In the Cradle Lies

by Olivia Newport

  Tucker seemed to be an upstanding guy from an upstanding family running an upstanding company in a cozy town outside St. Louis.

  Nothing hinted at why Tucker would do something so dangerous as skiing Hidden Run—or throw cash around like water from a broken pipe when he came from a tradition of supporting established charitable causes.

  If lingering conversations about personal details led to something more between Tucker and Kristina, they would make a lovely how-we-met story someday. Maybe they would even include “How she saved me from doing something stupid.”

  But why did he want to ski Hidden Run in the first place? Was it the same as wanting to climb Mount Everest despite the legacy of frozen bodies of people who never made it home? Or exploring the South Pole? Or circumnavigating the globe for the first time? Or leaving families behind to go into space with the possibility of never coming home?

  “Am I being too judgmental because I don’t even have the courage to ski?” Jillian said aloud.

  “Did you say something, Silly Jilly?”

  Jillian sank against the back of her chair. “Dad, how long have you been home?”

  “Just got here,” Nolan said. “My late afternoon meeting was canceled, and I decided I couldn’t sit upright in a desk chair any longer.”

  Jillian’s effort to squelch her laughter was unsuccessful. “A bit sore today, are we?”

  “Your Honor, let the record show that I did not fall yesterday.” Nolan rubbed a knee. “I just twisted and turned in ways I haven’t for a long time.”

  “Counselor, I also make note that you were younger then.”

  “Don’t make me send you to your room without supper.”

  “You never did that.”

  “There’s always a first time.”

  Nolan eased into a chair across from Jillian’s desk. “Enough about me. Why were you muttering to yourself?”

  “I talked to Kris today. Tucker is still determined to ski Hidden Run.”

  “I know.”

  “People have done crazier things. Did we really need to put a man on the moon? Kris says he’s well informed and planning carefully.”

  “Even if he could avoid all the trees—which I doubt—he can’t change the underlying topography, Jillian. He doesn’t have a team of scientists planning and training for every eventuality, and even the space shuttle blew up because of an ordinary O-ring.”

  “Do you really think you’ll be able to stop him?”

  “I don’t think we should stop trying to figure out why it’s so important to him. That’s key.”

  “I agree.” Jillian gestured toward her computer. “I was just trying to find out something about his family. I don’t have much to dig for yet, but so far nothing seems off. He’s running a family business, exactly as he claims to be. It’s public record.”

  “He was very attached to his grandfather,” Nolan said. “We swapped a few stories yesterday.”

  “Grandpa Matt,” Jillian said.

  “Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”

  “Kris.”

  “Is she getting somewhere?”

  Jillian scratched the back of her neck. “Well, they’re talking.”

  “I have to say,” Nolan said, “he seems to have a way with families with children that’s unusual for a single young man in the business world. I’ve seen it here in town and out on the slopes.”

  “You think that’s something?”

  “I’d like to find out.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Was it supposed to be this bad?” Veronica stared into Jillian’s eyes as if she knew the answer.

  “Genealogist.” Jillian pointed to her own chest and then waved a finger back and forth. “Not meteorologist.”

  Nia scooted forward on the couch that brought them together at the Canary Cage and picked up the last pecan and cream cheese muffin, baked at Ben’s Bakery, from the low table. “They said one to three inches for the whole day.”

  Kristina scoffed. “We already have at least five, and it’s not even noon and still coming down.”

  “It’s wicked out there,” Veronica said. “We might as well shut down Main Street. I love winter, but from a business standpoint, this is ridiculous.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Jillian sipped her frothy butterscotch caramel latte. “It’ll blow through. Tomorrow will be fine.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But business has already been slow with the after–New Year’s lull,” Veronica said. “Holiday spending is over. Christmas break ski vacations are over. It’s not even the weekend. It’s a lousy Tuesday. When I-70 closes or gets icy, people can’t even get out here for a day trip. If they’re looking at the weather forecast from anywhere on the Front Range, they’re making other plans now.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Nia said. “We already had two cancellations at the Inn, which basically leaves us with one paying guest this entire week.”

  That would be Tucker Kintzler. Jillian eyed Kristina.

  “I only scooped one cone yesterday,” Kris said, “and the person who ate it didn’t even pay for it.”

  “Hey!” Jillian said. “I’m good for it.”

  The others laughed.

  “Seriously, look around,” Veronica said. “The four of us are the only ones in the Cage, other than Clark. Doesn’t that say something?”

  “It says we’re hardy,” Kris said, “and we can have all the coffee and pastries we want.”

  “Well, there you have it.” Nia wiped cream cheese off her chin.

  “It reminds me of being in school on snowy days,” Jillian said. “My mom would want to keep me home because she was just sure the school district was going to decide to close after she went to all the trouble to get me there when there wouldn’t be enough kids to have real lessons anyway. But I always made her take me. I loved those days.”

  “Me too,” Kris said. “There would be three or four kids in a class. Teachers had to get creative. We did the most fun things.”

  “And it was a win for the school district because it counted as an in-session day,” Nia said.

  “But this is not that.” Veronica stuffed her napkin in her empty coffee cup. “When I get back to the store, I’m telling Luke we’re closing up. I’ve got too much to do at home plus planning for the winter party to spend the next seven hours coddling four customers who might stroll through just to prove they’re tough enough for a blizzard and not spend a penny.”

  “What’s the party theme?” Kris asked.

  “Oh no, no.” Veronica wagged a finger. “You know how it works. No early clues.”

  “But how will we know how to dress?” Jillian deadpanned.

  “Anything between a bathing suit and a parka is acceptable attire,” Veronica said. “But my list of things to do is three miles long.”

  “Well, there you have it,” Nia said. “Joelle slid into work today to finish up the weekend’s laundry. I suppose I should send her home.”

  “It’s the merciful thing,” Veronica said.

  “Think about all the people who get snow days,” Jillian said. “My clients don’t care about the weather in Colorado.”

  “They know you work at home.” Nia flicked muffin crumbs at Jillian. “They don’t know you’re slacking off at the coffee shop.”

  The door opened with a blast.

  “Close the door!” the foursome said in unison.

  Tucker obliged and then grinned, stomping his boots. “What a great day!”

  “Colombian with milk coming right up,” Clark said from behind the counter.

  Tucker waved him off. “No time for coffee.”

  Clark rolled his eyes and went back to his magazine.

  “Kristina!” Tucker said. “Let’s go skiing.”

  Kris jumped up. “In the middle of a snowstorm?”

  “It’ll be perfect, I promise.”

  Jillian tugged at Kris’s wrist. “What about visibility?”

  “You’re the one who said it would blow through,” K
ris said.

  “Right. And tomorrow things will be fine—for driving and skiing. It’s a mess out there right now.”

  “My truck can handle it.” Tucker rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “We can swing by your place for your skis, Kris, and find a good steep hill in no time.”

  “Steep?” Jillian echoed.

  “If it’s not steep, what’s the point?” Tucker countered.

  Jillian grimaced.

  “You don’t ski.” Kris pulled her arm from Jillian. “It must be hard for you to understand.”

  Jillian glared. “Why not go tomorrow? See what the accumulation turns out to be and how much it adds to the snowpack. Fresh powder and all that stuff.”

  “Why choose? We can go again tomorrow,” Tucker said. “After all, I’m here to ski. I go every day.”

  “I’m in.” Kris had one arm in her jacket.

  “We won’t go far,” Tucker said to Jillian. “I just want us to feel this storm under our feet while it’s fresh.”

  “It could be dangerous,” Jillian insisted.

  “And you could slip in the shower and crack your skull,” Tucker said, “but I bet you still take showers.”

  “It’s not the same,” Jillian said. Tucker’s charm was wearing off fast.

  “Stop it, you two.” Kris headed for the door. “Catch you all later.”

  “Well, there you have it,” Nia said.

  “Ooh la la.” Veronica batted her eyes at the departing pair. “What have we here? Shall I add a name to my party list?”

  “I need to go back to work.” Jillian stood up. “No snow days for me.”

  Jillian rarely took her small SUV out of the garage for short jaunts over to the Inn to see Nia or down Main Street for the shops, and a little snow didn’t scare her. At the moment, though, she wished she had an extra layer under her perfectly warm jacket. The sky was grayer than an hour ago, and the flakes denser.

  The street corner outside was barely visible. What was Kris thinking?

  “I’ll walk with you to my corner,” Nia said. “This is turning out to be quite a storm.”

  Jillian yanked her knit cap down low, pulled up her hood, fastened it under her chin, and pulled on her gloves as she stepped outside. The temperature had dropped since she left her cozy office.

  “So Kris?” Nia said. “Tucker?”

  Jillian restrained herself from taking a public position on that question. “Did you know he’s planning to ski Hidden Run?”

  “He talks about it every morning at breakfast.” Nia pushed her hands into her pockets and walked more briskly against the frigid air. “He keeps pumping Leo for information about it, and Leo keeps pulling out ski books I didn’t know we had.”

  “Well, you did name your inn after it.”

  “We thought it was a bit of local color, some interesting history. We only chose it because it seemed like of all the lost ski runs of Colorado, it was the closest one to Canyon Mines. Neither of us has tried to see the actual location ourselves, which is what Tucker is after with all his maps and books.”

  “My guess is he knows exactly where it is by now. But he’ll have to hike up to it.”

  “It’s been eighty years since it was in commercial use. Surely the trees have grown over.”

  “One would think.”

  “Have you ever seen it?”

  “Never. My dad has a topographical map where it’s labeled. I imagine he could find it if he needed to, but as far as I know he never has.”

  “It’s called hidden for a reason.”

  “Right. Has Tucker said how long he plans to stay at the Inn?”

  Nia shook her head. “He paid in advance—with cash—when he first checked in. Every couple of days, he leaves more cash at the registration desk and a huge tip for Joelle.”

  “You don’t have conflicting reservations for the room?”

  “Not so far. He’s paying twice as much as the room is worth. I tell him that’s not necessary, but he says the money is cleaner in our hands than his.”

  “What an odd thing to say. What does that mean?”

  “No clue. Here’s my corner.” Nia shivered. “It’s too nasty out to stand and chat. Get home safe, my friend.”

  Jillian slushed the remaining blocks to the blue-gray Victorian with white trim and rusty red accents, let herself in the back door, paused to remove her damp boots, and padded toward her office. Even though she’d just come from the Cage, the frosty walk home had chilled her straight through, and she hit the power button on the coffee machine on her way past. She couldn’t work if she didn’t warm up. Maybe later she could face a round of shoveling if she layered up.

  Her dad’s footsteps came down the back stairs that led to the kitchen.

  “You okay?”

  “Frozen, but sure.” She hit the space bar on her computer to wake it up.

  “Some black coffee will fix that.”

  “Dad, can I fix you a delicious double caramel latte?” Jillian could dish it out as fast as he could. In the kitchen, the coffee machine made promising noises.

  “I shall put on a pot of homemade potato and leek soup for us to enjoy for lunch a little later,” Nolan said. “We can agree on that, can’t we?”

  “Of course.” Jillian never complained when her father cooked. She didn’t even mind if he sang arias from Verdi and Puccini in the process. The sounds of her childhood were comforting—though she maintained a strict rule against his uninhibited musical outbursts in public. He had too strong a tendency to go full throttle. “Really glad you didn’t drive to Denver today, Dad.”

  “Me too. I pulled my topographical map out of the frame today.” Nolan took his soup pot from the lower cabinet and began amassing ingredients on the counter.

  “Did you find Hidden Run?”

  “It’s marked, topographically speaking.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The map shows elevations and a few historic landmarks, such as the names of well-known mines and so on. But it doesn’t include existing roads.”

  “Or hiking trails.”

  “Correct.”

  “So without a rope to pull up like in the 1930s, how would someone get to Hidden Run?”

  “That’s something we’d have to research or figure out.”

  “Like overlaying road maps over the topography.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “There’s got to be an easier way to find out.”

  “If there is, my guess is Tucker is on the trail ahead of Team Tucker.”

  Jillian made her coffee and returned to her office. Nolan got the soup simmering, and the fragrance of potatoes and leek filled the house while they worked, Nolan upstairs and Jillian downstairs. Ninety minutes later, Nolan came down and sliced up some Irish soda bread to go with the soup and called Jillian to the kitchen nook. Outside, inches of white piled up, but inside they were cozy and warm.

  Another two hours of snowy productivity passed before Jillian’s cell phone rang—with a number she recognized but didn’t often receive calls from.

  “Carolyn?”

  “Where’s Kris? I can’t get hold of her.”

  The fright in Carolyn’s voice rattled Jillian. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s not answering her phone. She didn’t say anything to me about closing up for the day, but I suppose it’s the snow.”

  “She went skiing,” Jillian said.

  “In this storm that’s getting worse by the moment?”

  “I don’t think she knew it would get worse when she left. What’s the matter, Carolyn?”

  “I don’t suppose you can come down here? Somebody needs to.”

  “Carolyn, tell me what happened.”

  “The building has taken some damage from the storm.”

  “Oh goodness. Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I was working in the back cleaning my equipment. I thought it might be safer to wait out the storm than try to get home right now, but now this.”

&n
bsp; “My dad’s home today. I’ll grab him, and we’ll get there as soon as we can. Did you call 911?”

  “It’s not that kind of emergency,” Carolyn said. “Besides, I think the power is out up and down the street.”

  “Stay safe. I’ll keep trying to reach Kris.” Jillian ended the call and called up the stairs. “Dad!”

  Inside two minutes they were in Nolan’s truck and creeping along Main Street, which had slicked over.

  “This has turned into an ice storm,” Nolan said.

  “No kidding.” It might have been faster to walk through the thickening snow to the building Kris and Carolyn’s shops shared. Jillian spent the time hitting Kristina’s speed dial number repeatedly, hoping that seeing one incoming call after another would prod her to call Jillian back. In between calls, she sent three text messages and left two voice mails, but she wasn’t any more successful than Carolyn had been at eliciting a response.

  Main Street was deserted. Nolan had no trouble parking directly in front of Digger’s Delight. Inside, Carolyn was moving pails around beneath drips.

  Jillian scowled at the ceiling. “There’s a second story up there. Where’s the water coming from?”

  “I haven’t been up to investigate,” Carolyn said. “Burst pipe? At one point the space up there was living quarters. It’s worse over on Kris’s side. Water everywhere. I shut off the main valve to both stores, just in case.”

  “Good thinking,” Nolan said. “Why is it so cold in here?”

  “The windows in back blew out. I don’t have anything to shutter them with. It’s literally snowing in the kitchen where I make my candy.”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” Nolan said. “Maybe something in the alley. You have lights. I didn’t expect that.”

  “Both the generators kicked in, thank goodness.”

  “I should take you home.”

  “And leave all this mess? I’ll just worry things are getting worse.”