In the Cradle Lies

by Olivia Newport

  Q. Tell us why family is at the heart of your business.

  A. We all make choices that reflect the connections that we ourselves seek. Family is where some of the greatest conundrums can happen, and we rise to face the greatest challenges.

  Q. Your family is well known for religious activity as well as business contributions. Do you have a favorite Bible verse?

  A. John 8:32. “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

  Q. What gives you the greatest satisfaction in your work?

  A. Sometimes in our work, we must step up to a call we never pursued, and the greatest surprise is finding that somehow we were able.

  Matthew Ryder hadn’t wanted to answer these questions. Jillian would bet her professional expertise on it. Both family members and his public relations team must have been scratching their heads when they saw his answers in print. When asked a question about family, he said nothing about his own heritage, nothing especially warm and fuzzy. When asked about his faith, he responded with a verse that left room for great struggle. And it was questionable whether his work gave him any satisfaction at all.

  “I own shoes,” Jillian said aloud. Nia thought she should get a cat. She couldn’t be trusted to take care of a dog, in Nia’s opinion, but a cat was lower maintenance and would give her somebody to talk to instead of just herself.

  The problem with being friends with your former babysitter was that she knew your old habits, like talking aloud to yourself when you thought no one was listening. But she’d learned the habit from her father and thus felt no shame.

  Jillian decided she would walk farther than the coffee machine. It wasn’t a pot, as she was always telling her father. He had to accept that the days of having an ordinary coffeepot in their kitchen were long gone. In the small space off the kitchen, she pulled on her fur-lined ankle boots and her perfectly warm jacket before double-checking her pockets for keys and phone, and locking the door behind her. She wanted to talk to Kristina, and not by text. The walk would be good for her back and good for her curiosity.

  Downtown, the red-lettered GRAND REOPENING sign was visible from down the street, though the dancing cone was gone. Inside Ore the Mountain, Kris was wiping tables while Lindy worked the counter serving a couple of customers.

  “Wow.” Jillian stamped the remains of gray snow off her boots. “You had Lindy come in?”

  “I had to on Saturday.” Kris straightened a chair under a table. “Granted, we sold more hot chocolate than we did ice cream, but all that snow last week made for a big ski weekend. And that silly human cone on the sidewalk was surprisingly effective.”

  “He was back on Saturday?”

  “Yep. I didn’t know until I got here.”

  “Missed you at church yesterday.”

  “Tucker and I went skiing. He wanted to get an early start.”

  “I imagine it was beautiful. The weather was so clear.”

  “Spectacular!” Kris started another table. “Do you want some ice cream? Hot chocolate?”

  “I’m pretty sure I still owe you for the last two indulgences.”

  “Your credit is good with me.”

  “Good to know.” Jillian chose a chair. “Hot chocolate if you have time to sit with me.”

  Kris glanced toward the counter. “I don’t see why not. Be right back.”

  “Don’t forget—”

  “I know. Extra whipped cream.”

  “Lots.”

  Kris returned with two large cups. Jillian inspected hers.

  “How am I supposed to drink this without getting whipped cream on my nose?”

  “Make up your mind.”

  “Fine.” Jillian licked some whipped cream as if it were ice cream. “So how’s Tucker?”

  “Seems great. At least as long as he’s skiing.”

  “Still planning on Hidden Run?” Jillian might as well get a Team Tucker report in between the nuances of a Kris and Tucker report.

  “I stayed away from that yesterday. Just didn’t seem like the day for it.”

  “You’re entitled to some fun.” Or, you might be losing focus.

  Kris chuckled. “I’m tempted to have some fun by buying Tucker a new man purse.”

  “That backpack is pretty sad.” Jillian licked more whipped cream and started to wonder if Kris had filled the whole cup with topping and no chocolate.

  “He always has to know where it is, like a woman and her purse. Worse, actually. Do you know he wears it under his jacket while he skis?”

  Jillian ran her tongue over her top lip to clear whipped cream. “Can’t he just leave it at the B©B or in the truck? He doesn’t keep his wallet in it, does he?”

  “He carries around so much cash that he probably should,” Kris said, “but no. As far as I’ve noticed, the only thing in it is a padded envelope.”

  “Sealed or unsealed?”

  “Sealed. Definitely sealed.”

  “Strange.”

  “That’s what I think. But it’s the one thing I’ve ever seen make him anxious—when he thought he’d left it at the restaurant in Genesee last week. He almost turned around and went back when we were halfway home, and then I found it stuffed between the seats.”

  “That’s when you got a look at what’s in it?”

  “More of a solid feel,” Kris said. “Tucker took possession, and we didn’t talk about it again.”

  “So what do you think is in it? Ski maps? Research on Hidden Run?”

  “Why would that be sealed?”

  “Legal documents for work?” Jillian was beginning to be hopeful there was hot chocolate under the whipped cream after all. She could smell a hint of it.

  “Maybe. Something important he just doesn’t want to do?”

  “Perhaps the family business doesn’t run itself as smoothly as he would have us believe.”

  “That’s possible, I guess,” Kris said. “We haven’t talked all that much about the business.”

  “What do you talk about?”

  “You know. Stuff.”

  “Kristina. We’ve been friends a long time.”

  “We ski, okay? We go to dinner. He’s easy to relax with. And he’s been incredible with fixing up this place after the storm last week. It’s been nice to have someone to lean on.”

  “You deserve to have someone, Kris.”

  “Thanks, Jills. I promise I haven’t forgotten about Team Tucker. I know I’m supposed to be trying to talk some sense into him. If anything, I have even more reason not to want him to get hurt.”

  “Has he ever talked about a family friend named Jackson?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “What about his great-grandfather, Judd?”

  “Definitely not. I don’t think his Grandpa Matt liked his father much.”

  “That’s what my dad says. No family scrapbook?”

  “Hardly something he’d bring on a ski trip.”

  Jillian shrugged. “Could be in the backpack.”

  Kris’s phone pinged with a text, and she took it from a pocket. “It’s Tucker. The backcountry skis are in at Leif’s.”

  “That makes Hidden Run closer.”

  Kris nodded. “He wants me to meet him at Catch Air right now.”

  “Are you going?”

  Kris looked around. “Lindy can handle things here. It’s only a couple of blocks away. Come with me.”

  “I might want to clock him for considering this.”

  “Me too. But if we go, we can make sure Leif knows Tucker has in mind to ski Hidden Run on these skis.”

  “True. But will he be for or against it?”

  “At least he’ll make sure Tucker’s prepared.” Kris stood. “Give up on that cup of whipped cream.”

  “Did you put any hot chocolate in this at all?”

  “Two full ounces.”

  It was a twelve-ounce cup. “You are a rotten friend.”

  “I do my best.”

  They traipsed over to Catch Air and found Tucker st
roking the new skis on the long counter—two sets.

  “Here you go,” Tucker said. “Mine were actually here a few days ago. I waited for yours.”

  “Mine?” Kris said.

  “Well, I don’t have four legs,” Tucker said.

  “I never said I wanted backcountry skis.”

  Kris’s words were out of sync with her movements. She walked to the counter and lifted a ski. She wasn’t as tall as Tucker, and the second set of skis was proportionally shorter.

  “They’re so light.” Kris was enchanted. “Such narrow waists.”

  Tucker leaned over and ran a finger over the notches at one end. “I got the skins too, so you’ll be all set for climbing in the backcountry.”

  Like on Hidden Run.

  “I’ve never done any backcountry skiing, Tucker.” Kris laid one ski across both hands to feel its weight.

  “You’ll love it.”

  “How much have you done?”

  “We’ll learn together.”

  Kris tilted her head upward at Tucker. “So you’re not actually a backcountry skier?”

  “It’s just the next progression. We’re ready.”

  “It could be dangerous.”

  Say you won’t do it. Say you can’t accept the expensive skis. Jillian moved closer to the counter, hoping her presence might bring Kris nearer to reality.

  “It’s such a generous gift, Tucker,” Kris said, “after you’ve done so much for me already.”

  “I didn’t pick out the bindings,” he said. “I thought you should do that.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Kris,” Jillian said.

  “Yes?” Kris reluctantly shifted her gaze toward Jillian.

  Jillian smiled vaguely and scratched her head.

  Kris put the ski down on the counter. “This is too much, Tucker. I can’t accept it, and I don’t think I’m ready for a rugged backcountry environment.”

  “Of course you are. Tell her, Leif.”

  “You could learn,” Leif said. “There are places that aren’t so scary.”

  “No, no, no.” Tucker wagged a finger. “We’re going for the good stuff. Hidden Run.”

  There it was.

  “I’m definitely not ready for that,” Kris said. “It’s a legend—a lost legend. I’ve never even seen it.”

  Thank goodness.

  “What do you think, Leif?” Tucker said. “Kris is one of the best. She could do it, couldn’t she?”

  “I wouldn’t,” Leif said.

  Thank you, Leif.

  “But that’s just me.”

  What?

  “Exactly,” Tucker said.

  “But if someone is bound and determined,” Leif said, “these would be the right skis. And of course you want to be up on your mountaineering and avalanche awareness skills for safety.”

  “But you wouldn’t do it,” Jillian said, “and you’re an excellent skier. The best, right?”

  Tucker scowled at Jillian.

  “Nah, personally I wouldn’t,” Leif said. “Too many trees to get good speed. But it’s an individual choice.”

  “And individually I’m choosing to do it,” Tucker said. “With good speed, I assure you. And I’d like Kris to come with me. Please fit her for the best bindings you recommend that she feels comfortable with.”

  “Tucker,” Kris said, “that’s incredibly generous—you’re incredibly generous. But Hidden Run? We could both get hurt.”

  “I wouldn’t let that happen to you.”

  “And I don’t want it to happen to you.”

  “Just take the skis, and we’ll go from there a step at a time.”

  “She already said she doesn’t want to do it,” Jillian said.

  “That’s not exactly what she said.” Tucker glowered. “You don’t even ski, so you’re hardly qualified to have an opinion on the question of Hidden Run.”

  Heat rose through Jillian’s face. Confusion flashed across Kris’s eyes.

  Leif picked up the shorter set of skis. “Shall I just hold on to this pair while you think about it? I can always send them back for full credit as long as we don’t put bindings on.”

  “No,” Tucker said, “we’re not returning them. We waited a long time for them to come. The skis are a gift from me to Kris, and they’re useless without bindings that fit her.”

  Kris looked from Leif to Tucker. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to put bindings on them.”

  Jillian couldn’t believe what she heard. Kris couldn’t seriously be considering skiing Hidden Run.

  “You don’t have to rush to a decision,” Jillian said. “The skis will be here.”

  “It’s my gift to Kris, and she can decide.” Tucker glared at Jillian. “Might as well get them ready and take them home, because they’re not going back.”

  “Leif,” Jillian said, “what exactly is involved in avalanche awareness skills? Do you offer a class?”

  “Let it go, Jillian.” Tucker pulled cash out of his wallet to pay for the bindings. “There must be YouTube videos. It’s probably not that much of a risk around here anyway. Hidden Run is not even that far out of town, and a lot of the ski resorts are higher elevation.”

  Kris was not kidding when she’d said he was doing his homework.

  “Let’s get down to business on the bindings,” Tucker said.

  Jillian slipped out of the shop. Kris didn’t need her, Tucker didn’t want her, and she had homework of her own to finish up. On her way back to the house, she found in her phone the number for a contact where she’d sent an email and called it. Maybe she could speed up the process of a response.

  “Yes,” said the St. Louis librarian on the other end. “I found the old microfiche for the article you requested and was just about to send you a scan. On the other matter, I think it will be more fruitful to refer your question to a local source I think can be more helpful. But it might take persuading.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Nolan adjusted the shades on his home office windows. As much as he hated to do it, he had to shut out some of the glare. A sunny day mixed with last week’s snow still freshly adorning the mountainside equaled distracting brilliance streaming through the windows and bouncing off his laptop screen and reading glasses. He settled into a comfortable chair with a mediation file to try to find the heart of the story. What had alienated this family to the degree that a disagreement became legal strife? If he could find that answer, he could bring tempers down and the needful emotions forward to find a solution during next week’s face-to-face meeting.

  His cell phone jangled.

  “Hey, Tucker.”

  “Beautiful day to ski!”

  “Sorry, nose to the grindstone for me.”

  “All day?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  “I might run out for a quick ski,” Tucker said, “but I was hoping you could meet me later at the Heritage Society.”

  “Oh?”

  “Marilyn still needs help, right?”

  “I’m sure.” Nolan tapped his pen against his yellow legal pad. “If I hustle for a while, I could probably meet you there midafternoon.”

  “Good. I don’t think she thought I was serious when I said I wanted a list of what she needs. She’ll believe you if you vouch for me.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Three o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Nolan wasn’t the only one having a nose-to-the-grindstone day. He hardly heard movement from Jillian’s office below his all day. Occasionally the back stairwell, just outside her office off the kitchen, carried the clatter of her printer as it spat out a page or her indistinct voice on the phone for a couple of minutes. More often he heard the spatter and hiss of her coffee contraptions. At lunchtime he offered to make her something to eat, but she said she wasn’t hungry. Coffee yes, but not food. She was like her mother in that way. He made her a sandwich anyway and set it on her desk.

  At a quarter to three, Nolan marked where he would want to pic
k up in his own work when he returned and popped into Jillian’s office. He was glad to see she’d eaten the sandwich and picked up the plate.

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll bring you an apple or something tomorrow.”

  “I’ll hold you to it,” he said. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Where?” She glanced at him and then back at her monitor.

  “Meeting Tucker at the Heritage Society.”

  Now she turned around. “Well, that’s interesting.”

  “We did leave things rather a mess the other day, and I doubt Marilyn has much help.”

  “True.”

  “He also wants to make a donation.”

  “Also interesting. Try to bring me back some information.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “And I’m glad you’re doing something where I don’t have to worry that Tucker is going to break my father.”

  Nolan laughed.

  “Don’t laugh, Dad. I don’t want him to break Kris either—her body or her heart. He bought her those ridiculous skis.”

  “Kris has a good head on her shoulders.”

  “I always thought so. But Tucker does something to her. Now they both have the right skis for Hidden Run.”

  “Do you want to come along?”

  Jillian sank back in her desk chair. “After bungling things yesterday, I’m sure I’m a persona non grata at the moment. Biscuits to a bear. Isn’t that one of your expressions? Waste of time.”

  “I can recommend a mediator, if it comes to that.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “What about Matthew’s friend Jackson?”

  “Still trying to track him down. I’ll keep at it though.”

  When Nolan reached the Heritage Society, Tucker was waiting outside.