A Family Like Hannah's

by Carol Ross

  Lucas gaped in happy wonder at Viktor as though he’d just had the best idea in the entire world. Then he looked eagerly toward Hannah, awaiting her answer.

  She shot Tate her best wide-eyed, “how can we get out this?” expression but he answered with a shrug and a decidedly unhelpful, “Sounds fun. Make sure you show up hungry because I would pull my own tooth for one of Viktor’s pierogis.”

  “Sure,” she said cheerfully, feeling honored and itchy and trapped all at the same time. “Dinner would be lovely.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE COZY CARIBOU made the best waffles in the world. Especially when smothered in peanut butter, sliced bananas and chopped pecans. Hannah crumbled two strips of bacon on top and added a drizzle of birch breakfast syrup to the pile as she thought about canceling dinner. She picked up her phone and stared at the screen, trying to compose a suitable text excuse when Park Lowell slunk onto the seat beside her.

  “That’s an awful lot of carbs for a fitness freak like you. Comfort carbs? That board meeting upset you, huh? Need a tissue?”

  She slowly lowered her phone to give Park a glare. She’d heard him called “cute” by some of the women in town, but she absolutely could not see it. With those close-set piercing eyes, small sharp nose and thin lips, he reminded her of a rodent.

  She refused to let him get to her now when he clearly had the means to. “Park, you do realize the fastest route to getting your butt kicked by a woman is to make assumptions about how she’ll react in a given situation, right?”

  “She is right about that, Park,” Adele said, sliding onto the stool on the other side of Hannah. Adele had ordered the fisherman’s special—two eggs, bacon and a giant flaky buttermilk biscuit smothered in country gravy. The waitress set the plate in front of her along with a large orange juice. She and Adele were going snowshoeing after breakfast. They needed the calories.

  She glanced at Park and stabbed a huge piece of waffle. “Did you need something? Or did you just stop by to try to ruin my morning? Because it won’t work. You are nothing more than an annoying little gnat in the vast and beautiful wilderness that is my life.” She shoved the entire bite into her mouth and chewed ungracefully.

  He looked momentarily disgusted before placing a hand on his chest and saying with mock sincerity, “That is the most poetic insult anyone has ever paid me, Hannah.” His tone shifted into smug seriousness, “I’m meeting Tate Addison for breakfast. We’re going to work on our proposal.”

  He puffed out his chest like a cartoon pigeon, which had her desperately wanting to be the woman to implement that much-needed butt kicking.

  Instead she scoffed and added, “That’s great. I’m so glad you found yourself a tutor. Don’t stay out past curfew, though, or your mommy might get upset.”

  Laughter erupted around them and the postman, Ralph Simpke, who was enjoying a pile of scrambled eggs and ham at the counter said, “She’s got you there, Park.”

  Rumor had it that Park had come to Alaska to stay with his mom because he’d gotten himself into some financial trouble down in the lower forty-eight. The buzz from Hannah’s gossip-loving friend Piper Davidson who worked at the town’s newspaper was that Park’s investment in Snowy Sky had been bankrolled by Mama Lowell. To whom Park now owed his soul. A fact she purportedly did not let him forget.

  Hannah felt a tiny bit sorry for Park in this regard because Dixie Lowell was an overbearing, controlling woman who was difficult for most anyone to get along with on the best of days.

  “Okay, that’s funny. I’ll give you that one.” Park tried to sound easygoing about the comment, but his body language assured her that he thought it anything but.

  She mimicked his earlier gesture and placed a hand over her heart. “Thank you, Park, it means the world to me that you get me.”

  He stood and tugged on the waistband of his already unflatteringly high-waisted khakis. “Enjoy your breakfast, ladies. And, Hannah, you might want to prepare yourself for total humiliation in front of the board.” He added a pompous cackle.

  “Thanks for the warning. Hey, Park, maybe you could give me some tips on how to do that? Because you know what that’s like, don’t you? Total humiliation?”

  He stalked off, muttering what she assumed was an insult of some kind, but which she hadn’t quite heard due to the volume of laughter that had arisen around them.

  “Wow, he is such a...” Adele fought for a word as Park disappeared into the dining area.

  “Weasel?” Hannah happily supplied.

  Adele laughed. “That’s perfect. What is his problem with you anyway? It seems over the top. Like an elementary school kid with a crush.”

  “That’s definitely not it.”

  She sipped her hot chocolate. “Aside from the fact that he’s threatened by me because I’m frankly smarter and more athletic than he is?” she paused for dramatic effect.

  “That might be enough,” Adele answered flatly, before filling her own mouth with biscuit and gravy.

  Hannah poured another dollop of syrup over her plate. “It could be, but it gets worse. To answer your question—he once made a bet with me—right here in the Cozy Caribou. He lost his pride and five hundred dollars in front of all his friends. He’s never gotten over it.”

  “Five hundred dollars? Hannah...” Adele stopped talking and quirked a brow in her direction.

  “What?”

  “You better be careful.”

  She chuckled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, my dear cousin—hell hath no fury like a man such as that being made a fool of in front of his friends.” She waited a beat, then added, “And especially when the man is clearly threatened by you, woman.”

  They both looked up as Tate came through the doorway on the opposite side of the restaurant. He waved. Adele waved back.

  Hannah lifted a hand, too. “Now, he’s the one who should feel threatened right now, Adele—by me.”

  * * *

  TATE SWUNG BY the hardware–sporting goods–computer repair shop, which also contained a nice selection of home goods for such a small town.

  “Hey, Tate! How’s it going, man?”

  He extended a hand to the teenage clerk he’d befriended on previous visits. “Pretty good, Ian. How are you?”

  Tate enjoyed how he was already getting acquainted with the people in Rankins. He was beginning to feel like a real member of the community.

  Gloves were on sale, so he picked out another pair for Lucas, knowing from his own experience that boys could never have too many gloves.

  “Getting some gear there, I see.”

  “Yep, gonna get Lucas up on a board pretty soon.”

  “Cool. Little dude will most assuredly have your skills. He looks just like you.”

  Tate appreciated how no one in Rankins seemed to care about his past beyond chatting like Ian did. No one treated him any differently, and that was what he’d been hoping for.

  Not that he was all that famous outside the world of snow sports, but he had done some endorsements. It wasn’t unusual for people to recognize him or ask for an occasional autograph.

  “Let’s hope so. I’d also like to take home a few more Christmas decorations if you’ve got any left. The Milner house is a lot bigger than it seems.”

  “We’ve got ’em. I just moved them over to this side of the store to make room for the New Year’s stuff. Are you going to the Cozy Caribou on New Year’s? Awesome band playing. Rushing Tide, have you heard of them? They’re from here.”

  “I have,” he answered. Tate loved music and they discussed the party-concert the restaurant would be hosting that night. Ian helped him choose a stuffed snowman and a plush reindeer to add to Lucas’s Christmas collection, as well as three more strings of lights and some sparkly snowflakes that Viktor had requested. />
  They chatted about fishing while Ian rang him up.

  “I almost forgot I need fishing line. Viktor said he’d use it to hang the plastic snowflakes from the ceiling. Where do you keep that?”

  Ian directed him to the back of the store, where he quickly retrieved a spool of line. He’d never ventured this deeply into the store before and on the back wall he noticed a sign that read Rankins Wall of Greats. Floor to ceiling, the entire space was devoted to the successes of local athletes—photos, articles, awards. A trophy-covered shelf ran the entire length of the wall.

  His eye was soon drawn to the largest framed photograph; Hannah standing on the top spot of a podium, gold medal hanging around her neck. He couldn’t help noticing that her smile was dazzling even in photos.

  Thinking he recognized the resort in the background, he stepped closer and read the year and the event. Only three years ago? Hmm.

  He had assumed she’d quit skiing because she’d burned out or had realized that she wasn’t quite good enough to compete at the elite level. Obviously that wasn’t the case if she’d won this particular competition where he knew the best of the best competed. Why in the world had she quit skiing?

  He spotted several photos of a young, winning Hannah. Other members of the James family were also displayed in various athletic endeavors—basketball, football, baseball, track and field. The James family held some athletic genes, and Rankins was obviously proud of its athletes, as it should be, Tate thought. There were a few photos of him scattered around his little hometown in Colorado, too.

  He made his way back to the register. “Sorry, I was checking out your wall back there. Love it.”

  Ian nodded proudly. “Mr. Bradbury—the owner, he’s a huge supporter of community sports and stuff. He’s awesome like that.”

  “Do you know why Hannah James quit skiing?”

  Ian combined a grimace with a nod and supplied, “Injury. Major bummer. She was wicked good. Hannah is the coolest. She was—”

  The phone rang. He glanced at the display and said, “Speaking of my boss. Do you mind?” He pointed at the phone.

  “Not at all,” Tate answered.

  Injury, huh? He silently speculated about how bad it had to have been that she’d quit the sport completely. He wanted to ask, but he could tell this call was going to take a while.

  He paid, then waved goodbye to a still-talking Ian and decided to stop at Snowy Sky on his way home. He suddenly had an urge to speak to Hannah. Surely she’d had time to calm down and think things through by now.

  * * *

  OF COURSE SHE had to be on the roof. Clearly, the woman had no concern for her own safety, making him wonder again about the accident that had caused her retirement.

  Tate felt a strange mix of amusement and fear as he watched her shoveling the snow from the roof. Freddie was on the opposite end, both of them working their way toward the middle of the building. He took a moment to appreciate her lithe, graceful movements before she caught him watching.

  Pausing for a few seconds, she seemed to be talking to herself. She went back to scooping.

  He moved closer until he was standing next to the ladder they had propped up against the building.

  “Hey,” he called. “I know you saw me. What are you doing?”

  “Baking cookies,” she replied sarcastically. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Freddie’s laughter drifted down to him.

  Okay, clearly he needed a new approach. “Can I come up and talk to you for a minute?”

  Rustling ensued and then her face appeared above him, gold-brown eyes staring down at him from beneath her stocking cap. She looked so pretty with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. But her scowl, clearly directed at him? Not so pretty.

  “No. What do you need?”

  “Why are you up there shoveling snow? It’s dangerous.”

  She scowled more fiercely. “Oh, so I should pass all the dangerous jobs off on someone else?”

  Her logic had a way of making him feel so...dense.

  “I just don’t want you falling off or something.”

  “How sweet,” she drawled out the word before rolling her eyes and adding, “I’m not reckless. Freddie and I are both wearing harnesses. Did you stop by to lecture me on my safety again? Because I can assure you, my shoveling snow doesn’t concern you.”

  This wasn’t going the way he’d anticipated. He needed to change tactics. “You know that Festival of Trees?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What do I wear to an event like that? I forgot to ask when I RSVP’d and the flier doesn’t say. Do people usually dress up?”

  “They usually do, yes. But I’m not sure if you have the right clothes for—”

  “I’ll figure something out—” he interrupted. “Hannah, I didn’t really come here to talk to you about that. I was just... If you could spare a few minutes I’d like to go over what happened at the board meeting.”

  “I don’t see the point.”

  “I do.” He went on before she could argue, “You probably don’t believe this, but I only want what’s best for Snowy Sky. And for Lucas, for my family. My recommendations make perfect sense and if you would take the time to get past your disdain for snowboarding you would see that. You’re a smart woman and—”

  She let out an impatient sigh. “Don’t patronize me. I know I’m smart. And I have no disdain for snowboarding. I just don’t think it’s necessary to structure the resort around it, not to mention take on the added expense, which we clearly interpret differently. But what does any of this have to do with Lucas or your family?”

  “Would you please come down here so I can explain?”

  “Explain what? How you ambushed me? I may be young, I may not have a college education, I may not look the part of a businesswoman to you, but my only mistake was in giving you the benefit of the doubt and believing your Mr. Nice Guy routine.”

  “Mr. Nice Guy routine? I wasn’t... Would you please listen to reason?”

  “Reason? I thought you were just giving your opinion? I thought that’s what you were hired to do—consult. Give your opinion. But I guess that was before you decided to take over my resort, which in essence answers your question about why I’m not reasonable on this topic. Snowy Sky is mine.”

  An exasperated sigh escaped him. “Except, that it’s also mine now, too. And a few others’, as well. All of whom should have a say in what happens with it.”

  “You’ve already had plenty to say. And I haven’t stopped you from saying any of it, have I? In fact, I kind of helped you out there. A heads-up would have been nice, you know? I wasn’t anything but accommodating to you. And then you stabbed me in the back.”

  “Stabbed you in the back?” he repeated incredulously. “I did not... That’s ridiculous. If you would have asked me what I was going to bring to the board I would have told you. In fact, I was a little surprised you didn’t. That confirmed my initial impression that you were rather ambivalent about the whole thing and I...” His neck hurt so he looked toward the side of the building as he kept explaining.

  When he looked back up again she’d disappeared.

  “Hannah?” he called out, only to be hit directly between the eyes with a snowball. He sputtered and took a step to the side, wiping his face before looking up again. “Did you just hit me with a snowball?”

  She peeked over the side of the roof. “Yes, I did. Anything ambivalent about that, Tate?”

  * * *

  HANNAH WATCHED HIM walk away, already regretting the spontaneous display of temper. Dr. Voss would not be pleased by her loss of control. He would remind her that such a demonstration was counterproductive. But ambivalent? How could he...? She couldn’t possibly have given off that impression, could she?

  She flung a shovel full of snow off the r
oof, and then another, hoping the physical exertion would calm her down.

  She couldn’t get past how wrong she’d been about him and the job he’d been hired to do. So much for the here today, gone tomorrow visit that she’d hoped for.

  What was she going to do?

  “Hannah, are you okay?”

  She looked up to find Freddie watching her intently.

  “No. I mean, yes. Yes, I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. No, she wasn’t fine at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TO SAY HE felt conspicuous would be a dramatic understatement. Complete idiot would probably suffice, Tate decided as he wandered around the room in his nicest suit. He’d even worn a tie. A cursory perusal of the crowd gathered in the Faraway Restaurant’s dining room for the Festival of Trees fund-raiser hadn’t revealed a single other tie-wearing individual, unless you counted the giant plush Christmas bear sitting on the prize table with a red satin bow crookedly positioned around his neck.

  Studying the crowd, he realized that overdressed didn’t exactly describe the manner in which his attire was lacking. He’d specifically asked, but Hannah hadn’t mentioned that he was supposed to wear...

  “Hey, why does Addison get to wear regular clothes?” Jonah Cedar, Shay’s husband and Hannah’s brother-in-law, flipped a thumb in Tate’s direction. Jonah was wearing a blue and silver sweater featuring Rudolph sporting his own tiny Christmas sweater and holding an American flag. Tate decided the only sweater worse than Jonah’s was the one Hannah’s cousin-in-law Aidan Hollings was wearing.

  His sweater was red, white and green with little yellow-and-black bees all over it. A giant bee with a kind of demented grin graced the front. The bee was wearing a Santa hat and holding a candy cane in each of his front—what did you call them on a bee? Legs?

  Shay studied Jonah with narrowed eyes. “Obviously Tate’s not participating in the contest. Give him a break—he’s new in town.”

  “Or he didn’t want to humiliate himself.”