Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys) (14 page)

“Uh-huh.” Jake was focused on one of his cameras and Hannah was glad he wasn’t watching as she swung around a curve she’d driven numerous times.

“Take a look.”

He looked up absently and his eyes widened. The scenery around them had gone from lush forest to the stark, gray-white skeletons of trees. And spreading beyond them to the south and west were tree trunks lying on the ground as if cut down by a scythe and combed straight in patterns mirroring the direction the blast had flowed over the hills.

“When the mountain went it started with a huge avalanche, followed by a lateral pyroclastic flow,” she explained, slowing the Jeep to a crawl. “Three hundred and fifty miles an hour, with molten rock and gases that pulverized everything in its path. Farther out, the flow slowed to around two hundred miles an hour, moving over the contours of the land, flattening trees, but not taking them with it.”

“What about these?” Jake gestured to the tree skeletons that stood upright.

“This is where the force of the flow lessened and the rocks fell out. The heated gases went up, killing the trees, but not knocking them over. Do you want to stop and take pictures?”

“When we come back. You mentioned having to return by the same road.”

“Yup. One way in, one way out. And just a reminder, there’s always the chance of another eruption. We’ve had multiple periods of activity since 1980.”

“Hmm.” Once again Jake’s face was unreadable. “But you brought me here anyway?”

“I checked the internet last night and there haven’t been any recent grumbles that concern the scientists, not that you can always predict that sort of thing. The 1980 eruption was far more violent than anyone thought it would be.”

* * *

J
AKE
LISTENED
,
LETTING
the information Hannah was relaying run through his mind. She’d probably brought Danny and school groups here, telling them whatever she thought appropriate. Apparently the recovery of the devastated area was occurring more quickly than scientists had ever considered possible.

But life wasn’t just creeping in from the edges. Pockets of life had survived in places no one had expected, sometimes protected under heavy snow cover or by the roots of uprooted trees. Gophers, sleeping protected underground at the time of the eruption, had brought up soil and seeds when they’d awakened. Islands of new life were being created by lupine plants, germinating in a hostile environment. Life...persistent, demanding, irrepressible.

Gordon popped into Jake’s mind, and he wondered if the old bush pilot would ever stop lingering there. The possibility that he’d failed to recognize the pilot’s imminent health crisis was the most disturbing of all. It was bad enough that he’d hired the man, which was what had put him in the plane in the first place.

At the viewpoint Hannah called Windy Ridge, they got out and gazed at the changed landscape, shaped by the explosion and its aftermath.

“This is what it looked like before.” Hannah handed him an open book, and Jake stared at the image of a mountain and lake so pristine in their beauty, they hardly looked real.

“It doesn’t look like the same place.”

“It isn’t,” she said simply. “The bottom of
this
Spirit Lake is above the surface level of the old lake. A good deal of the missing mountain is down there. The eruption started with an avalanche. A three-hundred-foot wave was pushed ahead of it onto the surrounding mountains before washing back down with trees and debris into the new lake basin.”

Spirit Lake
.

Great name,
he thought, looking at the water, where dead trees still floated on nearly a third of the surface. The shattered volcanic peak above looked as if it had been ripped open by giant, ruthless hands.

“Are you a park ranger, ma’am?” asked someone standing nearby in a group.

Hannah smiled pleasantly. “No, I’m a schoolteacher. Would you like to see some of the pictures I brought?”

They nodded and she passed the book around, telling them tidbits about the volcano as they compared the “before” picture to the changed vista they saw now.

“Hannah, how did it get the name of Spirit Lake?” Jake surprised himself by asking.

“I’m not sure, but there’s a legend that a group of Native American fishermen drowned when a storm capsized their canoe. Supposedly the local tribes wouldn’t come here after that because a strange moaning used to echo across the water.”

“Ooh,” one of the women said, shivering in horrified delight. “I never heard that story and I’ve lived down in Oregon my whole life.”

After they’d gone, Hannah tucked the book beneath her arm. “What are you thinking, Jake?”

“I’m wondering why you chose to bring me here.”

“You mean because the volcano isn’t as pretty as dogwood and rounded snowcapped summits?” She looked out at the slopes of the shattered peak. “This is part of what makes the Cascades. You can feel the mountains here, growing and changing. They’re alive, just in a different way than we are.”

His jaw tight, Jake prowled up and down the view point, trying to evaluate camera angles. “Can that part of volcano be climbed?” he asked, pointing to the area above the lake water.

“No, only the southern flank. I’ve done it. You can get to the top and back in a day. And they’ve opened a few other trails through the monument.”

He was glad she hadn’t pointed out that he wouldn’t be mountain climbing for a while,
or
attempting any strenuous hiking trails through a hazardous area.

As for the volcanic monument, he’d have to see more from the other access points before he could decide how to photograph it. Some of his more powerful lenses would be needed to shoot places that couldn’t be reached on foot. That was,
if
he included Mount St. Helens in his book. It would depend on whether he could get any photos that satisfied him.

Jake shot a quick look at Hannah as she talked to a young couple who’d arrived a few minutes before. She loved her mountains, and he realized he should be listening...not so much for the information, but for her feelings and the way
she
saw the land around them.

It was an unsettling notion because he wasn’t comfortable needing anyone from a creative standpoint. Or from any standpoint, for that matter.

“Where can we dig to find Mount St. Helens emeralds?” the woman asked as Jake stepped closer.

A pained expression crossed Hannah’s face. “The emeralds are manufactured—they weren’t formed by the volcano.”

“We thought they blew out of the mountain when it erupted,” the young man explained.

“No, though they’re made with a small amount of ash collected outside the monument. Everything within the boundaries is protected, so even if there
were
emeralds here, you couldn’t take them.”

“Oh.” The woman wrinkled her nose and looked at her companion. “Honey, if we leave now, we’ll probably have time to go shopping at those factory-outlet places we saw on the freeway.”

“I don’t know if any of the outlet stores carry Mount St. Helens emeralds,” Hannah warned quickly.

“No worries. Give me the Gap and I’m happy.”

Hannah didn’t say anything until they’d gotten in their bright red SUV and driven away.

“Okay, they may have watched a few
too
many movies,” she admitted, “though I can’t think of any films where a volcano spits out gemstones. I wonder if they thought the emeralds were already cut and ready to be set in jewelry.”

“It almost sounded like it.”

“Well, I’ll wait in the Jeep and read while you take pictures. I brought lunch, so let me know when you’re hungry.”

“Sure.” Jake watched as she walked to the Jeep and got in.

He was already hungry, just not for food. The memory of telling Hannah about his opinions on marriage came back to him, and he sighed. While he hadn’t consciously warned her off, it had probably been a
subconscious
warning. It was risky to be attracted to a woman the way he was attracted to Hannah, and working together was just making it worse.

Frustrated, he lifted his camera and began shooting a series of photos that weren’t intended as art, but to help him plan and make decisions.

There
was
something evocative about the wreckage around him, triggering sensations he couldn’t define. The land had been stripped naked—every rock, every hillock and small valley, every scar still revealed. But it wasn’t the first time it had happened in the long geologic history of the mountains, and it wouldn’t be the last.

How can you take the best photographs if you don’t see the soul beyond the beauty?

Hannah’s question echoed in Jake’s mind, and he felt his jaw tighten. But it wasn’t the criticism of his work that bothered him. She obviously operated from an emotional level, while he approached life analytically. Yet often there was an expression in her eyes, as if she knew something he didn’t...which was a ridiculous thought.

He’d experienced dozens of cultures in his childhood, but Josie had made sure he didn’t get caught up in their spiritual beliefs. It was understandable; while Josie had told him little about her childhood, he knew her parents had been religiously hidebound people who’d cared more about their moral principles than her well-being.

Forget it,
he ordered. His art was the important thing.

Jake’s camera pack was on his shoulder and he put a more powerful lens on than the one he’d been using. It was a toy compared to others he used, but still dramatically magnified the broken mountain peak.

There was a wisp of steam or smoke rising around the new cinder cone that was building in the center. The foundation of Mount St. Helens already lay on an older volcano, and one day this new one would probably rest on both.

Jake snapped several pictures and looked back down at Spirit Lake. As he stared, he thought he heard a few haunting chords of music, like a low moaning.

What the hell?

There were ancient stories everywhere he went, and while their roots might be based in historical fact, the myths accompanying them were not. Another low note sounded, and Jake looked back at the Jeep.

Hannah’s head was bent over, though she frequently raised it and looked out at the mountain. He strode to the Jeep and opened the door. Soft flute music was coming from the SUV’s speakers; the sounds he’d heard must have been the result of some odd trick of acoustics.

“Is something wrong?” Hannah asked, retrieving the paperback book she’d dropped out of surprise.

“Nothing. That is, I could hear the music. A little of it, at least.”

“This CD is by one of my favorite musicians, R. Carlos Nakai. I heard someone playing a Native American flute up here when I was a teenager. But it wasn’t for money or to entertain visitors—he said it was a song of healing for the land. Ever since then, I’ve tried to play something similar when I visit.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Do you honestly believe that stuff?”

“I’d rather believe in something than have nothing to hold on to.” Her gaze was sad when she looked at him. “You’ve seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, Jake. How can you not believe in something greater than yourself when you see mountains falling away from you like waves, or trees that were already old when Charlemagne ruled France?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because you remind me of someone I knew who died, terrified and certain that it was the absolute end. The strange thing was that Collin constantly courted death, even though he believed there was nothing but a blank void on the other side.” Her voice caught.

“You’re talking about your friend who died in the mountain-climbing accident.”

“Yes.”

“And you loved him.”

“As much as a seventeen-year-old girl can love a boy.”

Hell
. He had never known a woman long enough to hear the details of her first love, and Hannah’s story had ended far more tragically than most. No wonder she was so sensitive about people taking what she considered foolish risks.

“Losing him like that must have been awful,” Jake said awkwardly. “Is that why you’re so protective of Danny?”

“I’m protective of Danny because I’m his mother. Um, don’t you have some pictures to take?”

Plainly, Hannah didn’t want to talk any longer, which was fine with Jake. Death wasn’t the most comfortable subject for someone who’d recently come close to dying himself.

“Yeah. But could you turn the music off? It’s distracting.”

“I don’t see how you heard it out there, but I’ll use headphones.”

“Thanks.”

Jake walked away, wondering what it was about Hannah that challenged him at every turn. He’d thought he had her figured out as just another bitter divorcée, but she was far more complicated.

At least he’d discovered where the music was coming from. But an hour later, at the far end of the parking lot, a few strains of eerie, haunting music sounded again in Jake’s ear. He whirled around. A number of cars had come and gone, but they were alone again, and he was certain those notes couldn’t have come from Hannah’s headphones.

He pressed a finger to his temple. If he said something, she’d probably just remind him of the legend of Spirit Lake and the lost canoe of fishermen. Or maybe she’d claim it was the echo of the Native American flute music she had heard years ago...that it was the musician’s healing song, lingering on the land.

But no matter how intriguing that sounded, it wasn’t either one.

The musical notes were just his imagination— everyone had one, though his might be a little stunted. After all, what child needed an imagination when their playpen was an African savannah or the windswept reaches of the Himalayas?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

H
ANNAH
TURNED
THE
pages of her novel, trying to focus on the plot rather than Jake Hollister. It was difficult to keep up with new releases and she was years behind.

On the other hand, she could recite almost everything from Dr. Seuss and
Where the Wild Things Are,
courtesy of bedtime reading with Danny. It was doubtful that Jake knew anything about the silly, fun Seuss rhymes with their clever bits of wisdom for children and adults alike.

Sighing, she looked up.

Jake was some distance away, shooting pictures of Mount St. Helens, but it wasn’t with the same intensity he’d taken the photos of the dogwood blossoms. It didn’t surprise her. People either understood what was special about the volcano, or they took a snapshot and hurried on to visit the Seattle Space Needle or see the majesty of Mount Rainier...or in some cases, to visit the Gap.

Not that Hannah didn’t love Mount Rainier. It was the king of the Cascades, so beautiful it was almost unearthly, surrounded by flowered meadows and ancient forests. She’d picked huckleberries on its lower slopes, taken the rigorous trek to its summit as a teenager and explored miles and miles of its trails.

Each peak in the mountain range had its own beauty, even the ravaged form of Mount St. Helens. And it was a reminder of the volcanic roots of the mountains, a stark reminder of nature’s power.

Usually the vast grandeur made her problems seem less significant, but today Hannah couldn’t get Brendan out of her mind for more than a few minutes.

Sighing, she put her book down and took out her cell phone. She couldn’t delay talking to Brendan forever, and unpleasant tasks just got harder the longer they were put off.

“Townsend Law Office,” the secretary answered.

“Hi, Renee, it’s Hannah Nolan. Is Brendan available?”

“Sure, his appointment just left.”

“Hannah,” Brendan exclaimed a moment later. “I’m glad you called. I feel terrible about Sunday—I don’t know what came over me. And then you were still so nice to have Barbi come over to help when I was sick.”

“Uh, yeah. Are you available for lunch tomorrow? We should talk.”

A short silence followed. “That sounds ominous. Why don’t you go ahead and say what you want to say right now?”

Hannah squirmed. “If that’s what you prefer. The thing is, the more we get to know each other, the fewer things we seem to have in common.”

“If this is about hiking and wild berries and such, I can learn.”

“But you’re not interested in it. And it’s not only that. You’re a great guy, you just aren’t the right one for me, and I would hate for you to develop expectations that aren’t going anywhere.”

There was a second silence, much longer this time.

“Are you sure?” he asked finally.

“Yes. I’d like to stay friends, but I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same.”

“Of course I want to be friends. But...uh, I’d better go now. I have another client coming in. Goodbye,” Brendan said quickly, then disconnected.

As Hannah dropped her phone in her backpack, she wished he’d gotten angry. But he was too much of a gentleman. Now she felt guilty for letting things drag on when in her heart of hearts she’d known for weeks that nothing could happen between them. There should have been
some
excitement when she saw Brendan...a little tingle when he kissed her, with the promise of more to develop. Instead everything had remained very polite and cordial.

Hannah got out of the Jeep and stretched.

It was late in the morning now, and the number of cars in the Windy Ridge parking area had increased. A park ranger had arrived as well and was talking to a group. Normally she’d hurry over to hear anything new there was to learn, but she was too edgy.

Jake turned around as she approached.

“Hi. Are you getting hungry?” she asked. “It’s been hours since breakfast.”

“I could eat.”

Because of the cool breeze, they sat in the Jeep. Hannah hadn’t expected to go hiking today, so she’d prepared an old-fashioned picnic with fried chicken and potato salad.

“This is really good,” Jake said as he ate. He’d sniffed the potato salad suspiciously—apparently never having tasted it before—eaten a tentative bite and was now wolfing it down. In Hannah’s world, potato salad wasn’t exotic, but exotic was really a matter of perspective. “By the way, I’ll have my business manager reimburse you for the meals. I didn’t think about food for these trips.”

“No need. I have to eat, too, and I made enough for my parents and Danny.”

“I usually just have trail mix when I’m working.”

“That’s what I figured.” Hannah wiped her hands on a napkin. She handed him a container of brownies and peeled a banana for herself.

Jake ate a brownie, reminding her of a little boy as he licked a streak of chocolate frosting from his finger.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, taking a second brownie. “Since climbing isn’t allowed on this side of the volcano, I’ll have to bring specialized equipment to take some of the pictures here. So if you want to head back to Mahalaton Lake, it’s fine with me. I’ll shoot placeholder photos as we drive.”

“I don’t mind pulling over whenever you want, but what do you mean by placeholder?”

“That’s just what I call them. Basically, they’re general location photos that don’t aim for high quality, but help me plan an extended day of shooting. I can come back on a weekend when you’re at one of your community events.”

“In that case, I’ll leave my maps in the Jeep.” She always carried a full set of maps in case there was a road problem and she needed an alternate route. The GPS on her smartphone was a great tool, but it was nice to look at a map and get a mental picture of where she needed to go.

“Thanks.”

Hannah tucked the food containers away and drove out of the parking lot, going well below the speed limit so Jake could get the pictures he’d planned.

When he’d finally settled back and was dealing with the SD cards, she glanced at him. “I’ve been wondering if you’re getting the pictures you want. I mean, with me needing to leave by a certain time to be home for Danny. If this isn’t working out the way you want, we can always quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You, me...going on these outings together. And just so you know, there
are
professional guides available in Mahalaton Lake. They take groups into the back country in all seasons of the year.”

“Why would I want to stop going with you?”

Hannah shrugged and concentrated on driving. It was Jake Hollister’s business how he spent his money, and all the fees he was paying were putting her way ahead on her finances.

* * *

T
HAT
EVENING
H
ANNAH
sat in the kitchen, talking on the phone to Wendy Schell, who was vice president of the Mahalaton Lake Fire Department auxiliary. A water pipe had broken at the church where the MLFD’s annual pancake supper was traditionally served, and anyone would have thought the world was coming to an end. Wendy had a talent for overreacting.

“Wendy, one of my dad’s construction crews is at the church right now doing the repairs. It’s going to be all right,” she said for the third time.

“But I saw how much water there was, and the dinner is just three days away. We’ve got signs and flyers all over town. I don’t see how we can change locations,” Wendy wailed.

“Dad said everything will be back to normal sometime tomorrow.”

“But there’ll be damage to the floor.”

“Nope, Dad says it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Hannah cut her off hastily.
“It’s fine
.
”

Though she was a member of the MLFD auxiliary, she wasn’t on the committee for their monthly suppers. But Gwen was away visiting her family for a few days and had told Wendy to call Hannah’s cell “if anything comes up.”

“All right,” Wendy said, though obviously reluctant to let the subject go. “You’re such a dear. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Hannah bit her lip to keep from saying something inappropriate. “You would have managed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She disconnected before the other woman could rev herself up again. Wendy was in her sixties, widowed with no children and hungry to feel needed. Most people in Mahalaton Lake tried to be understanding of her desperate desire for attention, but it could be difficult to deal with nonetheless.

Rubbing the tight muscles at the back of her neck, Hannah checked on Danny. He was sound asleep with Badger lying at the foot of the bed.

“Stay, boy,” she whispered when the retriever lifted his head.

Putting the cell in her pocket, she went across the yard to Huckleberry Lodge. She wouldn’t feel comfortable about going anywhere with Jake until Wendy was convinced there was no more drama to milk from the situation...or until Gwen got home, which was supposed to be by early afternoon the next day.

Yet even as the thought came, Hannah scolded herself. Wendy wasn’t a bad person, she was just insecure.

Hannah knocked and waited, but didn’t get a response. She was halfway back to Silver Cottage to write a note when she heard Jake’s voice.

“Hannah, is something wrong?”

She turned around.

Lord,
he was only wearing a towel wrapped around his hips. Her stomach instantly clenched with awareness. “Uh, not really, but I need to cancel our plans for tomorrow.”

“You sound tense. Come in for a minute while I dry off. I was in the hot tub.” He disappeared back into the lodge without giving her a chance to refuse.

Hannah sat on the living room couch and tried not to think about how tempting Jake’s bare chest had looked in the sunset. She didn’t actually
know
he hadn’t been wearing anything beneath the towel. On the other hand, the deck off the master bedroom was private enough for nude hot-tubbing, and with his background, Jake wasn’t likely hung up on modesty.

It was a tantalizing thought and much easier than thinking about the calls she’d probably get in the morning from Wendy. It was too bad she’d never felt the same tingle from imagining Brendan nude in a hot tub...or any other place. Jake just had a natural zing, the kind that made women do irrational things.

“Hey.” Jake eased onto the couch next to her, now fully covered by drawstring sweatpants and a faded University of Washington Huskies T-shirt.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a football fan.”

“I’m not. My brother’s wife thought I should have comfortable things to wear while I was recovering, so she raided his closet.”

“That was nice of her. Didn’t he mind?”

“I don’t think Matt minds anything Layne does.”

Jake sounded slightly baffled by his brother’s attitude, but Hannah thought it was endearing.

“So what’s happened about tomorrow?” Jake asked.

“It’s a long story and not very interesting. By the way, I’m sorry I brought up my old boyfriend again. I could tell it bothered you.”

“That’s all right. I deserved it after being such a grouch yesterday. You got to me with that flute thing, too.”

“What bothered you about it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s the way I was raised. That stuff about a healing song for a land sounds nice, but I don’t believe in that sort of thing and it gets awkward. Do
you
believe the land can be healed with music?”

“I don’t dismiss the possibility. And there’s something about Native American flute music that reaches inside a person.”

“True.” Yet Jake almost looked angry, and she sighed. Apparently she was right; he had a whole lot of demons to work out. Maybe it was natural to start questioning your life and the meaning of everything after almost dying.

The cell phone in her pocket rang and she pulled it out, expecting to see Wendy’s name on the screen, but it showed
D. Nolan
. “Hey, Dad, how’s it going?”

“We just finished. There wasn’t that much water, so everything should dry quickly.”

“I figured Wendy was exaggerating. You’d better get home before she shows up and has another meltdown. Oh, and thank Mom again for watching Danny for me today.”

“Will do. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

Hannah put the phone back in her pocket and looked at Jake.

“Was that the problem with tomorrow getting worked out?” he asked.

“A lot of it. The annoying part is still there.”

“That’s too bad.”

He stroked her hair, an intense, yearning expression on his face, and warmth curled through her body. Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him.

* * *

J
AKE
DREW
A
swift breath and cupped Hannah’s jaw, savoring the taste of her mouth.

There was little softness in the places where he’d grown up, often in remote campsites, or when it was feasible, staying with a willing villager. Josie had always been proud that she had made it in a hard world that most men couldn’t handle, and she’d taught him to be self-reliant. But he had to admit, there was something to be said for hot tubs and women with skin like silk.

And Hannah smelled wonderful. He’d noticed it before, but close up, her sweet scent was intoxicating.

The soft leather cushions of the couch whispered beneath them as he pulled her to him, stroking his tongue into her mouth. Hannah was clouding his thoughts, making it hard to be logical and think about anything except sex...and the thought of sex with her made him dizzy.

Hell, he’d had his share of women. It was amazing how many of them wanted to sleep with someone who had a small amount of fame and a whole lot of money. Finding a temporary partner was never a problem when he was through with one of his projects. But Hannah wasn’t like the women who were dazzled by his reputation and money, which made the idea of being with her that much more appealing.
And dangerous
. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than he was willing to give up the life he’d chosen.

Hannah’s hands skimmed around his waist and under his T-shirt. Her fingers splayed wide on the bare skin beneath and he groaned.