by Marina Adair
And maybe it would give him a chance to make amends for breaking his mom’s heart.
“It’s bad. In fact, we need to hire some help if we want to make the next inspection.”
“I knew there were problems,” she said, her voice so strained Ty’s rescue instinct went into hyper mode. “I’ve been so focused on your dad—driving him to all his appointments, making sure he was okay—that I haven’t been keeping as close an eye on things.”
“Why are you driving Dad around?” Dale didn’t ride shotgun; he steered the vehicle. Always.
Irene’s shoulders caved. “He ran to the grocery store a few months ago, and when he wasn’t home by dinner I got worried. Sheriff Watson showed up around nine and said he found Dale on the side of the road looking at a map.” She let out a small sniff. “I guess they were doing some kind of construction on the highway, and he’d taken the detour and got turned around and couldn’t find his way back.”
“The grocery store is less than a mile from here. How did he get lost?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sounding exhausted. “Sheriff Watson said Dale seemed agitated and confused when he pulled up, so even when your dad insisted it was just his night vision, Watson insisted on following him home.”
“I bet that went over well,” Ty deadpanned.
“Oh, your dad was so embarrassed,” Irene said, full of concern. “Blamed it on the public works department, said they needed to post more helpful signage and increase street lamps on that road.”
“What did the sheriff say?”
“That he didn’t want to see Dale driving at night until we saw a doctor.” Irene shrugged. “We saw the eye doctor that next week, and his vision is fine. I tried to have him get a second opinion, but you know your dad.”
Stubborn as the day is long.
Ty leaned back and let out a long breath, hoping to relieve some of the building pressure. It didn’t help. In fact, he wasn’t sure at this point how he could be of help. Getting the lodge back in order sounded like it was just the start of the problem.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Irene’s face softened, to the point where Ty felt a familiar ache deep in his chest.
“Would it have made a difference? Would you have come any earlier?”
“If I’d known that there was a problem,” he said, then wondered if that was the truth.
Outside of a death in the family or natural disaster, there wasn’t much that would get him home around the holidays. Coming home was painful enough. Around the holidays the guilt was suffocating, tightening around his throat as a reminder that his family would never be complete. No matter how hard he wished it different.
“I could have reasoned with him,” Ty said. “Made him go to the doctor again.”
“Which is why I didn’t bother you. You two don’t need another reason to argue. Plus, I think it’s stress. Your dad is under a lot of pressure right now, and the stress is really getting to him,” Irene said, looking down at her folded hands. “He hasn’t been sleeping much and has a hard time staying alert during the day, and sometimes his mind goes a little fuzzy.”
“Mom,” he said quietly. “This lodge is too big for the two of you to handle. You need to hire someone to help manage it.” A suggestion he’d brought up before but was always met with hostility.
Ty knew firsthand how debilitating prolonged stress and sleep deprivation could be on a person. It affected a person’s mood, energy levels, and cognitive abilities. Add fear over the lodge’s well-being and it was no wonder his dad was acting so strange.
Bottom line—Dale was getting older. It was natural that he’d need some help with the heavy lifting that came with running a lodge this size.
“I think it’s time to look into that,” she said, sounding overwhelmed at the idea. “But you know how your dad can get about new people. I’m trying to respect Dale’s wishes and do what’s right for the lodge, and all I seem to be doing is letting everyone down.”
Ty softened his voice. “You didn’t let anyone down.”
In fact, he had a sinking suspicion she was the only one holding things together. Irene had been the glue struggling to hold the family together after Garrett, and she was still struggling to please them all. Sadly, all of the love in the world couldn’t heal this family, but Irene was nothing if not persistent.
A few broken skis and snowmobiles would be one thing, but whatever was happening went much further than losing Mark and Brody. And Ty was going to get to the bottom of it.
He couldn’t bring back Garrett, but he could save the lodge and lighten his dad’s load in the process. All he needed was to get the most stubborn, independent man in the world to agree to accept the help.
“I’ll fix this, Mom. I promise.”
And Ty had vowed to never again make a promise he couldn’t keep.
By Wednesday, Ty had a good grasp on the logistics of hosting SAREX, and he had covered three group hikes and a solo climb. With the morning clear, he went down to the boathouse early to meet Harris, hoping to get a jump on cataloguing the water equipment. Knowing what he was facing would be important in making a plan of action. Feeling suffocated by the enormity of it all, he watched the sun peek over the red tin-roofed structure that hung over the end of the dock, and he tried to focus on the way the water rhythmically lapped at the pylons.
It didn’t help.
Ty and Harris were only an hour into checking out the boats, and Ty was ready to call it. Between the lodge’s skiffs, Zodiacs, and hoppers, there were thirty-three poweredboats to check. Ty had checked twenty so far. Seven were dented, five needed new batteries, and two were begging to be scrapped. All problems that could have been avoided if the equipment manager had done his job and stowed the gear right.
And don’t even get him started on the schedule. His dad was still using his trusty Post-it system, meaning one had to trust that Dale remembered to post everyone’s schedule. It was a miracle more bookings didn’t get lost.
“How does it sound?” Ty asked as Harris pulled their Coast Guard Delta—a forty-foot sportsman fishing cruiser—into the boathouse, the boat letting loose an audible sputter as it got closer. The cold bite of the morning air frosted his breath and sent small clouds billowing into the sky.
Harris cut the engine. “Like it sat idle all winter. I’ll have to check the fluids and lines to see what the problem is, but it doesn’t look good.”
Not a good diagnosis coming from the gearhead of the family. There wasn’t an engine Harris couldn’t fix, period. The guy had rebuilt his first helicopter by the age of fifteen.
“Who lets a sixty-thousand-dollar boat sit all winter?”
“You know who, man. The only reason I got this close to it is because your dad is still sleeping. If he caught me on his boat he’d rip me a new one,” Harris said. “After Mark quit, I set Dale up with a few local guys who do good work. He took one interview and then said he didn’t need some millennial telling him how to run his fleet.”
“Him and his vast knowledge of all things Sequoia Lake aren’t doing much better,” Ty said. “Isn’t there anyone he likes in the area?”
“The only qualified mechanic in town who your dad hasn’t pissed off is Nelson.”
Ty grimaced. Nelson had a habit of turning a simple oil change into a complete engine rebuild. He was cranky, slow as slush, and predated the glaciers.
“I’ll call around to see if any mechanics from Reno or Truckee are looking to relocate.” Ty took a small notebook from his back pocket and scribbled FIND MECHANIC at the bottom of his ever-growing list. “Can you see if you can isolate the problem so we know what we’re looking at parts wise?”
Harris let out a low whistle. “I’ll see what I can do, but parts for this bad boy are special order.”
“We can rush them if needed. That’s our biggest cruiser,” Ty pointed out. “Sequoia Elite specifically requested to use it for the water operations training.”
It was the main reaso
n the lodge had invested in the boat to begin with. Having the largest rental boat on Sequoia Lake brought in groups of fishermen in the spring, large families in the summer, and all kinds of first responders during training season.
“What about one of the C27 Zodiacs?” Harris asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to the civilian version of the boat that the Navy SEALs were famous for using.
Ty shook his head. “They hold half the bodies. There’s no way the water recovery team could all fit in there. They’d have to divide their class down the middle and hold two courses.”
Harris stepped off the boat and onto the dock, wiping his hands on one of the garage rags. “It’s an option.”
It was an option, just not an ideal one. A huge part of training was working hands-on with your team. Tackling new scenarios and pushing past one’s limits was only part of it. The time spent together built a cadence that was essential for creating trust. In the field, Ty didn’t have time to second-guess. He needed to make a call and know, without hesitation, that his team could execute. And when shit got real, there wasn’t the time to make a call. Every member had to go off instinct—instinct that was built during these kinds of intense trainings.
“I’ll help as much as I can, but I’m pulling a sixty next week.” Harris tossed his life vest on the hook. “So you might want to consider having a backup plan.”
Like packing up his bag and heading back to Monterey? Rescuing a terrified sumo wrestler during riptide sounded easier than passing inspection. “I am the backup plan.”
Harris picked up his tools and fell in beside Ty as they headed up the stone pathway toward the back of the lodge. Neither of them said a word, Ty deep in thought, desperately searching for a plan B. Harris knew his cousin enough to give him the silence he needed to think. By the time they reached the office, Ty had worked through every possible solution.
“We just need to get through this inspection” was as far as he got.
“And after the inspection?” Harris asked, opening the back door.
“We get through SAREX.” A solid plan.
“Then what?” Harris asked as they made their way past the kitchen and into the corridor of offices that housed the people who kept the lodge running. “You leave, go back to paradise and your life far, far away, and next year you’ll have the same problems.”
“I know.” Ty ran a hand over his face, his eyes as scratchy as his chin. It was the problem that had kept him up all night. And okay, thinking about firing Avery hadn’t helped.
Ty was a fixer by nature, and his first instinct was to charge into trouble and rescue those in need. Yet he’d been back home for less than a week and already he was back to ruining lives. And he’d just started cleaning house.
“We need more manpower,” he said, looking at the wall of employee photos lining the hallway. Dale had a way of getting some of the country’s best to pass up offers to work at Aspen or Breckenridge and instead come to a tiny western town in the middle of the mountains. It was people like that who made Sequoia Lake Lodge so successful over the years. It was a level of expertise Ty needed to find if his dad’s business stood a chance.
“At the rate you and Dale are going, you’ll fire or scare off everyone but Leslie in billing, and only because she came with the lodge.” Harris stopped. “Did you really fire Avery after that kiss?”
“She told you I kissed her?”
“I was talking about the kiss at the bar. I guess you’re talking about something else.”
“Yeah.” It was something else all right.
Harris shook his head. “What did you do for fun after, kick a puppy?”
Ty ignored this and thought back to his dad the other night. How upset his mom had been when she’d confided in Ty about the effect the stress was having on Dale. “This place needs qualified manpower. A team that will keep things going after I’m gone. Maybe even a general manager to oversee things, make sure nothing falls through the cracks. The lodge is understaffed, and my dad isn’t running as tight of a ship it seems.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Start making some calls,” Ty said, opening the office door and stopping short.
There were files strewn all over his dad’s desk, a week’s worth of mail stacked up, and the phone was going ballistic. In fact, the only calm place in the middle of that storm was the receptionist’s desk.
Which was occupied by Avery—and meticulously organized.
She was in control of her surroundings—her fingers clicking the keyboard, the phone to her ear, and she was entering something on a fancy spreadsheet as if she hadn’t been fired. She even wore a pair of khakis, a company blue tee that matched her eyes and hugged her to perfection, and a black ball cap that said NO FEAR.
She looked up and smiled. “You might want to answer the calls coming in first. I’d help, but I’m on hold.” She pointed to the phone next to her ear, and Harris laughed.
Ty jabbed him in the gut and said, “Get the phone.” Harris crossed his arms. “Please?”
“Fine, but you have to play Ice Princess with Emma on game night.”
He had no idea what Ice Princess was, but it couldn’t be so involved that he couldn’t watch the game, so he said, “Fine.”
With a shit-eating grin, Harris picked up the phone. “Sequoia Lake Lodge, this is Ty Donovan, town’s biggest ice princess, how can I assist you?”
Ty rolled his eyes, then approached the reception desk. “I thought I fired you.”
“You did, but that was when I was acting as an adventure guide,” Avery said, flipping through a file on her desk. “A position which, I agree, I need more training for. Which is why I am back to being Sequoia Lake Lodge’s adventure coordinator and customer service representative.”
He wanted to smile, so much his cheeks hurt, but it would have ruined his bad mood. “My mistake, I must have been unclear. But when an employee poses as a guide, putting a guest in danger, they lose all of their jobs. The fake ones and the real one.”
Locating whatever she was searching for, she made some swirly notes on a Post-it. “You weren’t all that honest either. Or professional,” she whispered, and Ty felt his neck heat. “But I’m willing to overlook it and start over. Good morning. I’m Avery Adams. Nice to meet you.”
Standing, she smacked his chest, sticking the Post-it note to his shirt.
He shot her a look, which made her smile bigger, then glanced at the note. “Is this you slipping me your number?”
“No, that’s Brian’s number. And although I think you two would have a lot in common—dominating mountains and building fire from toothpicks and Saran wrap—he’s married. He’s also a mechanic from Incline who’s looking to move his family here to Sequoia Lake so he can afford a house. He booked your dad for a snowshoeing trip around the holidays and made Dale laugh. I’d say he’s your best bet.” She lowered her voice. “And I wouldn’t give my number to a coworker.”
“Good thing I fired you,” he said just as quietly, then peeled the note off. “How did you know I need a mechanic?”
“Because I’m good at my job.”
He laughed. “A fact that I could easily argue.”
“Ah, but we’re starting over, remember?” He didn’t remember anything, but the sweet scent of vanilla and crazy cutie was messing with his ability to think. “And while, admittedly, there is room to grow as a guide, I rock at coordinating and managing. You can ask my old bosses—they’ll say I’m organized, efficient, motivated, and a fast learner. All I need is someone to see that I have—”
“No,” he said, backing away from the desk because he had a sick feeling that her smile could charm him into just about anything. And he couldn’t hire her back, no matter how good a kisser she was. Not when he knew the first chance she got to spread her wings, she’d go BASE jumping off Sierra Point.
“But you need a beginners guide, and what I lack in experience I make up for in—”
“No,” he repeated, then said it
softer, because he could already see her heart swimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry, angel, but rules are rules.”
With a giddy clap, as if she’d just been promoted to zip-line instructor, she bent down and rifled through her bottom drawer. When she came up, she was holding a leather-bound book that was the size of a phone book and had a picture of Sequoia Lake Lodge on the cover. “Show me.”
“What?”
She pushed the book—the same book his dad had used to keep Ty in order—his way, then clasped her hands. “Show me where that rule is. Because I’ve been working for Dale for a few months now, and he says everything I need to know is in this book. Which is why I’ve read it forward and backward, and I don’t remember that rule. Anywhere.” She smiled up at him. “So show me. Please.”
He pushed the book back. “Being educated and being experienced are two different skills, and I don’t think that this—”
She held up a finger, silencing him. “No.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No problem at all, Mr. Lismore.”
It took him a moment to realize she was talking to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“Like I was saying, I can fit you in tomorrow at three . . . Oh, a picnic, how romantic . . . Let me see if we have anything closer to lunch.”
She pushed hold, swiped the mouse, and up popped a beautifully coded spreadsheet, complete with client names, contact info, and trail preferences, each one assigned to a guide.
“Art Lismore is staying in the Alpine suite and wants to change his morning fishing trip tomorrow to Sunday, then book a nature hike around the lake at eleven so he can surprise his lady friend with a champagne picnic. Can you take him?” She blinked up at him. “Ty?”
“Oh, are you talking to me again?”
She nodded. “Yes, can you take him? Brody is still out, Marshall is taking the Rotary Club on a daylong fishing trip, and everyone else is booked.” Her eyes went all dreamy. “I think Art is going to ask Helga from 305 out on a date. They met last week in the lobby when he was checking out. Then he heard she and her sisters were staying through the week and”—she wiggled her fingers, like little celebratory sparklers—“here he is. Looking to impress.”