Hidden Falls

by Newport, Olivia

  Brooke lunged too late.

  The little girl pulled her fist out of the pod, spread her fingers, and wiped them with glee across her own cheek. If she had stopped there, it might have been cute, but the next landing place for her fingertips was the wobbly card table where Brooke had meticulously laid out her supplies. In one swoop of a toddler arm, purple streaked the table and four other open tubs tumbled to the ground. Two of them landed upside down. When Brooke squatted to pick them up, the contents slithered out into the grass. The little girl giggled and slapped her hands against Jack’s knees. He pushed her hands away, but not before she transferred paint to his palms.

  “Kimmie!” Bruce Gallagher removed his daughter—now squalling—from the scene of the crime, leaving Jack’s daughter with her mouth hanging open and random paint splotches along the fleshy sides of her hands.

  “What just happened?” Brooke stared at the tubs in her hands and the two at her feet.

  Jack pulled several wipes out of a plastic dispenser and used them to salvage the pods on the ground before another child stepped in them. He set them on the table and squatted to scoop up paint from the grass, a nearly impossible task. With two fresh wipes, he took his daughter’s hands and wrapped them, pulling streaks of purple off her skin. A set of four siblings were next in line to have their faces painted. None of them looked to be older than seven. All of them creased the skin over their noses. Jack had never seen such identical consternation. When he looked at their mother, he saw where they’d learned it.

  “Just give us a moment.” Jack dabbed at his jeans, uncertain whether trying to wipe the paint out of the denim would just make things worse.

  “What am I going to do now, Dad?” Brooke tossed a wipe in the small trash can under the table and pulled another from the container.

  “We’ll just clean things up and keep going.” Jack’s strategy was not so different from practicing law. When he worked in Memphis, messes happened every day. It was his job to clean them up—until the mess got so big that the only way to please the client was for someone to be fired.

  That someone was Jack.

  He recognized the dismay in his daughter’s face because he felt it every day. Careful planning and systematic arranging were not supposed to end up splattered on the ground waiting for someone to step in the mess and make it worse.

  Jack picked up one of the towels Brooke had been using to protect children’s clothing from the paints and reached for her hands to dry them.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said into her ear. “We still have a few good colors. Take some deep breaths.”

  Brooke squeezed her eyes shut but nodded.

  Jack picked up the stool children had been sitting on and repositioned it out of the path of the spilled paint before pulling the table over as well. Then he took a clean towel from the stack and picked up a large clip. With a smile, he turned toward the four children with pinched faces. “Who’s next?”

  The littlest one raced forward and came to an abrupt halt in front of Brooke.

  “Dad, maybe you should hold him,” she said.

  “You got it.” Jack sat on the stool and lifted the squirmy boy to his lap. He held the child’s hands out of the way while Brooke fastened a towel around his shoulders.

  He wished he could remember what it felt like to hold Brooke like this, or Eva or Colin. When was the last time Brooke sat in his lap? If Jack had known it wouldn’t happen again, maybe he would have paid more attention to the moment. Instead, he inhaled the shampoo scent of somebody else’s youngest child.

  “A puppy!” One of the other siblings fell to her knees.

  The boy in Jack’s lap tried to turn his head. Brooke had a firm grip on his chin, though. Jack looked into her focused eyes and admired her ability to resist the urge she must have felt to look at her own dog.

  Gianna stood beside him with Roxie’s leash wrapped several times around her hand to keep the dog near.

  “Unless you came for paw painting,” Jack said, “don’t let the dog under the table.”

  Gianna leaned to one side to inspect the ground. “Looks like you’ve had some excitement.”

  Brooke finished a simple red balloon on the little boy’s cheek and set her brush down long enough to snuggle Roxie.

  “Is that your dog?” one of the kids asked.

  Brooke nodded. “Would you like to pet her?”

  The face painting line dismantled in favor of puppy adoration. Brooke took the leash from her mother.

  Gianna turned to Jack. “How’s she doing?”

  “Very well, actually. She’s pretty good drawing the animals.”

  “Considering how much she doodles, I’m glad to see the skill put to good use.”

  “We should get her some lessons.”

  “I’m sure she’d like that.” Gianna ran her hands through her loose hair. “Thank you, Jack.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Brooke really wanted you to do this, and here you are. I just want you to know I appreciate the effort you’re making. And not just with Brooke. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Other than the flash with the two-year-old in the paint, it had been a nice morning. And Jack hadn’t seen that look in Gianna’s eyes in a long time.

  “Would you be willing to keep the dog for a few minutes?”

  Jack glanced at the puppy in the middle of the cluster of children. Brooke would probably like to have the dog around, and Jack would enjoy the way Roxie lit up his daughter’s face.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “I won’t be long,” Gianna said. “I’m only going over to the silent auction.”

  How much would this cost him? he wondered.

  “I’ll keep the bidding reasonable.” Gianna seemed to read his mind. “There’s a gorgeous red silk dress that has to be thirty or forty years old, but I couldn’t get a good look while I was watching the dog.”

  Jack supposed Gianna wanted to buy an old dress to go with her old house. When he caught himself wondering if she planned to remodel the dress beyond recognition as she had the house, he put his hands in his pockets and did his best to banish the thought before it fully formed. It would only spoil the moment between them.

  “The money is for a good cause,” he said.

  “I promise not to get into a bidding war.”

  Gianna sauntered away, and he watched her turn her head a few times at the displays she passed, looking but not deviating from her mission. Sunlight tugged at the natural reddish highlights in her brown hair.

  Jack turned to the growing huddle of children. “Brooke, let me take Roxie. You can paint a few faces.”

  Brooke released the leash and her puppy into his care, and for a while Jack stood near her stool watching her interactions with the kids, some of them not much younger than she was. She had prepared a chart of the choices she could paint—a puppy, a kitty, a giraffe, a bird, one balloon, three balloons, a rainbow, a caboose. Jack listened to her negotiate with a boy who came with his own idea and decided she was managing the endeavor well. The puppy, on the other hand, was straining at the leash amid the activity of the fair.

  Jack caught Brooke’s eye as she fastened a towel around another child. “I’m going to walk with Roxie.”

  She nodded.

  He took the dog through a small aisle between booths and out to the sidewalk that ran along one side of the lawn. People were coming and going at a steady pace. Jack was glad for a few minutes to think. He’d found something in those old files still spread around his office floor, and unquestionably Nicole and Ethan would be interested. Did Jack want them to know? That was a separate question.

  The sidewalk ended, and Jack let the dog choose a route back into the main fair area, though he shortened the leash. From here Jack could see Ethan with his own line of children, and Nicole with her foot propped up and her head bent over something in her lap. Jack was too far away to know what she might be looking at. At one point, Ethan put a hand on Nicole’s shoulder
and leaned in to talk to her. She raised her face and nodded. Ethan put his hands in his pocket and began to zigzag between fairgoers toward the side of the building.

  Jack tugged the leash, redirecting Roxie toward a path that would intercept Ethan’s. Jack stepped ahead of the puppy to set a brisker, more focused pace. When he caught Ethan’s eye, he waved and made known his intention to catch up with him.

  “We should talk,” Jack said. “I found something more in the files.”

  Ethan looked over his shoulder at Nicole. “I was just getting us something cold to drink. Can you walk back with me? I’m sure Nicole will be interested.”

  Roxie sniffed Ethan’s feet. They moved together toward a refreshment stand. Roxie got distracted by fallen bits of food, and Jack stooped to pick her up in order to keep pace with Ethan.

  Ethan handed a couple of dollars to Gavin Owens. “Two lemonades, please.”

  “It will be up to you what you want to tell Nicole, of course.” Roxie settled in Jack’s arms. “But this really concerns you.”

  “You found something in your files about me?”

  “Possibly.” Jack didn’t have it all worked out yet.

  Brooke swooped in and took the dog from Jack’s arms. He hadn’t seen her coming from behind.

  “Come on, Dad,” she said. “A lady asked if it was true that my father was a lawyer. She’s waiting to talk to you.”

  Ethan snapped lids on the two paper cups Gavin set in front of him. “You’re busy, I’m busy. Let’s talk about this after the fair.”

  11:48 a.m.

  Though she felt slightly mean, Dani got ready to laugh when Eva put her hand on the ice chest lid. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I told you, I want to help.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Eva lifted the lid and recoiled. “Eww. You didn’t tell me … yuck.”

  “Haven’t you ever seen a fish before?” Dani slid both hands into the ice and lifted out a trout.

  “Not with the … well, you know, this is the whole fish. I didn’t expect it to stare at me. It doesn’t look like that when my mom buys it.”

  “I take it your dad never takes you fishing.”

  “My dad?” Eva laughed. “He doesn’t even eat fish unless my mom makes him.”

  Dani laid the fish on the small table at the side of the charcoal grill she had been heating for the last half hour and peeked at the coals. “The next one has no head.”

  “Yeah, I think maybe you should get that yourself.” Eva grimaced and took another step away from the cooler. “Is this going to be some kind of step-by-step fish show?”

  “Something like that.” Dani pulled the next fish out, minus the head and tail. The next one was filleted open, ready for the grill. Eva’s reaction confirmed Dani’s suspicion that some of the people stopping by for her demonstration of grilling fresh fish could use a reminder of where fish came from. Dani had caught these three specimens about four hours earlier in Whisper Lake, fishing from a borrowed rowboat. When she said fresh fish, she meant fresh fish.

  “I want to help,” Eva said, “but touching fish skin?”

  Dani rolled her eyes. Did Eva think fish came from cosmic packaging plants that removed all potentially bothersome parts before making overnight delivery to supermarkets?

  “Forget the hiking,” she said. “Next weekend you and I are going fishing.”

  “Isn’t there something else I could do right now to be useful?” Eva scrunched up her face.

  Dani pointed to two sacks. “Set out paper plates. Forks and napkins, too.”

  “I can do that.”

  Dani opened the grill and redistributed the graying coals. She was well aware that most of her observers today would go home to gas grills on their decks in the firm conviction that gas was no different than charcoal when it came to outdoor cooking. Dani didn’t buy it. A little patience and well-timed attention made an enormous difference.

  Her presentation was scheduled to begin in a few minutes. She wouldn’t wait until she had a crowd. Whoever made the effort to arrive at the posted time, or to wander in during the middle, deserved to take the samples that would come off the grill.

  A moment later, her cousin’s eyes smiled at her across the grill.

  “Hey, Cooper.”

  “What time shall I be back for lunch?”

  “I’d say about eighteen and a half minutes.”

  “Perfect. I expect to be hungry in nineteen.”

  “You could eat in seven and be hungry again in nineteen.” Dani arranged her sprigs of rosemary and thyme.

  “Enough with the banter.” Cooper folded his arms across his chest. “I’m worried about Liam.”

  “Am I my cousin’s keeper?” Dani avoided Cooper’s eyes. “He’s your brother.”

  “Has he talked to you?”

  “Have we exchanged conversation?” Dani sliced two lemons. “Sure. We do that from time to time. You should try it.”

  “Dani, I’m serious.” Cooper pointed across the lawn with a tilt of his head. “Liam looks awful.”

  Dani didn’t have to look up to know that statement was true. “Jessica dumped him.”

  “But she’s at the tent with him. She seems to be doing all the work.”

  That didn’t surprise Dani. She cut a slit lengthwise through the belly of the whole fish and prepared to stuff it with herbs.

  “I saw Liam a couple of times this week,” Dani said, “and things aren’t going well for him in general. But that’s as much as I’m going to say.”

  If Cooper wanted to know what was going on in his brother’s life, he would have to ask. Dani didn’t like being in the middle of things, and Cooper knew that.

  Eva brought back an empty sack. “What else should I do?”

  “Come here,” Dani said. “You’re going to season a fish.”

  “Ick.”

  “Get over that. It’s just a little oil with sea salt and pepper.” Dani set out the fillet.

  With Eva’s presence, Cooper stopped asking questions.

  “I’ll be back in ten minutes and twenty-three seconds,” he said.

  “I’m serving samples, not lunch,” Dani said.

  Cooper should go talk to Liam. As fragile as he was, Dani suspected Liam would crack. He’d tell his brother everything, and Dani wouldn’t have to be in the middle of anything.

  Eva held a bottle of olive oil. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Dani handed Eva a small brush. “Just put oil on the fish, skin side, too.”

  The cooler contained several other fish that Dani caught the last time she was on the lake with Quinn. More accurately, Quinn had caught them, but he insisted Dani take them home to her freezer. That was when the idea of this grilling demonstration arose. If anyone was interested in stuffing a fish, rather than only watching Dani do it, she could accommodate them.

  Eva gingerly brushed oil on the fleshy side of the fillet. Dani waited for the moment when Eva would need to turn it over. She could have prodded Eva to stuff the whole trout with a fish eye staring up at her, but Dani was not completely without pity.

  “Use the spatula,” Dani said.

  Eva rummaged in the bag of supplies and came up with the utensil. Dani checked the coals again. They were very close to ready. Four people had found seats around two rectangular folding tables.

  Sylvia approached.

  “How’s the shop?” Dani asked.

  “I just came from there. Business is brisk.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Lizzie has everything in hand for the moment.” Sylvia examined the rosemary sprigs spilling out of the trout Dani was preparing.

  Dani glanced over at Cooper helping a small child sit on a bicycle.

  “Has Liam talked to you?” Dani asked.

  “Not since that day he came into the store with the photo.”

  Dani moved away from where Eva was still oiling the fish. The girl didn’t need to hear this. “I know Jack wanted to help. Ha
s he come up with anything on that address?”

  “Not that he’s told me.” Sylvia shielded her eyes to look around the lawn.

  Dani puffed her cheeks to keep from sighing. Sylvia didn’t know Liam had asked Dani to track down the Santorelli address. Neither did Jack. But with Eva Parker standing five feet away, Dani held her tongue. Why had Liam bothered her about the address if he was going to keep the results of her search to himself? Surely Sylvia wasn’t really depending on Jack Parker to solve that particular mystery.

  Hidden Falls pulsed with mystery these days. Where did Quinn go? Even Dani, who at first figured he just needed some space, wondered where he was now. What was in St. Louis? Who was Santorelli?

  Dani wished she had resisted Liam’s urging to find out what kind of business the Santorelli name represented. She also wished she had resisted Nicole’s urging to look at Quinn’s bank account.

  She was going to cook some fish and perhaps persuade a few people to try it at home. Then Dani could say she’d kept her promise to Quinn to work at the fair. After that, she would focus on replacing her destroyed boat and finding the guy who wrecked it. Maybe she could scrape up enough money to buy one that didn’t need a lot of work. It would be nice to have a boat to take Quinn out in once he got back.

  “I’m going to check on things at the auction,” Sylvia said. “Then I think I need to talk to some people.”

  Yep, you do, Dani thought as Sylvia turned and walked toward the auction tables.

  “I really do want to learn to do this. How do you know when the coals are ready?” Eva lifted the grill’s lid, the brush in her hand still drenched in oil.

  “Be careful—” Dani’s words were too late.

  Oil dripped onto the hot coals and flame blasted up. In her fright, Eva’s fingers opened. Simultaneously she let go of the lid and the brush. One tumbled to the ground and the other fell straight into the grill. People gathered for the demonstration now jumped from their seats and backed away. Dani yanked Eva away from the rising fire.

  “I’m so stupid!” Eva wailed.

  Dani had no time to comfort Eva—and she wouldn’t have known how. Flare-ups happened during grilling when fat naturally dripped, but Dani wondered just how much oil Eva had been putting on that fillet. She scrambled to grab the bouncing grill lid and circled to the back of the grill to replace the lid and smother the flames. In the commotion, the fillet had been dumped in the dirt.