been overlooked during his rescue and now lay disintegrating in some weedy crevice in Elk Creek Canyon.
Her telephone calls to the National Park office turned out to be an exercise in frustration, due to a massive roadblock named Don. The man claimed to know nothing about her father’s trip into the canyon and constantly put her on hold as he was sidetracked by tourists who came in for information. A personal visit to that office seemed like the only way to get cooperation, and Kari made a mental note to find some way to squeeze one in at the first available moment.
Of course, even if she’d been able to pinpoint the exact spot her father had camped, she wasn’t sure she could arrange transportation out there a second time. At least, not right now. Helicopter charter flights from the Lightning River area seemed to be fully booked by tourists eager to see the golden fall color of aspen-covered slopes.
She couldn’t ask Nick to take her, of course. He’d never agree.
No, that wasn’t true. He probably would fly her out there. He’d just never bring her back.
She knew he still avoided her whenever possible. He and his daughter had moved back to their own cabin, a quick stroll from the main lodge. It might as well have been on the moon. Occasionally Kari saw him from a distance, on his way to make someone else’s life miserable. Once, when she’d walked into the kitchen, he and Addy had been in deep discussion about the damaged helicopter. His sister had smiled at her. Nick had not.
It seemed that, for Nick D’Angelo, Kari simply didn’t exist. The thought was a relief, but oddly frustrating, too.
His daughter, Tessa, was another matter entirely. After coming home from school and finishing her homework, the girl often came up to the lodge to help out. She and Kari had formed a fast friendship late one afternoon while cleaning a guest room after the last maid went home.
Together they entered Number Fourteen, a bright, airy room on the third floor that overlooked Lightning Lake. Since Kari had delivered room service here just last night, she knew it had been occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Gary Whitaker, the newlyweds she’d waited on her first morning at the lodge. Evidently, the happy couple hadn’t done much sight-seeing. The room was a mess, looking like it had been lived in for forty years instead of just four days. This wasn’t going to be a quick turnaround cleaning.
Tessa obviously agreed. She made a loud moaning sound and shook her head. “Oh, great,” she said. “There goes any hope I had of going over to my friend’s house to watch a movie.”
“Our newlyweds,” Kari explained as she scooped the wadded-up bedspread off the floor. “I guess they were busy discovering each other instead of the mountains.”
“Gross,” Tessa replied as she went into the bathroom. “They used every towel. Aunt Sof hates it when people use our best for floor mats.” She came back into the bedroom. “I’ll flip you. Loser has to do the bathroom.”
Since one of the things Kari had quickly learned about cleaning hotel rooms was just how awful some bathrooms could be, she shook her head and smiled. “Why don’t we do it together?”
Tessa agreed and they got started. Once they developed a rhythm, the work went pretty quickly and the time passed around conversations about movies, school, clothes and boys.
The teenager seemed bright and easygoing, and since Kari was privy to many of the family conversations around the kitchen table now, she knew they shared an important common bond—they both had bones to pick with Nick.
Tessa appeared to be in the midst of a rebellion over her father’s heavy-handed method of handling problems. “My way or the highway” seemed to be the rule Nick lived by, and as Tessa struggled to find her own identity in a one-parent household, Kari found it easy to sympathize.
She kept most of her opinions to herself, however. The last thing she needed was to do battle with Nick over advice she gave his daughter.
They had just finished making the bed and were dusting down the furniture when Tessa pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and made a little sound of surprise.
“Orphan!” the girl called out.
Kari had learned that items inadvertently left behind by guests—clothing, eyeglasses, paperbacks, anything—were referred to as orphans and were held in a spare closet downstairs until the guest called to reclaim them. The variety of things people could forget had surprised Kari, and she turned toward Tessa, mildly curious to see what the newlyweds had left.
But in the next moment Kari had the quick, unpleasant thought that two people as besotted with one another as the Whitakers might have left behind any number of embarrassing items. Tessa was fourteen, but just how well versed was she in the kinds of things that two lovers might find necessary to bring along on their honeymoon?
She was inordinately relieved when Tessa’s hand came out of the drawer holding no more than a simple VHS tape. No sex toys, thank goodness.
Kari went back to her dusting, certain that Tessa would add the item to the housekeeping basket by the door, when she heard the sound of the tape being popped into the VHS player under the television. She turned to discover Tessa just backing off to sit on the bed, remote control in hand.
“What are you doing?” Kari asked.
The girl’s eyes gleamed. “Checking it out. It’s not marked. Maybe it’s porn. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“Tessa—” Kari began, her heart taking a le
ap. She could be right, and if so, Kari should stop her. The thought flickered through her mind that the last thing she needed was to be caught watching a sex video with Nick’s daughter. She made a move toward the machine, looking for the stop button.
But the tape was already rolling. Kari sucked in a sharp breath.
Tessa’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, wow…”
The image had come up immediately. It was bright and loud. It started right in the middle of the action. It was a movie, all right.
It was Bambi.
Stunned, Kari stopped dead in her tracks and watched as the classic cartoon deer did his best to ice skate on the frozen pond while Thumper the rabbit called encouragement.
Tessa looked momentarily disappointed, while Kari’s heart rhythm settled. “Crap,” the girl said. “I thought we might get something really wild.”
“Bambi is wild,” Kari said with a relieved laugh, and Tessa joined in.
Her frowning displeasure turned into a smile that dissolved her features into startling sweetness. “This is one of my favorite parts,” Tessa said, her gaze on the screen. She looked enchanted, suddenly younger than her fourteen years.
“Mine, too,” Kari agreed as she settled beside the teenager on the edge of the bed. Together they watched a few minutes, making comments and sympathetic noises as poor Bambi struggled and slid all over the ice.
Finally, they both agreed that they’d better finish up the room or Sofia would come looking for them. Tessa clicked off the movie. She turned to glance at Kari, a confused look on her face.
“What’s the matter?” Kari asked.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that newlyweds would bring Bambi on their honeymoon?”
“I don’t know, I think it’s sort of sweet. Maybe it’s like their special movie. The one they were watching on their first date. Or when they fell in love.”