Cold River

by Carla Neggers

  “Nope. Tomorrow.” He stopped, glancing at Sean, then back at his sister. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Dev, you can say what you have to say in front of Sean.”

  Her brother finished off the cupcake, his eyes on the old trunk now, as if he just needed to have something to focus on that wasn’t Hannah or Sean. “Even if what happened up at Four Corners wasn’t his fault, Bowie’s trouble,” Devin said. “He always has been. I remember Mom saying trouble will find him if he doesn’t find it for himself.”

  “She liked Bowie.”

  “Yeah, he’s a great guy when he’s not punching someone’s face in.”

  Hannah felt Sean’s stillness next to her. “The police didn’t find anything up at the crypt,” she said, “and Bowie was hurt worse than I was.”

  Devin balled up the cupcake wrapper in one hand. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do. You go tearing up Cameron Mountain, and then this.” He looked at her again. “You should see your face.”

  “It’ll heal in no time.” She gave him a light smile. “All’s well that ends well.”

  Sean squatted down behind the trunk and examined the leak damage in front of shelves of dusty canning jars. “I gather you haven’t told your sister what we talked about this morning,” he said.

  Devin rubbed the back of his neck as the hulking furnace came on in full force. It had been churning away against Vermont winters for at least two decades. “Think this thing’ll make it through the winter?”

  Hannah sighed, recognizing her brother’s behavior as his way of avoiding telling her something he didn’t think she wanted to hear. “Beth, Dominique and I have a pool going. I say it dies before Valentine’s Day. Dom’s giving it until the first day of spring. Beth’s the optimist—she thinks it’ll last through this winter and next.”

  Sean grunted. “That furnace will last another five years.”

  Hannah looked at him with amusement. “Well, if it dies when it’s four degrees out, I’m calling you in Beverly Hills. I don’t care if I have to get you out of bed.”

  He smiled. “You do that.”

  His voice was husky, sexy, which she told herself she only noticed because of her fatigue, pain and adrenaline.

  Devin, mercifully, was oblivious. “Wish I knew something about furnaces,” he said.

  “Ha. Don’t we all.”

  Hannah abandoned the trunk and suddenly wished she hadn’t come down here at all—hadn’t hiked up the mountain or checked on Poe and Bowie at the cemetery. If she’d just stayed at the café and baked cupcakes and studied for her bar exam, she wouldn’t have Sean Cameron on her case right now.

  She stepped back, right into cobwebs hanging from the ductwork. “What did you and Sean talk about this morning, Dev?”

  Sean rose and Devin averted his eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “It can wait. We can talk after you’re done down here.”

  “Dev,” Hannah said, “just tell me what’s on your mind. If it’s something you think I don’t want to hear, that’s my problem, not yours.”

  Sean dipped behind the trunk, examining more water spots on the cement floor and the stone foundation. Without looking at either Shay, he said, “Devin, you need to tell your sister your plans.”

  Devin swiped at the remains of her cobweb. “You ever think about leaving Vermont?”

  Hannah went still. “You mean move?”

  “Yeah. Start over somewhere else.”

  “How would I—” She stopped herself. “No, I haven’t thought about moving. Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking…” He gave her a weak smile. “Let’s at least talk up where there are no spiders.”

  Finally Sean rose again, with a sharp look at her brother. Hannah gulped in a breath. A collage of images came at her. The California desktop background on the computer she shared with her brothers. The searches she’d found for smoke jumpers and Beverly Hills. The talk about needing to figure out what came next for him now that he’d graduated high school.

  The nightmares, the pacing, the certainty that he had to do something.

  “Toby’s leaving for California with Sean the day after tomorrow.” Hannah tried to keep her emotions under control. “Is that what you’re up to? Going out there with your brother?”

  Devin grimaced and looked down at the floor. “Sean offered me a job.”

  “Sean Cameron?” She spoke as if he weren’t right there. “What kind of job?”

  “Basic step-and-fetch-it until I figure out what comes next.”

  Hannah felt as if the dust were settling on her, encasing her, as if she were another cast-off in the old, musty cellar. “How long do you plan to stay in California?”

  “I don’t know. It’s open-ended.”

  “So—what? A month to start? Five months?”

  “I’ve committed to three months to start. Same as Toby.”

  “Where will you live?”

  “I said he could stay at my place until he gets on his feet,” Sean said.

  “Not a bad deal, right, Hannah?” Devin seemed desperate for her approval. “Sean also said I could fly out with him and Toby.”

  “The day after tomorrow,” Hannah repeated dully.

  “That’s right. I’m eighteen,” he added, with a hint of defiance. “Almost nineteen.”

  “Of course. You don’t need my permission.” She raked both hands through her hair, not even sure what she felt. “You can do whatever you want now. Toby turns eighteen soon, too. Then he can do whatever he wants, too. Stay in California and mountain bike his life away.”

  Devin looked crushed. “I can stay here. I don’t have to go.”

  “No—no, Dev.” She shook her head, pulling herself together. “If this is something you want to do and you can make it happen, I’m not going to stand in your way just to keep you here.” She was aware of Sean’s presence. The coconspirator. But she wasn’t going to let Devin get sucked into whatever was going on between the two of them. “I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes. We can talk more then.”

  His face brightened with obvious relief. “Yeah. Great. I’ll go up and figure out supper.”

  Hannah waited stiffly for him to get back up the cellar stairs. Her side throbbed now in addition to her cheek and wrist. She forced back the pain and turned to Sean. “How long have you known?”

  “Two days.”

  Sean came around to her, his coat open to a dark, soft-looking sweater. He’d changed since she’d left him at Four Corners. She was still in her hiking clothes, still had rock dust and dirt on her, the cuff of her shirt wet from her ice pack.

  “Hannah—”

  “When did he start talking to you about California?”

  “During the search for the twelve-year-olds on Christmas Eve. He’d been thinking about it for some time. He convinced me he’s serious.”

  “He’s romanticizing your life, smoke jumping, California.”

  “Then he’ll find that out for himself.”

  She heard more footsteps, heavier than either Devin’s or Sean’s. It had to be Bowie. She called up to him. “Come on down, Bowie. You can handle the stairs, right? You’re not going to pass out from loss of blood, are you?”

  “Ha. Funny, Hannah.”

  He thumped down the stairs and, dodging the string hanging from the lightbulb, headed over to the back wall. His face was badly swollen and bruised. He’d changed into a heavy gray sweatshirt and put a fresh bandage on his hand, no blood yet seeping through.

  He glanced at Sean, then turned to Hannah. “I can come back.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “The leak’s right over there. Please, have a look now. Sean owns the building. It’s not a problem that he’s here.”

  Bowie’s expression was unreadable, controlled. Sean said nothing, just watched, impassive, as Bowie dipped behind the trunk and had a look at the water damage.

  Hannah leaned over the trunk. “Do you need more light?”

  “Nope.” He stood up. “I
t’s not an active leak right now because of the outside temperatures, but water’s obviously getting in. My guess, the wall here’s rotted. I’ll have to get a closer look.”

  “Can you fix it?” she asked.

  “Yes, I can. I’ll have to figure out exactly where and how the water’s getting in, but I think I can just repoint the stone, do some resealing. A little mortar and hydraulic cement should do the trick.”

  Sean was cool. “I’ll want an estimate—”

  “I estimate I can fix it.”

  Hannah checked her irritation with both of them and focused on the task at hand. “It has to be done. When do you think you could get to it?”

  “A week or two. It’ll keep until then. If it doesn’t, call me.”

  She nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “Take care of yourself,” he said, and left, the old stairs creaking and groaning as he headed up.

  Hannah didn’t move, didn’t look at Sean. She listened for the center-hall door to open and shut and then crossed her arms on her chest, careful with her injured wrist. She felt tight, emotional, on the verge of spinning out of control. “I need to check on Toby,” she said half to herself.

  “Hannah,” Sean said. “What’s going on?”

  She shot him a look. “Other than my brothers taking off for California? Other than hiking up to see where one of them was nearly murdered? Where a man we all loved…” She pushed back the rush of emotion. “I’m sorry. You have enough on your mind. You lost your father to those people. I’ll be fine.”

  He stepped closer to her. “That’s your refrain, isn’t it? You’ll always be fine.” He moved another few strands of her hair from off her face and smiled at her. “There’s something sexy about a woman with cobwebs in her hair and dust on her nose.”

  “Are you the big charmer in Beverly Hills?”

  “I’m an amateur out there.” With his fingertip, he touched her cheek, just under where the rock had struck her. “You don’t want dust getting into an open cut.”

  “It hardly counts as a cut. It’s mostly just a bruise.”

  His fingertip drifted down to her mouth, brushed her lower lip. “No one wants to see you hurt and alone.” His smile had vanished. “I don’t.”

  “My brothers shouldn’t have to worry about me. Neither should you.”

  “Is it okay for anyone to worry about you?”

  “Sean…” Hannah cleared her throat, feeling more than a little hot now. “It’s been a long day. I’m not sure I trust myself with you.”

  His eyes sparked. “Does that mean you want me to kiss you or you don’t want me to kiss you?” Before she could respond, he stood up straight and winked at her. “I won’t make you answer.”

  She pushed the trunk with one foot, feeling ragged, wishing she had gone upstairs to her apartment and not answered the door for Jo and Elijah after all, just locked herself in her bedroom and studied for her bar exam.

  She did want Sean to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him. She’d wanted it since she was fourteen years old, and it had been crazy then and was crazy now. They’d both know it come morning. This was adrenaline and circumstances at work.

  She’d been impulsive enough for one day.

  “I need to see Devin and Toby. I’m having dinner with the Robinsons tonight. I probably should cancel.” With her uninjured hand, she caught Sean’s fingers into hers and gave him a quick smile. “Long day.”

  She ran for the stairs. Sean didn’t stop her, and, despite her hike up and down Cameron Mountain and the incident at Four Corners, she didn’t break her stride on the two flights of stairs to her apartment.

  By the time she reached her apartment, all the hounds of hell might as well have been after her. Her head was pounding and she was breathing hard, her heart racing, her stomach churning.

  Having Bowie there—the competition and open animosity between him and Sean—must have prompted Sean to touch her that way. Talk to her that way. Look at her that way.

  She caught her breath and raked her uninjured hand through her hair, coming up with, indeed, cobwebs. What kind of fool was she? Of course cobwebs in the hair weren’t sexy. Sean had simply thought of something to say and said it.

  She entered the living room. It had a working fireplace and windows that looked out on the village green with its white Christmas lights shining in the black night. Ever since Devin had found Drew Cameron’s body on Cameron Mountain, and in particular since his own encounter with Kyle Rigby and Melanie Kendall, Devin had seemed unfocused and rootless, as if he were caught between his past and his future.

  No wonder he’d jumped at the chance to move to Southern California.

  Hannah found Toby hunched over a mountain-biking magazine at the kitchen table. “I thought you were working on your take-home test,” she said.

  “It’s all done.” He looked up at her. “Dev told you?”

  “Yes,” she said, more sharply than she meant to. “He told me he’s heading to California, too.”

  Toby leaned back in his chair. “I only sort of knew. I kept it to myself in case it didn’t work out.”

  “That I understand.” She hesitated. “Are you sure about going to California yourself? You have so much to do before you graduate.”

  “I’m finishing my last college application tonight. If I don’t do this now, when?”

  Her throat felt constricted. For the past seven years, she’d been responsible for her two brothers. She’d been their sole legal guardian. She’d worked and sacrificed for them and laughed with them and cried with them. They were a family.

  She’d bought Toby his first mountain bike.

  “I don’t have to go,” he said in a small voice.

  “No—no, Toby. It’s okay. You’re right. If not now, when? It’s a great opportunity.” She found herself blinking back tears. “You and Dev need to get on with your own lives.”

  “Hannah, we don’t want to you to feel bad—”

  “I’m studying for the bar. I’ve got the café. Friends.” She smiled through her sudden anxiety. She’d never been apart from one or both of her brothers for more than a few nights. “I’ll be fine.”

  “What about Bowie?”

  “Bowie? He’s a stonemason I grew up with. That’s all, Toby.”

  Toby got up from the table. “You could come out to California. I have that big race at the end of January.”

  “I’d love to see you race. If I can make it happen—I will, okay?”

  “You’ve put your own life on hold long enough for us,” Toby said.

  “That’s not how I’ve looked at things.”

  “I know, but maybe it’s time you did.” He gave her a crooked grin. “You’ll be turning gray before you know it.”

  Hannah looked down at the books and papers on the table. Hers, Toby’s. Devin had gotten halfway through one college application before he quit, saying he’d decided to postpone college for at least a year. Was he going to California because Toby was? Or because it was what he himself wanted to do?

  Or because handsome, rich, rugged Sean Cameron had offered him a job?

  Devin came into the dining room, looking sheepish. Hannah felt a stab of guilt. He should be excited about his trip. She didn’t want to be a wet blanket and have either of her brothers put their dreams on hold because of her.

  Wind rattled the old window by the table. She could feel a cold draft and forced a smile. “I don’t blame you for wanting to check out sunny California.”

  She headed for her bedroom. In warm weather, with the windows open, she could hear the river. Now she could only hear the clanking of the ancient heating system. She had no desire to go out into the cold night and be sociable, but Devin’s news helped motivate her not to back out of dinner with the Robinsons. She needed to prove to her brothers—and to herself—that she had a life.

  And that she was still safe in Black Falls.

  Thirteen

  “Bowie hasn’t been in since the fight,” Liam O’Rourke said from behi
nd his rough-wood bar. “I expect his probation officer wouldn’t want him here.”

  “Do you?” Sean asked. He hadn’t gone to the lodge after Hannah had run upstairs. Instead he’d walked down to O’Rourke’s.

  Liam shrugged, his shoulders as powerful as his cousin’s. “I stopped wanting or not wanting anything concerning Bowie a long time ago. I stay neutral. He does what he does. Always has.”

  “Do you like having him back in town?”

  “Neutral. No opinion.”

  Sean stood up from the stool. He’d had only two sips of his beer. His head was already screwed up enough with his reaction to Hannah in her cellar. It wasn’t thinking about kissing her that he regretted. It was not kissing her—a line of thinking, he knew, that was the path to frustration.

  “What about Bowie and Hannah?”

  “I’ve never understood their relationship.” Liam reached for Sean’s glass. “She saw my uncle in action. Bowie’s father. He’s a great guy to the rest of the world, but he was rough on Bowie. A bad drunk. When your father’s against you, maybe you feel like the whole world’s against you.”

  “Does Bowie blame Hannah for his arrest—for being here that night, then for showing my father where to find him?”

  “Anything’s possible. I don’t claim to know how Bowie thinks. All I know is it’s a good thing you grabbed her that night. Those guys weren’t going to stop. Who knows how far they’d have gone with it. With her.”

  “Bowie should just have walked out of here.”

  “The insults were tough to listen to.”

  Sean noticed his friend hesitate. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know.” Liam scratched the side of his mouth, awkward now. “I haven’t seen those stupid bastards in here since March. Derek Cutshaw. That guy’s a prick. I don’t know if he was just talking about Hannah.”

  “Who else?”

  Liam dumped Sean’s beer into the small sink in front of him, below the bar. “Doesn’t matter.” He looked up. “Was that trip out here in March the last time you saw your father?”

  Sean nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Sean. I’m really sorry.”