Charming Hannah

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m always moody.”

  “You’re particularly sunshiny today,” Grace says, batting her eyelashes innocently.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he says. “But if I’d known I was going to be moving all of these damn boxes, I wouldn’t have gone to the gym this morning.”

  “You don’t have to be here,” I remind him. “I have a dolly that I can use to move stuff around.”

  “I don’t want either of you moving this stuff,” he says and I just cock a brow, watching him.

  “You get this way when you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” I say, tapping my lips with my finger. “Is that it?”

  “To be fair, I get testy when I haven’t gotten laid in a while,” Grace adds, making me smile. I nod in agreement, and Drake rolls his eyes. He’s the king of the eye-roll today.

  “There’s absolutely nothing wrong.”

  “Bullshit,” I reply. “I’ve known you for a dozen years, and there’s something bugging you.”

  “I lost a patient last night.” He leans against the wall and wipes the sweat from his brow. “It was a fluke, and it was during surgery. Routine gall bladder removal. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I’m sorry.” I stand and walk to him, wrap my arms around his waist and hug him close. This is the hardest part about what we do because eventually we’re faced with the reality that we’re human, and we can’t save everyone. “I’m very sorry.”

  “I’ll be okay,” he says and squeezes me tightly. “And I’m sorry I’m an asshole.”

  “It’s okay.” I pull back with a smile. “You’re only an asshole part of the time.”

  His lips twitch just as the doorbell rings. I open the door and freeze. There are two Montana Highway Patrol officers standing on my porch.

  “Brad.” I reach blindly for Drake’s hand. If something’s happened to Brad, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t lose him. I just found him. “Please tell me it’s not Brad.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  I sigh in relief, adrenaline coursing through my body. “Thank God.”

  “I’m patrolman Peterson, and this is my partner, patrolman James. Can we please come inside?”

  “Sure.” I step back and allow them in. “I’m moving, so the place is a mess.”

  “We won’t be long. You’ll want to sit down.”

  My eyes fly to both Grace and Drake, who are both watching the officers with suspicion. Grace has her phone gripped in her hand.

  “What’s this about?”

  Both men, in their forties with grim faces, look at each other. Patrolman Peterson says, “Would you rather we talk in private?”

  “No, I’d rather you tell me what’s going on.”

  He nods and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry to inform you that Randall Malone was killed yesterday morning in a motor vehicle accident just outside of Billings, Montana.”

  “What?” Suddenly both Drake and Grace are flanking me, each holding one of my hands, and the blood is rushing in my ears. “That can’t be possible. He doesn’t live in Montana.”

  “No, ma’am. But he was driving through Montana, for what purpose we can’t be sure.”

  “But I live in Cunningham Falls,” I whisper and close my eyes. “That asshole was coming here.”

  “He was in a multiple vehicle accident yesterday,” he repeats, “and he was the only fatality.”

  “Well, at least there’s that.” Drake squeezes my hand and I just shake my head. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “That’s not all,” he continues. “It seems you’re the only surviving relative of your father’s, so we need to know where you want the body to be transported to.”

  “Excuse me?” I scowl and pull my hands free so I can fist them. “I don’t want him.”

  “Well, you can choose to not claim him,” the patrolman says. “But in that case—”

  “Can she think about it?” Grace asks, interrupting him. “Is there a number she can call you at once she’s had the chance to think it all through and take it in. This is a lot of information.”

  “Of course,” he replies and pulls out his business card, passing it to me. “You have a few days to decide what you’d like to do. You just give me a call if you need anything. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  With that, they both tip their hats to me and leave, and I just stand here, staring at nothing.

  “Did that just happen?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Drake says from beside me. “I’m sorry, Hannah Banana.”

  “I’m not sorry.” I turn to face him, fierce anger burning through me. “It’s just a blessing that he didn’t kill anyone else this time. What the fuck was he doing in Montana anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” Drake says. “Hannah—”

  “No.” I shake my head and stomp away. “I’m so damn pissed. How dare he come to my home? My home. What did he think he would do when he got here? That we’d have a great reunion, and break out some pictures and reminisce about the good ol’ days? Because there weren’t any good ol’ days, Drake. None. And now they want me to claim his body?”

  I laugh and pace around the living room.

  “And do what with him? I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to that body. And why shouldn’t I abandon him?” I continue, seeing red and feeling palpitations begin in my chest. “He abandoned me my whole life. And then he killed my mother.”

  My breathing is harsh, and I can feel tears wetting my cheeks.

  “Hannah, you need to sit down,” Grace says, but I shake my head. I’m too wound up.

  “I don’t understand why he couldn’t just stay in Kansas, in his pathetic life. I am fine without him. I’m better than fine. I’m fucking fantastic.”

  I stop to breathe, and realize that I’m having chest pains.

  Fuck.

  “I’ve worked myself up into a heart attack.”

  “What?” Grace demands and rushes to my side. “What’s happening?”

  “Chest pain. Short of breath.” I look to Drake, but he’s just watching me intently, not saying anything. “You’re never this stoic.”

  “I’m letting you be angry.”

  “I’m not angry, I’m fucking furious. I don’t need this.” I let my head fall back. “I can’t die. I just found the love of my life. This isn’t fair.”

  “You’re not dying,” Drake says. “You’re having an anxiety attack.”

  “Fuck that,” I retort and glare at him. “I’m having chest pain and shortness of breath. You went to med school.”

  “I did, and I also know those are symptoms of an anxiety attack.”

  “That’s not what this is,” I insist and sit on a chair, holding my chest.

  “Maybe I should call 911,” Grace says, but I immediately shake my head.

  “No, if you do that, they’ll tell Brad. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

  “Hannah, he’s the love of your life as you just put it,” Grace says. “If I didn’t call Jacob at a time like this, he’d spank my ass red, and not in a fun way.”

  “Kinky,” Drake murmurs, trying to make me laugh, but it’s not working. “Hannah, take a deep breath.”

  “I can’t.” I push my head between my knees and bury my face in my hands, completely mortified. This is how I’m going out. Of a heart attack in my early thirties because my father decided to kill himself on a highway in Montana.

  Someone presses a cold rag to the back of my neck, momentarily making me feel better, but then the pain shoots down my left arm and I’m officially freaked the fuck out.

  “I have left arm pain.” I stare up at Drake, truly scared now. “Drake, this isn’t normal.”

  He sighs and nods. “Okay. I still don’t think it’s a heart attack, but we should take you in to be checked out, just to be sure.”

  I nod and stand, letting the business card I’ve been clutching in my hand fall to the floor. I don’t bother with my handbag or phone, or even my keys as I follow Drake out o
f my house to his car.

  “I’m going to call Brad,” Grace says, but I turn on her and point my finger in her face.

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, Grace. Do not do that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  ~Brad~

  “WOW, YOU’VE DONE A lot since I was here last.” I’m standing with Jenna at the tree house project, our hands on our hips, staring up at the structures that finally look like a tree house. The siding is cedar shingles, and they look like they’ve been here all along. Like they belong on this mountain.

  “It’s amazing what you can get done when you fire a deadbeat and have someone on staff who knows what they’re doing.” She smiles sweetly, and motions for me to follow her into the biggest of the three buildings.

  I’m stunned to see kitchen cabinets already installed and workers bustling about, measuring for the countertops that will be delivered in the morning.

  “Blue cabinets?”

  “I know, aren’t they great?” she says with a big smile. “The countertops will be white, and it’s really going to pop.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” She picks up a clipboard and starts reading through her checklist. “So you and Hannah had fun at Max’s place?”

  “We did. Have you ever been down there?”

  “No, I keep meaning to, but something always comes up with one of the rentals.” She shrugs. “I’ll get there eventually.”

  “You should hire a management company to help you.” This is an argument that’s been happening for about two years now, ever since Jenna decided to branch out from the B&B and add other vacation rentals to her list of properties. “How many properties do you have now?”

  “Twelve, if you include these,” she says. “And yes, it’s a full time job, but I love it. I have a manager at the B&B now, so that pretty much runs itself. I trust Maggie completely with it. So, I oversee the building of the homes, the design, and the rentals. I have housekeepers.”

  “I should hope so,” I reply and shake my head at her. “You know, just hiring a management company to oversee the housekeeping and scheduling the rentals would be a huge help.”

  “I know.” She sighs and rubs her forehead. “I know I’m being stubborn. But I love this stuff. Real estate is my jam, and greeting guests when they check in is a kick. They’re excited to be there. And the personal touches I put on everything is what keeps them all coming back.”

  “There’s no doubt that you’re great at your job, Jen. You absolutely are.”

  “I’m going to see how it goes with these,” she says, gesturing to the tree houses. “If they’re as high maintenance as I think they will be, I’ll have to hire someone to at least oversee the properties in Whisper.”

  Whisper is a neighboring town, only ten miles away, that is much bigger than Cunningham Falls and houses all of the amenities that our little town just can’t, such as chain restaurants and department stores.

  “How many are over there?”

  “Six,” she says. “So, I might need help down there. We’ll see. For now, I’m content.”

  “That’s the important thing.”

  “And now that you’ve distracted me from talking about your trip, spill it. Don’t tell me about the sex.”

  “There’s not much of anything else to tell.” I grin when she wrinkles her nose and makes a gagging sound. “I mean, there was a lot of sex.”

  “Ew, really?”

  “Well, there was, but there was other stuff too. We walked the beach a few times, watched whales. There’s a great pool area, and the restaurants are great. We didn’t leave the resort the whole time we were there.”

  “That sounds like the best vacation.”

  I nod and raise an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time for you to take a vacation.”

  “I don’t have anyone to take a romantic vacation with,” she reminds me.

  “It’s not like you put yourself out there, Jenna. You work and you go home.”

  “I’m not discussing my dating life with you.”

  “Fine.” I sigh and then smile when she passes me a paper bag. “What’s this?”

  “I went to Little Deli earlier for sandwiches for the guys, and I got too many. You might as well take them for the guys.”

  “I’ll take them over to Hannah’s. She has Grace and Drake there to help her pack up the rest of her things.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you that she moved in with me.”

  “No.” She frowns. “You told me she was going to move in with you, and I assumed that meant in the coming months, not ten minutes later.”

  “Is this a problem?”

  She blinks, thinking it over. “No. It’s not a problem. You know I love Hannah, and I think she’s good for you. I’m just surprised at the speed that you made it happen. You’re usually more… laid back.”

  “I want her with me.” I turn to leave. “Thanks for the sandwiches. I’ll take them over to her now.”

  I saw her four hours ago, and I feel like I’m going through withdrawals. My friends would say I’m whipped.

  And they wouldn’t be wrong.

  I enjoy her more than I ever thought I could. Spending time with her is the highlight of my day, and when we’re apart, I count down until I get to see her again.

  She’s the best part of my life, and I’m relieved that she agreed to move in with me. Spending every night with her has been amazing.

  She’s at her old place today with Grace and Drake, finishing up with some packing and clearing out so we can get it ready for vacation rentals. I park at the curb in front of her house, pleased to see her car in the driveway. I reach for the brown bag full of lunch and climb out of the truck. It’s quiet as I approach the house. The front door is open, with just the screen door shut, but maybe they’re busy packing and aren’t talking.

  That would be unusual for Hannah and Grace, but not impossible.

  “Hello?” I step inside and frown. Boxes are half packed, packing tape is sitting about, but no one is here. I call out again and walk to the back of the house, through the kitchen to the backyard, but still no one.

  “What the hell?”

  I dial Hannah’s number and feel my heart start to beat faster when I hear it ring in the living room.

  She doesn’t have her phone. The house is open, her car is in the driveway.

  What the fuck is going on?

  I stalk into the living room to get her phone. No calls or texts that would give me a clue as to where she is.

  I glance down and see a business card on the floor.

  “Montana Highway Patrol, Vern Peterson.”

  For the first time in my life, my palms are starting to sweat as I dial Peterson’s number and wait for him to answer.

  “This is Brad Hull, the police chief of Cunningham Falls, and I’m looking for Hannah Malone. I found your business card in her home.”

  “I spoke with her today,” he confirms.

  “About what?”

  “I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that when I saw her an hour ago she was fine.”

  I scowl. “She was here an hour ago? Do you know where she went?”

  “No, Chief. Sorry. She was there when we left.”

  I thank him and hang up, more frustrated than before. What the hell is happening? And why did the highway patrol need to speak with her?

  I try calling Grace’s number and curse a blue streak when she doesn’t answer.

  I don’t like not knowing where she is. Not like this. Something is very wrong.

  I’m pacing the living room when a number I don’t recognize calls my phone.

  “Hull.”

  “This is Drake. I think you should know that I’m with Hannah at the emergency room.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  I’m already running out to my truck and driving toward the hospital, which is thankfully just ten minutes away.

  “No,” he says. “Let me know when you get here.”

  He
hangs up and I toss my phone on the seat, run my hand over my face, and pray for patience. I run into the emergency room, stopping at the nurse’s station.

  “Fran, I need to get back to see Hannah.”

  Fran, a woman I’ve known most of my life, just frowns. “I’m not at liberty to give you any information on who may or may not be here.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, I know she’s here. Drake called me. I need to get back to her.”

  “I can’t do that,” she repeats. “It’s family only, and you’re not her husband.”

  “Neither is Drake.”

  “He escorted her here.”

  “I’m the chief of police.”

  Fran smiles, but I can see that I’m getting nowhere. “That doesn’t matter here. This isn’t a police matter, and I’m not letting you back there.”

  “I’ll push my way through.”

  “I’d love to see you try. I’ve stopped men far bigger than you, Brad Hull.” She props her hands on her hips, her chin the air, standing firm.

  “Damn it, Fran.”

  “Go find a seat, and I’ll come find you when and if you can go back.”

  I turn away just as Drake comes out to the waiting room.

  “Thank God,” I say when he approaches. “Nurse Ratchet here wouldn’t let me back.”

  “I heard that,” Fran says, but I ignore her.

  “Hannah is safe and unharmed,” Drake begins and pushes his hand through his hair.

  “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  “She doesn’t know I called you, and frankly, she’ll punch me in the balls when she finds out I did.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugs. “I suspect she’s embarrassed, but you should be here. The highway patrolmen showed up at the house to inform her that her father died.”

  “Shit.”

  “He was in Montana.”

  My eyes meet Drake’s grim ones. “In Montana.”

  He nods. “I think she should tell you the rest because it’s not my story to tell, but she’s pretty upset. Not that her dad died, but it triggered some anxiety, and—”

  “I get it.”

  “She doesn’t look great, so I want you to prepare yourself for that. I haven’t seen her this bad before.”