Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys) (12 page)

Hannah wavered. “All right,” she agreed finally.

She got the number from her cell phone contacts list and Jake got in touch with Barbi, offering a generous sum for making a quick run to the grocery store and delivering the supplies to Brendan’s condo.

“There. All taken care of,” Jake said, tucking the satellite phone back into his pack.

Hannah swung her backpack over her shoulders. It was nice that Jake had offered to pay Barbi, and it showed more sensitivity than she’d expected. Still, she questioned whether he was genuinely concerned about her missing any commitments. Life was a game to him and he didn’t stay in one place long enough for it to become real. The plane accident was probably the first time he’d been confronted with something he couldn’t fix with his money or by moving on.

“You can find dogwood in both open and fairly dense forests,” she said after a few minutes, Badger trotting alongside her. She was trying to set a moderate pace that wouldn’t tax Jake’s body
or
wound his ego, and it wasn’t easy. His face was expressionless, giving her no clue about whether they were going too quickly or too slowly.

“I’ve seen pictures in your books at the lodge. The written material says the white petals aren’t actually part of the flower.”

“Right, those are bracts. The blossoms are in the center, but it’s hard not to think of the whole thing as the flower. They’re beautiful everywhere they grow, but I especially love seeing them in the deep woods.”

“You said that they glowed.”

“They do. They just seem to hang there in midair, shimmering. Most of the year, dogwood is just part of the undercanopy of the woods, but in spring, it’s like a jewel from an enchanted land.”

* * *

“U
H
-
HUH
.” J
AKE
WAS
mostly concentrating on walking, keeping his leg straight and the rest of his body cooperating. Six months ago he’d been able to hike all day carrying a heavy load; now it was a challenge to go a level mile with a light pack slung over his good shoulder. Still, he
was
improving.

He frowned as he thought about setting up a grocery run for Brendan Townsend. Normally he wouldn’t get involved, but the conflicted expression on Hannah’s face had bothered him. He suspected she had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility, maybe because of her late friend, or for some other reason.

As for Barbi Paulson, her first reaction to hearing about Brendan’s illness had been concern, not “it serves him right” or some other invective. Then, as if she’d remembered she was supposed to despise Brendan, she’d popped off a smart remark. But smart remark or not, she was going to take a bag of groceries to him. She hadn’t wanted to be paid, but Jake had quickly pointed out that she wouldn’t want it to look as if she was doing Brendan Townsend any favors.

The sound of trickling water caught Jake’s attention a short time later and he looked up to see a small stream shooting down through a crevice before setting into a series of woodland pools, the highest only a little bigger than a washbasin.

“Is this where you camp with your family?” he asked.

“There’s a spot in a clearing near here that isn’t crossed by any large animal trails. We have other sites as well, all around the lake and on Mount Mahala.”

“As secluded as this?”

Hannah shrugged. “Pretty much. There are campgrounds available, but we prefer to get away by ourselves.”

Jake drew a lungful of the clean, crisp air, taking in the scent of trees and growing things, and it was as if some of the life rushed back into him. He bent over the upper pool, intending to scoop a handful of water into his mouth, when Hannah stopped him.

“You might want to rethink that. It’s glacial meltwater,” she said. “The base of Meriwether Glacier is a ways up from here, but the water travels down so quickly, it doesn’t have time to warm up that much.”

Jake dipped a fingertip into the water. Hannah was right—it was icy. The hike had gotten him hot, and putting such cold water into his stomach wasn’t a smart idea.

“Here.”

She handed him an aluminum bottle from her backpack, taking one out for herself, as well. Badger got a drink, too, poured into her hand for him to lap from. It was disconcerting for Jake to realize that though he was a seasoned wilderness traveler, he hadn’t thought to bring drinking water, while Hannah had.

“Thanks.”

They sat on some rocks in a beam of sunshine, Jake surreptitiously rubbing his aching leg. Birds twittered, flitting back and forth in the trees above them, and he smiled faintly. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his landlady’s special places in the mountains, but this one was filled with peace...something he’d had precious little of since the crash. He looked at Hannah. Her eyes were closed and her body was swaying, almost as if listening to an inner music.

He opened his mouth.

“Please don’t say anything awful,” she murmured before he could speak.

“How did you know I was going to say something?”

“You drew your breath in a certain way. I belong to three fund-raising committees. It’s a subtle skill, but I always know when someone is getting ready to say something, even when I’m not looking at them.”

“Oh. And why would you think I’d say something awful?”

She looked at him. “Do you really have to ask?”

Probably not
.

Jake took another drink rather than answering. He usually wasn’t a complete ass when dealing with people. On average he was better than Toby, who complained a blue streak and wasn’t always discreet.

Hannah rolled her shoulders and stood up. “If you’re ready, the place where the dogwood may still be blooming isn’t far from here.”

He got up more slowly. “Of course I’m ready.”

They crossed the stream and followed a narrow game trail. Shortly after, they emerged in a clearing where the large trees were still so thick only limited sparkles of sunlight found their way below. And in the midst of the green shadows, large white blossoms seemed eerily suspended in the air, exactly the way Hannah had described. The absence of other foliage on the branches intensified the sensation that the sight wasn’t quite real.

Forgetting everything else, Jake unzipped his pack and took out one of his cameras.

CHAPTER NINE

F
OLLOWING
HER
EARLY
Monday morning shift at the bakery, Barbi pushed a cart down the supermarket aisle, unable to believe she was shopping for stuff to get Brendan Townsend through the flu. Still, he didn’t have any family in Mahalaton Lake and Barbi knew what it felt like to be sick alone—not wanting to ask for help and feeling more alone because of it.

She had family in Mahalaton Lake, but Vic only came around when he wanted money or to cry on her shoulder about losing Rachael. She certainly couldn’t call and ask him to get anything at the store for her, and she didn’t like to ask friends...though both Luigi and Hannah had scolded her in the past for not letting them know when she was sick.

Barbi looked at the applesauce and picked out both a sweetened and unsweetened variety since she didn’t know which one Brendan preferred.
And I don’t care, either,
she thought defiantly. She added individual serving packs of Jell-O and a rice pudding she liked herself.

A few minutes later she walked up to Brendan’s condo, a box of ginger-ale cans in one hand and a heavily loaded grocery bag in the other. She pressed the bell with her elbow and waited.

The door swung open and a bleary-eyed Brendan stared at her with a stupid expression on his handsome face. “I didn’t order pizza.” He looked ready to gag at the thought, and for once she was reasonably sure it didn’t have anything to do with her clothes.

“Yeah, and it’s Monday, too. Luigi’s doesn’t deliver on Mondays.”

“I’ve got... Jeez.” He clapped a hand to his mouth and retreated across his living room.

Unperturbed by the less-than-warm welcome, Barbi stepped inside and closed the door. The condo was nicely furnished, but dull, with only a few spots of color. And the kitchen was practically bare. Figured. She’d heard Brendan was well acquainted with the restaurants in both Mahalaton Lake and Lower Mahalaton.

She began stowing the groceries in the fridge, glad to see there wasn’t any beer or wine inside. It wasn’t that she had anything against booze, and Brendan’s drinking habits had nothing to do with her, but she was still glad. She was debating whether or not he’d want his applesauce chilled when she heard footsteps behind her.

Brendan’s hair was tousled, he was wearing ancient gray sweats and he looked entirely too miserable for words.

“When did you get sick?” she asked.

“Around 6:00 a.m.”

“If it’s any consolation,” she said. “You’ll feel better in a few hours. The worst part doesn’t last long.”

He brightened marginally. “You’ve had it already?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh. Why are you here?”

“Hannah was out of town for the day when she found out you were sick. She wanted me to get a few things for you. You know, bananas and soda and stuff.”

Brendan looked nauseated again. “I’m never eating another bite as long as I live.”

“Honest, by two or three this afternoon, you should be able to keep water down. Drink only a little bit at a time or you’ll be sorry. I got club soda—it seems to work the best. In another couple of hours, try ginger ale. Otherwise you’ll start getting wobbly.”

“You mean more wobbly than I am now?” he asked wryly, resting against the wall for support.

Barbi’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, more than now. Do you need me to do anything else, like a load of laundry?” she surprised herself by asking. But it was just because she felt sorry for the dope.

Brendan seemed equally surprised. “You can’t be serious.”

She shrugged and stuck out her chin. “I offered, didn’t I?”

“I can’t let you do that.” But the protest was halfhearted at best.

He slumped farther down the wall and Barbi sighed. She had a couple of hours before her shift at Pat’s Burger Hut, so she could look after a few things for him.

Besides, she knew how it felt to be sick and alone. Maybe Brendan wasn’t going to die or anything, but she’d bet he felt pretty lonely and sorry for himself. At times like that it was nice to be reminded that someone...
anyone
cared.

“Come on, Prince Charming. You should be horizontal.” She grabbed his arm and led him back to his bedroom.

She leaned him against the doorjamb as she quickly tidied the bed covers. When the sheets were pulled straight, he collapsed onto the mattress with a grunt, seeming barely aware of her presence.

Barbi looked around. There was an untidy pile of sheets flung in a corner of the room, along with towels and some dirty T-shirts. She gathered them up.

Unlike her shabby rental, the condo had personal laundry machines, and she filled the washer in Brendan’s utility room. Otherwise the place was reasonably tidy, which was good, because she had no intention of doing more than a few basic chores.

She had the laundry neatly folded when she had to leave for work. Brendan had fallen asleep, so she put a bottle of club soda on his bedside table. Despite his dark stubble, he had a little-boy look that was endearing, but she stomped on the feeling.

A book was on the floor and she picked it up— J. R. R. Tolkien’s
The Hobbit
. Of all the Tolkien books about Middle Earth,
The Hobbit
was her favorite, and her brow creased with puzzlement as she put it next to the club-soda bottle.

If anything, she’d have expected to see the
Wall Street Journal
or a law text, but the book was dog-eared, plainly read over and over. It didn’t fit. How could she and a fuddy-duddy like Brendan have anything in common?

And did it mean he wasn’t such a lost cause after all?

* * *

H
ANNAH
WATCHED
J
AKE
’
S
focus narrow and intensify as he took picture after picture with a camera that made her pocket-size digital look like a toy. The rest of the world had vanished for him; the only thing he saw was the image through his viewfinder.

Sitting down, she leaned against a tree trunk with Badger resting his head on her leg, prepared for a long wait. She’d wanted Jake to see what she loved about the Cascades, so she couldn’t complain.

There was a cathedral-like hush to the clearing, and she gazed upward. Even in sunlight, when a dogwood tree was blooming the branches faded into the background. But under the canopy of larger trees, the creamy-white bracts seemed to hang in the air, like butterflies.

Jake took another camera out of his pack, along with an ingenious gadget he unfolded into a tripod. Some of his other equipment was more mysterious, but this was obviously something he found useful.

Shifting, Hannah stroked Badger’s head and reluctantly began thinking about Brendan. When it got right down to it, she couldn’t see him as a lover, no matter how perfect he should be for her. She couldn’t fall in love on demand. It was a stubborn, illogical emotion, and she obviously hadn’t got past her weakness for guys with a wild streak in their personality.

Like Jake Hollister
.

Damn, that was depressing.

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to decide when she should talk to Brendan and break things off. Obviously not today. He had the flu and it wasn’t fair to kick him when he was down. It was always possible he’d be relieved, but after his performance at the ice cream social, she doubted he’d be happy.

Still, she didn’t think Brendan was in love with her. It was more the
idea
of them being together that he liked.

Okay, so she couldn’t tell him today, and he ought to have an extra day to recover. Breaking up with someone was never a pleasant prospect, but she shouldn’t wait any longer than necessary. Perhaps Wednesday or Thursday.

The noon hour arrived and Hannah’s stomach grumbled. “Do you want some lunch?” she asked Jake, but he didn’t seem to hear.

She opened the soft-sided cooler she’d put in her own pack and took out a chicken-salad sandwich, along with a bag of kibble for Badger. Jake hadn’t said anything about food, but she’d put together a meal anyway.

His shopping list had been appalling—trail bars, trail mix, bread, peanut butter, jam of any flavor, cheese and dried fruit. In rebellion, she’d added bananas, apples, baby carrots and fresh milk and orange juice. He was living in a place where fresh foods were available. He didn’t have to eat as though he were still in the wilderness. Of course, he also had cold pizza quite often, and whatever leftovers Danny could find in their fridge and bring to him.

Hannah finished an apple and wrapped up the core before getting up to stretch. Next trip she’d have to bring a book with her—just sitting and watching a genius work was interesting, but it got old after a while.

Jake obviously worked hard, but it did seem as if he mostly lived behind his camera, observing but not being a part of anything. A camera might not seem like a huge barrier, but she suspected it kept most people at arm’s length. Jake probably preferred it that way.

Cooler in hand, she went over to stand directly in front of him. “Hey, do you want a sandwich?” she asked, speaking more loudly this time.

He dragged his attention away from his camera. “Do I want what?”

“Lunch.”

“Oh. Sure.” Jake unwrapped the sandwich she handed him and bit into it absently, then his eyes widened. “There’s curry in this.”

“Yup, and chicken, celery and raisins.”

“It’s great.”

The compliment sounded genuine, so she gave him a second sandwich and an apple before wandering back to her tree and dog, feeling sleepy. She was tempted to take a nap, but needed to keep track of the time. It looked as if Jake was capable of taking pictures until dark, and they’d agreed to get home in time for her to fix an early dinner for Danny.

By 2:00 p.m. Jake was finally showing signs of slowing down. “We’d better go,” Hannah prompted, and this time she didn’t need to stand in front of him to get his attention.

“Oh...yeah. Right.”

He carefully stowed his equipment in his pack and they headed toward where they’d left the Jeep. In the clearing around the small stream, Jake caught her hand.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just want to thank you.” He looked both exhausted and exhilarated as he bent and kissed her cheek.

Warmth curled through Hannah, and she swayed closer, though the kiss was so gentle, it couldn’t be mistaken for anything
except
a thank-you. Before she could do anything too stupid, she stepped backward, wincing as she turned her ankle on a rock.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I get carried away when my work is going well.”

“That...uh...” Hannah couldn’t decide whether to be angry or shrug it off. “Thank me for what?”

“For showing me one of your special places, particularly after the things I’ve said about the Cascades. Taking pictures in that kind of light is a challenge, and I like challenges.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen lots of places that challenge you.”

He shrugged and an indefinable expression flitted across his face. “A few. Shall we go? You’re probably anxious to talk to Brendan and see how he’s doing. If you don’t want to wait, call on my satellite phone.”

“Thanks, but later is fine.”

Hannah tried to smile, but she didn’t want to think about Brendan at the moment. On the other hand, she didn’t want to think about how it had felt when Jake kissed her, either. While he was attractive, she had no intention of getting involved with him. Between Collin and her ex-husband, her heart had been battered enough by reckless men for one lifetime.

Yet as they approached his Jeep, Hannah was struck by the absurdity of thinking about any type of encounter with Jake. He was determined to stay single and unencumbered by the things that were most important to her—family and children and other emotional ties.

“What are you grinning about?” he asked as she opened the back door for Badger to jump in.

“Was I grinning?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I’m just happy to be going home.”

Jake didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t care. She reversed the route they’d taken that morning, and despite the bumpy dirt road, she noticed he was asleep before they’d gone very far. It was possible that a two-mile hike was more than he should have attempted, but he had to make his own decisions.

* * *

L
ATER
THAT
AFTERNOON
Brendan reluctantly pried his eyes open and realized he hadn’t gotten sick in at least forty minutes. That was something. And his mouth was dry to the point that he actually wanted a drink.

He reached for the bottle of club soda on the bedside table. The past few hours were a blur, but he remembered Barbi showing up at his door and staying awhile...though he had no idea
why
she’d stayed. She hadn’t seemed the least bit horrified at seeing him look so disgusting, and had even offered reassurances that the worst would be over soon.

Swallowing tentatively, he waited for an immediate gag reflex, but the liquid settled mercifully in his tummy. He was about to drink some more, then remembered Barbi’s advice to take it slowly.

He let his head fall back against the pillow and tried to remember when she’d left. He must have been asleep.

Ah, sleep
...
“Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.” An ironic smile twisted Brendan’s lips as he thought of the old poem and the nightmares he’d had in place of sweet dreams. John Keats obviously hadn’t been thinking about the stomach flu when he wrote those words.

Let’s see...Barbi had brought him groceries because Hannah was out of town with Jake Hollister. Brendan groaned, recalling his idiotic behavior the day before. At least Hannah wasn’t so angry that she didn’t care he was sick.

And it was rather nice of Barbi to do something for him, no matter what the reason. She’d mentioned doing a load of laundry.... Brendan got up cautiously and found a neatly folded stack of towels, sheets and clothes on top of his dresser.

He briefly wondered why she hadn’t put them away, but realized she’d respected his privacy by not going through his drawers and cupboards. That was nice. He hadn’t thought a woman like Barbi would keep her nose out of places it didn’t belong.