When she got back to her car, she checked her phone. The call was from a Utah number, which made her wonder about Diana, especially since the baby was due in a couple weeks. She listened to the message. It was Asher.
“Hey, Hannah. It’s Ash. Good news, baby’s here. It’s a boy. Ten fingers, ten toes. Diana’s fast asleep, so I’m taking phone duty and trying to spread the word and trying to find someone to cover me at the shop… anyway, talk to you soon.”
As Hannah listened, Asher words competed with the sound of the baby crying. Asher sounded like a crazy mixture of happy and tired, the kind of tired you felt when you were so exhausted that you were almost wired, like your body was trying desperately to stay awake.
Hannah had a sudden idea. She called him back.
“Hello?” Asher said, sounding distracted. The baby was still crying.
“Ash, it’s Hannah.”
“Hey. Did you get my message?”
“I did. Congrats. Look, how about I come out there and help with the baby?”
“You don’t have to do that. I can close the shop if I have to—”
“I don’t mind. I’ll camp and just help with the mundane stuff. Like cooking. It’ll give me something to do.”
“I know D would love to have you…”
“Then it’s done. I’ll be there tonight.”
Hannah tasted the chili bubbling on Diana and Asher’s stove. Perfect. She checked the timer on the cornbread; it was about done. She got out bowls and spoons before tiptoeing over to Diana and Asher’s bedroom door, which was open.
They’d been sacked out while she cooked, catching up on their sleep after a long journey at the hospital and then another when they got home. Little Jesse had arrived two weeks early, smack in the middle of the period in which Diana and Asher had been working like crazy to prepare, and before family could help. Diana had taken extra clients to give herself some time off when the baby came, and Asher was still facing peak season at his shop.
Last night, Hannah had driven to Red Rim and picked up dinner and some grocery items for them. After sleeping by the Colorado River and a short run that morning, she spent the day cleaning and doing laundry for them while Ash took care of business at his shop for a few hours and Diana caught up on sleep.
When she peeked into their bedroom, she saw Diana smile at her. She was awake, but Ash was still out cold, his wild hair spread across his pillow.
“Hungry?” she whispered.
Diana nodded eagerly and got up, closing the bedroom door behind her. “I’m starving, and I’m salivating at the smell of your chili. Let’s eat before the baby wakes up.”
“The cornbread is gluten-free,” Hannah added, knowing that Diana ate a GF diet to manage her endometriosis.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
They sat down and dug in, and it made Hannah happy to see Diana eat her chili and look so grateful. It reminded her of when she’d fed it to Cain on their backpacking trip, when his face showed his enjoyment and gratitude.
Hannah had never been very good at taking care of others before. It wasn’t because she didn’t care or want to. It was because she didn’t like people doting on her, and she’d assumed others must be the same way. But she’d begun to realize that sometimes people needed taking care of and wouldn’t necessarily ask for it. In fact, the ones who never asked were often the ones who needed it most.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Diana said. “I know you aren’t a baby person.”
“I wanted to come. And Jesse is adorable.”
Diana smiled. “He is, isn’t he? So, how are you? How’s Cain?”
Hannah smiled a little, knowing her time was up and she would have to face inquiry at not having told Diana or anyone about Cain’s deployment. “He’s gone.”
“Gone? Where?”
“He got redeployed.”
She made a face. “What? I thought he was out of the Army.”
“So did I. Turns out he’d been on extended leave, after some bad stuff went down overseas last year.”
Diana’s eyes softened. “Oh no.”
“Oh no what?” came a male voice.
They turned to find Asher standing there, his face sleepy and his hair pulled back again.
“Have some chili, sweetie,” Diana said. “It’s Hannah’s signature dish.”
Asher got a giant helping of chili and a heap of buttered cornbread and sat down. “Am I interrupting girl talk?”
“No,” Hannah said. “D asked me about a guy I was seeing.”
“The mountain man,” Asher said.
“Right. He’s an Army doctor and he’s been redeployed.”
“When did he leave?” Diana said.
“Three weeks ago.”
Diana picked up her cornbread.“Have you guys stayed in touch?”
Hannah shook her head.
“He didn’t want to?” Asher asked.
“I didn’t ask, but I know him. He got a little edgy right before he left. He wasn’t happy about going back and facing everything that happened. I think it’s easier for him to just not feel obligated to me or to stay in touch. To be honest, it’s easier for me, too.”
“What happened last year?” Diana asked. “Can you say?”
Hannah told them everything Cain told her about the unexpected attack, their losing some of their own, and Cain’s feeling responsible. They grimaced.
“That’s awful,” Diana said. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Things were going so well.”
Hannah shrugged. “It’s alright. It was fun while it lasted.” She smiled. “See? That’s what I get for talking about liking him last time I was here.”
But Diana only watched her, as if seeing through Hannah’s attempt at lightheartedness.
“How’d you guys leave things?” Asher said. “And what do you mean he got a little edgy?”
Diana put her hand on Asher’s. “Hannah’s kind of private about stuff like this, Ash.”
Hannah shook her head. “It’s okay. It would be nice to have a guy’s perspective, especially a guy who likes his freedom.” They all giggled at that. Hannah told them about Cain’s announcement that he was leaving in a week, her surprise and ensuing questions, and their argument. “I think he didn’t want things between us to go any further. Which is a fantastic irony, since I’ve traditionally been the one to do that to men.” She looked at Asher. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m a great girl and that he’s missing out.”
Asher shook his head, digging a spoonful of chili. “I’d bet money you’ll hear from him soon.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he wants the separation.”
“I don’t think he wants it. I think he needs it because he’s still got issues to deal with.”
The baby began to cry. Diana and Asher stood up at once, but Hannah stopped them. “I’ll get this round.”
“Are you sure?” Diana said, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll heat up the breast milk.”
Hannah went into the bedroom and picked up the tiny newborn with his thatch of dark hair, holding him to her as he squalled. She kissed his head and returned to the table to sit down. Diana handed her the bottle and Hannah fed little Jesse, cooing and smelling his fresh baby smell as he quieted down and ate his seventh meal of the day.
Diana and Asher finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, putting the giant pot of leftover chili in the fridge for the rest of the weekend. And Hannah sat there with the baby, holding his tiny little body and beholding his gleaming eyes, until he drifted back to sleep.
The following evening, Hannah reluctantly drove home, not wanting to leave her friends. Sure, they were more than capable of taking care of their own child and managing their household without her help, but Hannah couldn’t imagine trying to do all that without someone to take care of the little things. Plus, there was something about seeing Diana and Asher together, with the child both had always wanted, that filled Hannah with a sense of c
ontentment. She didn’t quite know what to make of that, especially when she’d always eschewed anything having to do with babies.
When Hannah got home, she curled up in her chair and checked Facebook, hoping Diana posted some new pics of baby Jesse. Then she saw that she had some new emails.
One of them was from Cain.
Chapter Eighteen
Hannah, hardly believing it when she saw Cain’s name in her inbox, opened the email.
Grace,
How are you? Sorry I’ve been uncommunicative. More than usual, that is ;). Returning to duty has been a bit of a mindfuck for me, but I think I’ve settled into a routine. One good thing: I can be gruff and blunt here and no one questions it. My reputation precedes me.
Sorry if I was an asshole before I left. That wasn’t about you.
How are things? Hope you’re giving that beautiful body the respect it deserves. Tell me everything… just don’t send pics. I’m in this shithole of a place and seeing the Rockies or that face of yours could send me over the edge.
Grizzly
Hannah read the email, and then reread it twice. It irked her how happy it made her to hear from him, to know he’d been thinking of her. Just for a moment, she let herself feel just how much she missed him, how quiet and dull everything seemed without him, how she’d barely given other men a single glance.
She didn’t respond right away. She wanted to think about what to tell him.
The next day, after she got home from work, she wrote Cain back.
Grizzly,
Good to hear from you. Glad things are okay there and that the Army appreciates your gruff ways.
I’m good. I volunteered at the Sagebrush 50, which was a lot of fun. I’m running and building my base again, and my foot hasn’t complained once. I’m starting to get more involved in the ultrarunning community too; who knows, maybe I could learn a few things from them.
I’m sending a pic, but one that should inspire you instead of torture you. It’s a baby (not mine, in case you’re wondering), one I got to hold and hang out with over the weekend. He’s only a few days old, but I can already tell he’s going to be a wild one.
Hope you’re happy,
Grace
Hannah got up from her computer and headed to her bedroom. Just as she started digging out her running clothes, her phone beeped. She had a text from Diana.
DF: Thank you SO much for all your help. Ash says thanks too and that the chili is yummy. It was great to see you.
HC: My pleasure. Jesse is adorable. BTW, tell Ash he was right. Cain did write me. I sent him a pic of the baby. Even a crank like him will smile at a newborn baby pic.
DF: That’s great! I’ll let Ash know. He loves being right. :)
Hannah laughed, got dressed for her run, and headed out.
Hannah checked the temperature outside and decided to add another base layer before venturing out into the cold. It wasn’t dark out yet. She’d adjusted her work schedule so she could go in earlier and leave earlier, giving her more daylight before the sun set and the ice patches got harder to see. If she were going to injure herself running again, it wasn’t going to be at the hands of some bastard of an ice patch.
That afternoon, she would have to do the unthinkable, the thing every trail runner dreaded and complained about. She would have to run on the road. The trails weren’t runnable right now, thanks to a big storm that dropped eighteen inches of snow and rendered the trails perfect for snowshoes, not running shoes.
She put on her knit cap and ventured into the chilly afternoon. She had a no-trails loop she’d run many times before when conditions were snowy, one that took her around her neighborhood and through town. As she ran on the plowed roads through downtown Evergreen, holiday lights graced the shops and restaurants. Hannah had never cared much about Christmas or other holiday traditions, but she secretly loved the lights, even the cheesy or ostentatious ones. When she drove through at night, they lit up the cold dark nights and made her want to snuggle into her chair and drink spiced cider as she read.
Running was going well. Really well. She could tell she was still slower than she wanted to be, but her body felt happy and she felt relaxed on her runs, and that was enough. She didn’t need to be fast to finish High Peaks.
Her new running acquaintances had asked her about the race when she ran with them last weekend, but she told them she wasn’t ready to commit yet. The race always lurked in the back of her mind, but things were going well and she didn’t want to ruin that. And her running buddies totally got that. All that time spent avoiding running with a group, and they’d turned out to be great! They were devoted to running, through and through, even intensely so, but most weren’t competitive and knew when to say when. And they encouraged Hannah to continue taking Cain’s advice.
She did, however, pull out her training plan, which would begin next week. She would follow it, while paying vigilant attention to how her body felt. She’d built up enough of a base during autumn that she could attempt such a program now, including the dual long runs she’d have to do every weekend for the next six months.
Part of her felt daunted by the thought of attempting the training program again, far more daunted than last year. But something told her that was a good thing. She should be daunted. She should respect the race for the giant undertaking it was instead of just assuming she could force her way through it out of sheer will and stubbornness. She’d already tried that and it didn’t go so well.
When she passed downtown and headed back up the hill again, Hannah turned a corner and headed to Cain’s cabin, just to check on it and make sure nothing looked out of place. When she arrived at the end of his drive, there it was.
No lights on. No puff of smoke from the wood-burning stove, meandering out of the chimney and filling the air with that delicious smell. No quiet, semi-grumpy man walking around inside naked as a jaybird, impervious to the cold as he donned those sexy reading glasses and plucked a book from one of his shelves.
Hannah peeked in and around the cabin, finding nothing amiss.
After she’d replied to Cain’s first email, she didn’t hear back again for several more weeks. He never mentioned the picture of baby Jesse, but he did inquire after her and her running, and he shared a little about his work. He sounded okay, albeit impersonal, like they were friends. She’d replied again the next day, but didn’t hear back again until last night.
She liked hearing from Cain. More than she wanted to admit. But it bothered her that his emails were so infrequent, especially when she knew he was stationed at a place where he had nearly 24/7 communication ability. Then, it bothered her that it bothered her. On the one hand, he was staying in touch, when she’d assumed he wouldn’t. On the other, he never mentioned missing her, or anything about when he would come home or what would become of them. The truth was, not hearing from him at all would be easier than whatever this was.
Yet, there was something about seeing that cabin again that sent a flood of lonely feelings to her. It was as if Hannah could feel his isolation, his being stuck somewhere he didn’t want to be, away from his home and his mountains and his bourbon. But then again, that was Cain’s choice and duty, as he pointed out.
When she got home, Hannah leaned against her desk to stretch her tight calves. When she did, she spotted something sticking out from between a stack of Athena catalogs. A piece of paper. She grabbed it.
It was the map and directions Cain had given her the night she’d found his beacon in the hills. The writing was angular and a little messy, the paper crumpled from her stuffing it into her pocket. Hannah couldn’t help but smile, a new batch of feelings flooding her.
Suddenly, she had an idea.
She drove into town and picked up a few things. When she got back, she lined a box with bubble wrap and stuffed it with a bottle of Cain’s favorite bourbon, a small bag of marshmallows, some chocolates, and a few sprigs from the spruce trees near his cabin. He didn’t want reminders, but maybe he needed somet
hing to keep him going, something he loved and could enjoy where he was. She went to the post office and waited in an insanely long line, then paid a fortune to have the parcel rushed overseas, so it would arrive before Christmas.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe he would hate it. But something told her it was what Cain needed, and she wanted him to have it.
She wanted him to be happy.
When Christmas Day rolled around, Hannah pulled up to the big suburban house with the neatly manicured yard and the tasteful holiday lights. She grabbed her bags filled with wine bottles and gifts, and headed to the door.
She knocked, waiting a few seconds before letting herself in. Her parents’ home smelled like its usual hint of perfume, along with the fragrant Christmas tree odor from the huge Douglas Fir that graced the formal living room. This time, the rarely-used living room had several familiar faces sitting in it, talking and catching up. The gas fireplace warmed the room and the tree was beautifully decorated in silver, gold, and white.
Unlike Hannah, her mother had more refined taste in holiday decor. No bright blinking red and green lights on her tree.
“Hannah!” called out her brother.
Everyone turned to greet her and she smiled, offering a wave before her mother hurried over to hug her. Claire looked beautiful in her red holiday dress and heels.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Hannah said, inhaling her perfume as she hugged her tight.
“Look at you,” her mom said. “You even dressed up a little, and left your jeans at home.”
“Just for you. You know I love my jeans.”
Claire smiled. “Well, you look beautiful, although skinny. Are you running again?”
“I am. But I eat plenty, I promise.”
Going The Distance (Four Corners Book 3) Page 13