“Fancy running into you here,” Hollister drawled when they got closer.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “It’s hardly a surprise when we both live a few hundred yards away.” She pointed to the camera hanging from a strap around his neck. “I see you’re planning to take some pictures.”
He shrugged. “I’m looking for the dogwood you mentioned. You made it sound interesting.”
“It’s late in the season for dogwood. You won’t find any at this elevation.”
“Do you know where some might still be blooming?”
“Maybe. I’ll mark likely places on a map and put it under your door. Oh, by the way, when I was cleaning the master bedroom today I found the doors open to the private deck. You need to be careful, or animals will get in and make a mess.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Enjoy the rest of your walk.”
Brendan was tempted to add a stronger warning, but doubted his interference would be appreciated. One of the things he admired about Hannah was her independence, though it didn’t mean he wouldn’t like to take care of her now and then.
* * *
JAKE WATCHED HANNAH and her son and lawyer boyfriend disappear around a clump of silvery aspen. Then, dragging his thoughts away from the subtle swing of his landlady’s hips, he took a few photos of the lake and forest, only to delete them. They were lousy, but he assured himself that it didn’t mean anything—he’d taken his share of bad pictures over the years. Every photographer did.
A little inspiration would help, but inspiration was in short supply at the moment.
Still, a thought kept bouncing around in his brain about how to make his book work. Hannah’s passionate love for the Cascades might be an angle he could exploit. She had the summer off from teaching, so maybe he could hire her to show him her favorite places and see what happened. It was an arrangement that would benefit them both—she could probably use the money, and he needed to prove he hadn’t lost his edge.
Jake switched off the camera and walked the short distance back to Huckleberry Lodge. Brendan Townsend’s Lexus was still outside the house, along with a familiar-looking SUV. He made a face. The lodge might be several miles out of town, but Hannah had her share of visitors, nonetheless.
“Mr. Hollister?” called someone from Silver Cottage’s deck.
He looked up and saw an attractive brunette waving at him. “Yes?”
“I wanted to speak to—”
“Mama, I want up,” a childish voice interrupted.
“Not right now, darling.” The woman looked back at Jake as the youngster jumped impatiently. “Maybe I should come down there.” She emerged from Hannah’s house a minute later. “Hi, I’m Gwen Westfield. My husband is the head of emergency services in Mahalaton Lake.”
“Hello.” Jake nodded warily and shook her hand.
“I’m working on a fund-raising booth for the Christmas in August street fair,” she said. “I wondered if you’d consider taking portraits to help the town raise money for a new fire truck. We’d get photographic paper, and I have a printer and laptop, so you could print and sign the photos right there. All you’d have to do is bring your camera, and you could choose the times you wanted to work.”
He stared.
Street fair? Portraits? He rarely took pictures with people in them, much less portraits. It might have been all right to do something like that for charity if he hadn’t gotten hurt, but he’d just look desperate now. And if word got out that he was doing that kind of work, he could kiss any kind of adventure-based project goodbye. Nobody would ever take him seriously again—as much as he’d like to ignore the critics, he did care about his artistic reputation.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” he said. “But I’d be happy to make a donation toward the truck.”
She looked resigned. “Hannah didn’t think you’d be interested, but I had to ask.”
“I’ll write you a check right now,” Jake said.
“That’s all right. You can do that at the festival.” Gwen waved her hand. “I don’t have my receipt book with me.”
“Take it now,” Hannah advised her friend, coming down the steps holding the hands of two small boys identical in appearance, right down to their skinned knees and freckled noses. “In case Jake doesn’t go to the festival.”
Jake didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed. Gwen Westfield had assumed he wouldn’t miss the town celebration while Hannah had probably guessed he wasn’t likely to attend.
“Oh.” Gwen blinked. “In that case, make it out to the MLFD Truck Fund.”
He went inside the lodge and returned with the check. “Here you are.”
Gwen’s eyes widened as she looked at it. “Five thousand dollars? That’s extremely generous.”
“It’s a good cause.” Yet Jake knew he wasn’t being generous; he was just avoiding an awkward situation. Between his trust fund and private income, he didn’t have to worry about money, and it smoothed over situations like this.
“I’ll give your receipt to Hannah the next time I see her, and she can get it to you.”
“Whatever’s convenient.”
As she bundled her kids into the SUV, Brendan came out and kissed Hannah on the cheek. “Danny says his stomach hurts, so I’d better go. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
Hannah shot a harried glance at Jake before disappearing inside Silver Cottage. A minute later the lawyer’s Lexus was gone and a sense of peace returned to the large clearing around the two buildings.
Jake smiled. It had turned out to be a fairly good day—his leg didn’t hurt as much, and he finally had a plan for attacking his project on the Cascades. But since Danny wasn’t feeling well, he’d speak with Hannah another time about showing him around her favorite spots in the mountains.
As for Aaron and Matt’s hopes to visit Mahalaton Lake later in the summer...it wouldn’t have concerned Jake if it was just his brothers, but their wives and children?
It was just too much to take.
* * *
INSIDE THE HOUSE Hannah found Danny watching TV.
“I thought your tummy hurt.”
“It’s better now,” he told her with an innocent expression on his face.
She wondered if he’d faked illness to get rid of Brendan, but he’d behaved most of the evening, so maybe it was better not to scold him. Besides, there was a stomach bug going around Mahalaton Lake.
A short time later Hannah was glad she hadn’t said anything—one minute Danny was fine, the next he was violently ill. The worst seemed to be over after a couple of hours and he fell into an exhausted sleep around eleven.
Badger watched worriedly as Hannah cleaned up and put the soiled sheets and towels into the washing machine. She came back and checked Danny’s forehead again.
“It’s okay, boy,” she assured the dog, and he lay on the floor, seeming to understand he shouldn’t be on the bed.
Only then did Hannah start thinking about what needed to be done the next day. She was supposed to set up for the ice cream social, make huckleberry ice cream and bake several batches of her peanut-butter chocolate-chip cookies.
Reluctantly, she fetched the phone and called her parents. They were always eager to help out, though she didn’t like asking.
“Hannah, what’s wrong? You’re usually in bed by now,” her mother asked when she answered. Unlike her daughter, Carrie was a night person, staying up until all hours of the morning while still managing to get up early, too.
“Danny has the stomach bug that’s going around.”
“Oh, dear. How is he doing?”
“Better for the moment, but I’m trying to figure out what to do about tomorrow. I’m supposed to be at Memorial Hall at 9:00 a.m. Is there any way that Dad could go in my place and help
set up for the ice cream social? Everybody should have a list of what needs to be done.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to. What else can we do?”
Hannah recalled the grocery list she’d gotten from Jake earlier in the afternoon, but he’d have to wait. “Nothing. Danny will probably stay in bed sleeping or watching TV, so it’ll be easy enough to take care of my baking, and I can do the shopping another day.”
“Nonsense. I’ll come over and watch him while you run to the store.”
“I don’t want to expose you to his germs.”
“Don’t worry about that. Besides, we both had it last week.”
Hannah straightened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded indignantly. She talked to her parents almost every day, and they’d said nothing about being sick.
Carrie laughed. “Because you worry too much. Trust me, Danny will be much better by tomorrow evening. But he probably won’t be well enough to go on Sunday, so I’ll watch him then, as well.”
“You don’t want to miss the ice cream social.”
“I’d rather spend time with my grandson. I’ll leave my contributions at Memorial Hall before coming out there.”
“You won’t enjoy being with Danny if he’s missing the social,” Hannah said drily. “He’ll be a pain.”
“I’ll manage. Now get some rest yourself, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“All right.” Hannah put the phone down and checked on her son again. He wasn’t seriously ill, but it was times like this that she was worried about living out of Mahalaton Lake. Yet she was still only a few minutes away from emergency services, so there wasn’t any real need for concern.
Danny stirred restlessly and she brushed his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked at her fretfully. “Mommy, don’t turn the light off, a lion might jump on me.”
Damn Jake, and damn his stories. Even so, Hannah couldn’t deny they were exciting. She’d found herself listening a few times, lured by the exotic flavor of distant lands. Until Jake had become part of her life, she had forgotten how much fun it could be to travel, although the places she’d visited with her great-aunt and uncle bore little relationship to the remote corners of the world that he favored. And unlike Jake, she wanted a place to call home.
“I’ll leave the light on, but there aren’t any lions here in Mahalaton Lake. Have you been having bad dreams?”
“Uh-huh, but don’t tell Jake. He never gets scared.”
“Honey, I’m sure Jake gets scared, too.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Danny insisted stubbornly. “And I wanna have adventures just like him.”
Hannah tensed. She didn’t think Jake was brave; she thought he was foolhardy. Between his stories and his press coverage, she’d gotten a clear picture of a man who was lucky he hadn’t died years ago. She didn’t want to lose her son, either to constant travel or some reckless act that killed him.
“There are all sorts of adventures,” she said carefully. “You’ll figure out what kinds are important to you when you’re older.”
“I like his kind.” Danny stuck his lip out and rubbed his tummy. “But I don’t like being sick.”
“I know. Close your eyes and try to sleep. It’ll be better soon.”
“Okay.”
She sat in the rocking chair by the bed and put her head back, thinking about the people Danny had exposed to his germs earlier that day. Gwen and her twin boys, Brendan, Barbi...Jake Hollister. Barbi had already been sick with the bug, but none of the others had as far as Hannah knew. And Jake was probably even more susceptible because he was still recovering from his injuries. However much he got on her nerves, she’d feel responsible if he caught anything.
Hannah let out a sigh. If she’d thought her tenant was a challenge before, wait until he was heaving in the bathroom because of her son.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JAKE GOT UP late on Saturday morning, having slept through the night for the first time in more than a week. Untroubled rest was rare these days. He’d often wake up around midnight and stay awake for hours, unable to stop thinking.
The possibility of being killed in a dangerous location was something he’d accepted long ago, but he hadn’t really thought about getting injured in a way that might change his life. And he also hadn’t thought about anyone else getting hurt, either. Now he’d nearly gotten Toby killed, and Gordon had died. It didn’t matter that it was from a heart attack; the old bush pilot hadn’t been near medical help when it was needed.
In a somber mood, Jake wandered into the kitchen and ate a slice of pizza from the box in the fridge, then stepped into the sunroom.
He looked over at Silver Cottage to see if anyone was stirring and saw Hannah on the deck, doing her yoga. Then he blinked and looked closer. Not Hannah, but someone who looked a good deal like her. The woman was older, but just as slim and shapely, with the same rich chestnut hair. An unaccustomed curiosity hit him.
Jake opened a window and leaned out. “Hi, I’m Jake Hollister.”
The woman pressed her hands together before looking up. “Hello. I’m Carrie Nolan, Hannah’s mother.”
“Is she there?”
Carrie gracefully unfolded from the lotus position and stood. “Sorry, she’s out shopping. Danny has a stomach bug, so I came over to stay with him. I hope you don’t get it yourself—Hannah is concerned because he was there while she was cleaning yesterday.”
Jake shrugged. “I never get sick.”
Just banged up in plane crashes.
“Hannah doesn’t, either. I think it’s because she’s a schoolteacher and is exposed to germs all year long. That’s convenient when you’re also a mother, but very annoying to the rest of us.”
Jake grinned. He liked Carrie Nolan.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.
“No, I just wanted to talk to your daughter about something. It can wait.”
“How about coming over for breakfast? Nothing fancy, I was just going to fix hot cereal.”
Why not? He mostly ordered pizza from Luigi’s, despite what Barbi had said about getting items from the regular menu, but he was getting tired of it. Funny, pizza had been his favorite treat as a kid. He still remembered tasting it for the first time. Sully had met him and his mother on a layover in New York. It wasn’t long after the disastrous climbing party on Sagarmatha, but Josie had brightened when she’d seen Sully waiting at the gate. They’d stayed two days, seeing the sights and sampling various New York restaurants, including one that served pizza. It was during that visit Jake had realized his mother’s relationship with his father was more than ex-lover. Even now they still got together occasionally.
“I’d love breakfast.”
Carrie met him at the front door, and she looked even more like Hannah close up, with only a few extra laugh lines and some strands of silver in her hair.
“Danny is asleep,” she said in a hushed tone. “Go out on the deck. If he wakes up and hears you, he might come out. And even if you do have a tough constitution, it’s best not to push it.”
Jake glanced around as he went through to the French doors that opened onto the deck. Silver Cottage appeared to be similar to Huckleberry Lodge, with lots of natural wood and a rustic flavor that didn’t sacrifice comfort. And the deck, while smaller than the one off the lodge, had an equally fine view of the lake and mountain beyond.
“I’m sorry Danny isn’t feeling well,” he said when Carrie brought out a tray with two steaming bowls.
“He’s better today. The worst was last night, so Hannah didn’t get much rest. And of course she’ll be baking cookies all afternoon and making huckleberry ice cream tomorrow morning for the ice cream social. Nothing stops my daughter.”
“You mean people still have ice cream socials? I thought they went out of fashion a hun
dred years ago.”
“Not quite. It’s a Mahalaton Lake tradition and raises quite a bit of money for the rescue squad. Actually, there’s some type of event almost every weekend during the summer. Hasn’t Hannah mentioned them? She’s on two or three fund-raising committees.”
Jake tried to remember if Hannah had said anything about the community celebrations. There had been a brief comment, mostly as an explanation when he’d asked about her frequent visitors.
“Yeah, she said something about it. And I heard about the Christmas in August festival from someone named Gwen.”
Carrie chuckled. “We love Christmas here, so we finally decided that once a year wasn’t enough. Except for not having snow, Mahalaton Lake will look like an old-fashioned holiday card for over a week. We have visitors who come just for the festival.”
“That’s...uh, nice for the town,” Jake commented awkwardly. Christmas wasn’t celebrated in many of the different places where he’d grown up. He was aware of the religious aspect of the holiday, but the traditions surrounding it weren’t part of his childhood.
He did wonder why Hannah hadn’t told him about the ice cream social, especially since it was happening so soon. She’d also assumed he wouldn’t be interested in the festival. She was right, of course, but since local fund-raising activities seemed to be important to her, it was curious that she hadn’t tried to convince him to attend. Or at least to donate money.
“I should have asked if the cereal was done enough,” said Carrie. “We prefer it chewy, but some people like it cooked longer.”
“It’s fine.”
The sound of a car caught Jake’s attention. If it was Hannah, she probably wouldn’t appreciate finding him on her deck, talking to her mother. He suppressed a grin; Hannah was an intriguing woman, full of interesting contradictions.
“Mom, how is Danny doing?” Hannah asked as she came out onto the deck. She spared Jake a brief glance, her mouth tightening.
“Mostly just sleeping, but he’s been able to keep ginger ale and apple juice down. Jake and I just finished breakfast.”
“I see that.”
Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys) Page 11