A Family Like Hannah's

by Carol Ross

  She couldn’t speak. This was too much. Rejections from the only two men she’d cared about in her entire life and then apologies from them both on the same night? What was wrong with her that they couldn’t just...not hurt her in the first place?

  Tate stopped walking and only then did she realize they were standing in front of the lodge.

  “Thank you for escorting me back. I’m, um, a little out of it. And my leg hurts. Can we talk about this later?” She forced the words out of her painfully dry throat as she looked up to meet his eyes. Why was this happening to her? She extricated her hand from his and immediately felt the cold begin to seep back into her body.

  “Of course. Your leg hurts?”

  Had she mentioned her leg? Why had she said that? She didn’t want him to know. She forced out a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “It’s nothing. Just an old injury that flares up once in a while. I’m sure you have some of those, too.”

  He didn’t answer, just stared with warm, pleading eyes that she couldn’t deal with right now. It was a look she would have loved to have seen a couple of weeks ago on Christmas. What had changed? she wondered. She suddenly wanted to scream at him for playing with her emotions in this way. But Hannah wasn’t a screamer either.

  She shivered. “Good night, Tate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  TATE WATCHED HANNAH jog up the stairs into the lodge and felt a brutal mix of longing and regret and love.

  Love?

  Yep, he was in love with her. He’d been in love with her almost from the first. Why had he waited so long to admit it to himself? Because if he hadn’t he could go to her right now.

  She was clearly miserable and he couldn’t stand it. It was so rare to see anything but happiness radiating from her. He’d seen anger a few times, had the snowball memory to prove it, but never this sadness. He wished he could go after her and make her smile.

  He loved her smile. Hannah’s smile made him feel as though everything was right in the entire universe and when she directed it at him, he felt like a better man—a better person, like anything was possible. No wonder Lucas adored her so much. The thought of not seeing that smile anymore made his heart hurt.

  Cricket’s words from that day in the Faraway Restaurant floated through his brain about Hannah being “tough.” And brave. Tate had assumed Cricket meant that in the business sense.

  If he was going to try and... What was he going to try and do where she was concerned? Win her back wasn’t quite right because he hadn’t exactly had her to begin with. And whose fault was that? he asked himself. He wanted her in his life, he knew that, and if he was going to stand a chance he would need more information—information he should have sought long ago. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  He sent a text to Viktor to let him know he was back at the lodge but wouldn’t be back in the room for a while. Instead he walked over to the concierge desk, handed the young man an outrageous tip and asked if he would order him a large black coffee from the restaurant. Then he took a seat in the lobby and waited.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HEAD POUNDING, EARS RINGING, leg aching, and with a vague sense of nausea still plaguing her, Hannah finally made it to her room. It seemed like a chore even to remove her clothing; she only managed to kick off her boots and peel away her outer layer before collapsing on the bed.

  Hours, minutes, she had no idea how much time had passed when she heard Adele sneaking into the room. A moment later she felt a soft hand touching her forehead. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly.

  “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I was worried you might have a fever.”

  “You’re sweet.” Hannah tucked a hand beneath her cheek. “No, I’m just lying here. Thinking.”

  “Cricket said he saw you talking to a guy in the bar. He said he thought it was Spencer. He’s your old boyfriend, right? That cretin who broke your heart while you were still in the hospital?”

  Hannah exhaled wearily. “Yes.”

  “That explains your odd behavior. I even feel a little sick myself now. What did he say?”

  “Everything. Everything I would have loved to have heard him say three years ago.”

  “You’ve told me before that you don’t have feelings for him anymore. Did seeing him make you realize that you do?”

  “Yes, no, maybe...sort of.”

  * * *

  TATE WAITED ALMOST an hour in the lobby before Cricket had finally shown up holding Adele’s hand tightly in his. He waited some more while the couple appeared to argue. Finally Cricket pushed the button and the doors slid open. Adele stepped inside—alone. Tate hurriedly sent him a text.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and then scanned the lobby. Tate waved.

  Cricket walked over and sat in the adjacent chair. “What’s up?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “I’m flattered, but hopelessly infatuated with someone else.”

  Tate laughed.

  “If you’re wanting a night out on the town, I’m done, man. I think I’m getting old.”

  “Don’t feel bad—I’ve always been old.”

  “You don’t drink at all, do you?”

  “No. Too much addiction in my genetic makeup.”

  “Smart. I’ve got some of that, too.”

  “I need you to tell me about Hannah.”

  Cricket’s entire body took on a defensive posture; menacing scowl, hands raised, head shaking. “No way. If you want to know something about Hannah you need to ask her yourself. No way would I betray that girl.”

  Tate grinned. “I know she’s your partner and a good friend, and I respect that. I’m not asking you to give me proprietary information. And I’d love to ask her myself but I’m afraid time is of the essence here.”

  Now he looked curious. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know Spencer Kitt?”

  Cricket fell back against the fluffy cushion behind him as he let out a sigh. “I told Adele I thought I saw him in the bar. He was talking to Hannah, right?”

  “Yep. I want to know what he means to her.”

  “I can’t say for sure what he means now, but I know he meant a lot once upon a time. Before he broke up with her.”

  Tate couldn’t imagine why a simpleton like Spencer Kitt would give up a woman like Hannah. “The reason?”

  “You heard about the accident, right?”

  Tate tilted his head. “Accident?”

  “Hannah’s accident?” Cricket’s eyes widened with surprise. “Man, you are behind the curve. I’ll tell you what I know because it’s information you could get from almost anyone in Rankins. That stunt she pulled on New Year’s kind of leads me to believe that she, uh, likes you.”

  Tate couldn’t help the satisfied grin that erupted across his face. He’d been thinking about that, too. Holding on to that possibility. He lifted a hand, motioning for Cricket to continue.

  “So, the accident... She was on her way home from a day of training at Squaw Valley when a drunk driver crossed the center line...”

  As Cricket relayed the story as he knew it, Tate experienced alternating bouts of horror, grief, sadness and relief.

  “She’s lucky to be alive. I can’t even remember how many bones were broken.”

  Tate continued to listen, dumbfounded at the challenges she’d overcome during her long recovery.

  “So,” Cricket said when he’d finished, “you can see why Snowy Sky is so important to her. After losing her skiing career and everything she’d worked so hard for, and nearly her life, she views that resort as her shot at redemption—her second chance at success.”

  Tate nodded slowly, trying to let it all sink in. Finally he said, “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

  Cricket smil
ed. “Good luck, man. No offense, but you’re going to need it to get Hannah.”

  Tate stayed put in the lobby for a long time after Cricket left and considered everything he’d heard. Hannah had been through so much. How could he have been so blind? So self-absorbed? She had quit skiing because she’d been in a terrible accident, which had nearly killed her. Her recovery had taken many months, physical as well as mental.

  Frustration made his skin crawl as he thought the situation through, feeling like a complete imbecile. Despite Viktor’s observations and not-so-subtle comments, he’d been so focused on his own life, his wants and needs, that he hadn’t stopped to think that there might be more to Hannah than what he saw—what she let anyone see.

  The assumptions he had made about Snowy Sky being just a business proposition to her. The kid in Bradbury’s had told him that she’d been injured, but he’d never dreamed it had been so severe. Why hadn’t he taken that as a cue to find out? She’d even made a joke about her therapist that night at the Festival of Trees fund-raiser. Tate could only imagine how losing everything like she had would mess with a person’s head.

  And Kitt? What kind of a louse breaks up with a woman so soon after she’s suffered that kind of trauma?

  His heart hurt to think about everything she’d been through. In spite of all of that, here she was, giving her time and energy and love to Lucas. And to him. He’d reciprocated by...by bulldozing his way into her life, wreaking havoc and threatening everything she’d worked so hard for. Then he’d kissed her only to be frightened away by the demons of his own past and fear of his shortcomings.

  He couldn’t believe he’d blown a chance with the most amazing woman he’d ever met. No, that wasn’t true; he was pretty sure Hannah was the most amazing woman on the planet.

  He’d screwed up even worse than he realized. If he still had a shot he wasn’t going to blow it this time.

  * * *

  HANNAH AWOKE THE next morning to a firm knocking on the door. She heard Adele come out of the bathroom and watched her jog toward the door. There was some mumbling and then a young guy in a navy blue jacket came in with a huge bouquet of peach-colored roses.

  After handing him a tip and seeing him to the door she hustled back and flopped on the end of Hannah’s bed.

  “My goodness, what a way to start your morning, huh?”

  “Those are for me?”

  “Who else would they be for?”

  “You.”

  “What?”

  “From Cricket.”

  “That man,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes, but Hannah could tell the malice just wasn’t there. “We’re not quite to the flower stage yet.”

  There was a card with the flowers. “What does the note say?” Hannah asked, propping the pillows up behind her.

  “I wonder what orange roses signify?” Adele pondered as she tore open the card.

  Hannah knew the color didn’t mean anything in this case. Well, nothing in the sense Adele suggested.

  “‘Will you please have dinner with me tonight?’ It’s not signed.”

  “They’re from Spencer. He sent me this color of roses once when we were dating. I told him they were my favorite.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT MORNING Hannah placed the toe of one boot into her ski binding, clicked the heel into place and then repeated the action with her other leg. It still felt a little strange to ski without gearing up to race. For some reason it hit her hard this day.

  She tried to think of something positive; one nice thing about skiing recreationally was that she no longer had to wear her boots quite so tight. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. Who was she kidding? She missed those boots that made her feet ache and her toes numb. Missed them with a desperation that nearly left her breathless.

  Some things are not meant to be, Hannah, she told herself, pulling her goggles down from their perch on her helmet and securing them in place over her eyes. Like her and Tate. Pushing outward from the center of her boot with one ski, and then the other, she glided toward the lift.

  Several lanes were roped off at the top of the rise like the line for an amusement-park ride. There wasn’t much of a crowd and no one else in the single-rider line, but when it was her turn to enter into the main queue, a snowboarder joined her. Something hitched in her chest when she realized it was Tate. An entire mountain and here he is journeying up the lift to the beginner runs? Interesting coincidence.

  “Good morning. Mind if I join you?”

  “Good morning. Nope, that would be fine.”

  She shuffled her skis along. They were only a few spots away from their turn.

  “Lucas is riding with Viktor.”

  She moved forward and positioned her skis on the platform. He manipulated his board into place beside her. They both looked over their shoulders and grabbed the chair as it smoothly slid in place behind their knees, lifting them as they leaned back and sailed up into the air.

  “How is Lucas doing?” Hannah asked after she’d settled her skis on the metal bar that acted as a footrest. She loved the footrests that a lot of the newer lifts were equipped with these days. Snowy Sky would have them and it was so nice to be able to rest your legs after hours of hard skiing in heavy, tight boots weighed down with skis.

  Especially if you were cursed with a bum leg. She subtly shifted her weight to ease the pain from the pressure now on it.

  “He’s having fun.”

  “Good. I saw him at breakfast. He seemed excited about his lesson with Viktor this morning. I told him I’d spend some time with him after lunch.”

  “Ah...that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Explains why he just asked me how much longer till lunch?”

  She laughed.

  “I watched him eat two plate-sized pancakes, four strips of bacon, and about a pound and a half of strawberries less than an hour ago, so I knew he couldn’t really be hungry.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to it, too.”

  She could feel Tate’s eyes drilling into her, but she kept staring straight ahead.

  “He was wondering if you could give him another ski lesson?”

  Her stomach tightened. Was this his idea of an apology? She turned her head then and felt confident her look conveyed her general feeling of hurt and confusion.

  “I’m so sorry, Hannah. I overreacted about the skiing thing. I’d like to explain about that. You were basically right when you accused me of wanting Lucas to snowboard for my sake. I...I thought it was the one thing I could teach him. A way for us to connect.”

  “There are a million things for you to teach him. A million ways to show him you love him. I see you doing both all the time. And you’re doing a great job by the way.”

  He cut his eyes away and then brought them right back. “Thank you. I know. I know that now. I mean, I’ve come to realize that. Thanks to you.”

  She nodded. It was a good apology. She smiled at him and he smiled back and Hannah felt her heart skip a beat. Why did he have to be so irresistible?

  “I’d like to discuss this some more and there are other things I’d like to talk to you about, too. Can we maybe have dinner tonight? Just the two of us?”

  “I can’t. I have plans.”

  “With Adele? Because Cricket wants to take her—”

  “No, with someone else.”

  “Spencer?” By his tone he may as well have said Attila the Hun.

  Spencer had called to follow up on his dinner invitation. He said he wanted to talk, too. Suddenly everyone wanted to talk to her. Her first instinct had been to decline. The idea of spending time with him like that felt too painful, but he’d been so earnest, so convincing. Amazing how his voice, his sweetness had catapulted her back to the past. She’d eventually ag
reed.

  “Yes, with Spencer.”

  “I could tell there was something between you two at the bar last night.”

  “There’s nothing between him and I. There used to be—a long time ago. I don’t know...”

  They’d reached the top of the lift and she was glad because she’d had no idea what she was going to say. They both bailed off and moved to one side so Tate could secure his one loose boot to his board. Which he did quickly, then he stood upright again, clapping his gloves together, shaking off the bits of snow he’d accumulated in the process.

  “Can I see you after?”

  “After what?”

  “After your dinner.”

  “After dinner is the party. We told Lucas we’d go together.”

  Lines of frustration appeared on his forehead, but apparently he wasn’t discouraged because they were quickly smoothed away with a grin.

  “That’s right. Okay, I’ll see you there, then—at the party.”

  * * *

  TATE WATCHED HANNAH and Spencer Kitt from his own table across the restaurant. Kitt’s body language told him everything he needed to know—the hand at her elbow when they were seated, reaching across the table to touch her hair, leaning-over-the-table type of conversation. Kitt wanted her back.

  Had Tate started calling the nicest restaurants in town until he found their reservation? Had he arrived early and tipped the waitress beforehand to seat them at a certain table? Did he feel like a stalker? Yes to all three disturbing questions, but now was not the time for introspection.

  A man wearing a black suit and shiny gelled hair delivered a bottle of wine to their table that Tate knew for a fact Hannah wouldn’t drink. Strike one, he thought with satisfaction as he deduced that Hannah must have drank before the accident. That moron Kitt didn’t know her at all anymore.

  The sommelier handed the glass to Kitt who swirled it around and sniffed it and acted like he knew what he was doing, before taking a sip and nodding his approval. The guy topped off his glass and then picked up the one sitting in front of Hannah. She shook her head, obviously declining. Kitt looked a little annoyed but quickly squelched it. He’d probably hoped to impress Hannah with an expensive bottle of wine, and now here he was stuck with it when he probably would have been just as happy with a cheap beer.