Читать книгу Jake's Biggest Risk - Julianna Morris, Julianna Morris - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHE NEXT MORNING, Jake woke as the sun was rising and realized he had fallen asleep on the couch.
He was stiff, but some of the pain had subsided and a fine view greeted him through the windows overlooking the lake. The snowcapped peaks beyond were reflected on the water’s surface and he stared out for a while. Where was his impulse to capture the view in a unique way? Taking pictures had been his driving force since childhood, yet he had zero desire to start working.
God.
Maybe it was too pretty. That must be the problem. Why he’d ever agreed to doing a damned book on the northern Cascade Mountains was beyond him. The Cascades had been photographed to death; there was nothing new or unusual about them. He was going to be bored out of his skull.
But even more important...how was he going to put his trademark adventurous stamp on the book? The thought of people rolling their eyes and saying he’d lost his touch because of the accident was unacceptable. And he’d already faced that scenario once before.
Jake gritted his teeth.
He had never intended to be a traditional photojournalist. He’d gone to the Middle East to help out an acquaintance whose wife was having a difficult pregnancy, but after receiving the Pulitzer, at least a dozen interviewers had asked, “How will you top this?” Hell, “topping” pictures of people killing each other was the last thing he was interested in doing.
His stomach rumbled and he got up.
Andy had insisted they stop and buy groceries in Mahalaton Lake, so Jake made his standby in all climates and altitudes—a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. It wasn’t inspiring, but cooking was not one of his skills. He always kept peanut butter in his backpack while traveling, and it wasn’t bad on most local breads.
Munching on the sandwich, he wandered around the lodge. The spacious sunroom off the kitchen had tall windows on three sides, providing a view of the lake, the guesthouse and the wooded drive leading in from the road. A huge master bedroom suite was on the opposite side of the house. Other main floor rooms included a well-equipped utility room, two powder rooms, a library and formal dining area. Upstairs there were additional bedrooms and baths, with a family room in the center, and beneath the house was a half basement that provided storage.
It was far more space than Jake needed, but had the benefit of being outside a town, and the natural wood beams and high ceilings gave it a relaxed, faintly rustic feel. And there were artifacts scattered here and there from around the world, such as jade carvings, masks from various tribes and pottery. In a curious way it was soothing to be surrounded by some of the things he’d seen in his travels. Perhaps that was why Andy had urged him to lease the lodge.
Slowly he began sorting out his equipment and other supplies. The cameras he’d taken to Alaska had been destroyed in the crash, but Toby had personally brought Jake’s backup gear from the studio he kept in Costa Rica.
Toby...
A reluctant grin creased Jake’s mouth. Toby had bitched his usual stream of complaints, saying the magazine was willing to wait for its photos since they didn’t have any “goddamned choice,” and if Jake planned to go back to that frigging place, he was going alone.
This time it actually sounded as if he meant it.
Even so, Jake had expected he’d come along to Mahalaton Lake until Toby had sheepishly confessed that he and Vera were getting married in a few weeks and he was starting another job. Marriage was a career ender as far as Jake was concerned, at least for any career that involved extensive travel. Vera was a terrific woman, but she’d made it clear often enough that she wanted Toby at home.
Jake rubbed his face, rough with beard stubble, and stepped to the bank of windows. The day was lighter now, though the sky was still pink from the sunrise. The dog he’d seen the previous day was racing along the shore below, his fur flying in silky waves. It stopped, grabbed a stick in its mouth and ran back to its human companion—presumably Hannah Nolan.
He grimaced. An apology was in order; he’d behaved with the grace of an ill-tempered water buffalo. He let himself out a side door and walked down the grassy slope toward his landlady. The dog noticed him first, dropping his stick and hurrying to his mistress’s side.
“Did you have a good night, Mr. Hollister?” Hannah asked politely when he got within earshot.
“Good enough.”
He’d slept for eleven straight hours on the wide leather couch—much longer than he would have in the hospital with their constant health checks. Getting chilled and stiff from his position on the sofa was his own fault.
Jake gestured to the golden retriever who was regarding him suspiciously. “Who is this?”
Hannah put her hand on the animal’s head and stroked it. “His name is Badger. But don’t worry—I won’t let him come into Huckleberry Lodge.”
“He’s welcome. I like dogs. Where is your son?”
“Still in bed. Danny isn’t a morning person.”
“Neither am I,” Jake said absently.
Her lips pressed together in a flat line and he wondered what she wanted to say—it was amusing the way she was obviously trying to guard her tongue.
“Anyway,” he continued, “let me apologize for yesterday. I didn’t behave well.”
“Okay. You’ve apologized.”
“Uh...how far do you have to go from here to see any wildlife?” Jake asked, despite her flat response. It wouldn’t hurt to be on decent terms with his landlady.
Hannah’s face became less guarded. “Actually, you can sit on the deck and see a whole range of birds and mammals. I’ve spotted almost everything except bears and mountain lions.”
“That’s promising. I also noticed a couple of trails leading away from the lodge. Where do they go?”
The retriever yipped and she patted him again. “The one to the south leads into town, winding back and forth between the water and woods. The north trail is similar, but it’s rougher, with far more ups and downs. It extends around the lake to Mount Mahala.”
Jake looked at the snowcapped peak behind the water. “I’m guessing it would take a while to reach the mountain.”
A grin tugged at her mouth and he suddenly became aware of her as a woman. He still didn’t have any hint of Hannah’s figure, but if it matched her smile, he could be in trouble. Making a move on a woman with a child was a bad idea—in his experience, they were usually looking for commitment, and that wasn’t something he would ever be willing to offer.
“You’re right—it’s much farther than it appears. You can’t see it from here, but there’s a spur of the lake that goes way north beyond that point.” Hannah gestured to an outcropping of land covered by tall evergreens.
“What made you smile just now?” he asked curiously.
“A memory. When I was a kid I decided I could hike to the mountain all on my own. My parents didn’t argue, but Dad followed a few hundred feet behind me. We spent the night out there, not even a quarter of the way, with my feet hurting like mad. Not that I admitted it.”
And Jake would bet she was just as stubborn now. That kind of obstinacy wasn’t something people typically outgrew.
“I take it you grew up in the area,” he commented.
“Except for four years at college, I’ve always lived here.”
“Hell, I could never stay in one place for so long.” It wasn’t until Jake saw the look on Hannah’s face that he realized how rude he must have sounded...again. “Sorry. I’m a born wanderer.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then you must be dreading the next twelve months.”
“That’s an understatement. I just want to get past this damned accident and have my life back.”
Nobody understood how he felt except Josie, and she was back in the Andes—or maybe she’d gone somewhere else by now. The doctors had preached patience, Matt’s attitude was that it was only a year and Andy was just pleased that his client had finally agreed to do a book based in the United States.
But Jake didn’t want a conventional existence; he wanted what he’d had before the plane crash—international travel, seeing new places, his photography...and as few complications as possible.
“It isn’t because of your house,” Jake added hastily. “The lodge is great. Why aren’t you living there, instead of in the guesthouse?”
“It’s too expensive on a teacher’s salary. It makes more sense to rent it out and live in Silver Cottage.”
“But surely you get child support,” he said. Before leaving the day before, Andy had explained she was divorced. Jake had gotten the impression that his friend was attracted to Hannah. Not that it would go anywhere. Andy was an excellent agent, skilled at professional negotiations, but he was notoriously inept in his personal life.
Hannah’s green eyes narrowed. “My son’s father and his financial contributions are a private matter.”
“Well, yeah. That is, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Whatever.” She turned and hurried away. Badger followed with a glance over his shoulder, clearly warning Jake to watch his step.
Jake groaned.
He hadn’t meant to be inquisitive, but even his father had never skipped out on financial responsibility for his kids. And S. S. Hollister was generally considered one of the most irresponsible men on the planet, with children and ex-wives all around the world.
Of course, Jake’s mother wasn’t one of S. S. Hollister’s ex-wives. Josie had refused to marry “Sully” as she called him...probably the only woman to turn down one of his marriage proposals, though she’d agreed to give their son the Hollister name and let Sully set up a trust fund. The trust fund had been a huge concession for Josie, who considered money a necessary evil.
Evil or not, Jake found his trust fund useful. From the very start of his career he’d been able to choose his assignments based on interest rather than just the need to pay bills. The money had also meant he could purchase the finest photographic gear that money could buy.
Unfortunately, no amount of money could repair his injuries. Only time would do that. The doctors were optimistic, yet nobody could guarantee he would recover enough to go back to the life he loved, and it scared the hell out of him.
* * *
AS HANNAH MARCHED back to Silver Cottage, she realized she’d overreacted. Admittedly, she was still annoyed by Jake’s behavior toward Danny, but she didn’t have to be so sensitive. She needed to remember the monthly rent check she was getting. The amount Jake was paying should make his abrasive qualities easier to handle.
She went inside and checked on Danny; he was still asleep, sprawled across his bed with childish abandon.
A faint whine came from Badger, and she rubbed him behind the ears. “Patience, boy. He’ll be awake later.”
The golden retriever was a tireless, protective playmate for Danny. Hannah kept a close watch on her son, but it was reassuring to have the golden retriever as a second pair of eyes; he wouldn’t even let Danny get near the water except when an adult was nearby.
Badger padded into the room and jumped on the bed. Danny rolled over in his sleep, flung his arm across the retriever’s neck and buried his face in his pillow.
Hannah drifted into the living room, annoyed with herself for mentioning her finances to Jake Hollister. It was none of his concern how she met her expenses, and neither was the question of child support from her ex. Steven wasn’t a pleasant subject at the best of times—they’d gotten married during her senior year of college and were already divorced by the following Christmas.
The part that continued to puzzle her was how she hadn’t recognized what kind of a person he was earlier. Somehow she’d convinced herself they were the next great love story only to discover how quickly it fell apart in the face of infidelity and other problems. Thinking she’d been blinded by romance wasn’t any comfort; lots of people fell in love but didn’t marry someone utterly wrong for them.
The phone rang and Hannah hurried to answer. The caller ID showed it was Brendan Townsend, and she smiled as she picked up. “Hi, Brendan.”
“Good morning, Hannah. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I just got back from walking Badger. You know me—I’m up with the sun, same as you.”
It was one of the ways they were alike—she’d finally agreed to go out with Brendan because of what they had in common. She didn’t have a list of dating requirements, but it was important not to start caring for someone who didn’t share her belief in commitment.
She still hoped to find the passionate love she’d wanted her entire life but couldn’t afford to break her heart over the wrong man again. She wasn’t sure how many more times it could heal.
Brendan chuckled. “I drove my college roommate crazy getting up so early. He was the party-hearty type and never went to bed before 3:00 a.m.”
“Did he flunk out?”
“Amazingly, no. He’s the multimillionaire owner of a computer software company. They create fantasy games.”
“Impressive. Maybe you shouldn’t have settled for law school,” she said with a laugh.
“Not at all. I wouldn’t have met you if I wasn’t a lawyer.” The tone in Brendan’s voice was warm and she squirmed. He wanted their relationship to move much faster than she did. But even if her marriage hadn’t taught her caution, she needed to be careful because of Danny.
“That’s a nice thing to say. What’s up?” she asked briskly.
“It’s short notice, but would you like to go out tonight? We haven’t been able to see much of each other lately.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I have plans,” Hannah said regretfully. It had been several weeks since they’d gotten together and she would have enjoyed talking to a sane adult male. “Barbi Paulson is coming over.”
“Barbi Paulson?” Brendan repeated with obvious surprise. “The pizza-delivery woman?”
“She’s a friend. We’re going to...uh, watch a movie or something.” Hannah couldn’t explain that she was tutoring Barbi for her GED exam—Barbi might prefer to keep that information private.
“Maybe we can go another day. What’s on tonight’s menu? You’re such a wonderful cook, I’m envious.”
“No call for envy. I’ll probably do macaroni and cheese. It’s easy, Danny likes it and Barbi isn’t coming until after dinner.”
After they said goodbye, Hannah sat at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee. The sun was fully up now and she gazed out, loving the changing view. Honestly, she didn’t think there was anything more beautiful than the Cascade Mountains.
Finally she opened one of the adult-study manuals she’d gotten from the school district office. She taught elementary-age children, and it had been years since she’d looked at the high school curriculum. It wouldn’t bolster Barbi’s confidence about taking the GED test if her tutor wasn’t familiar with the material.
* * *
BRENDAN WENT BACK to work at his desk, disappointed that his great plan to sweep Hannah off for the evening had failed. He would have thought that in a quiet place like Mahalaton Lake, with only a few thousand people and her parents available for babysitting, they wouldn’t have trouble getting together, but she was so busy it was a challenge.
Yet as he dealt with his email, he formulated a plan—if Hannah didn’t have enough time to go to dinner, he would take dinner to her. He’d surprise her by bringing something from Luigi’s, and leave when Barbi arrived.
Hmm.
He frowned thoughtfully.
Barbi Paulson and Hannah?
The two women couldn’t be more different. Luigi’s was the only restaurant in town that delivered, and he ordered regularly from them on weekends. While Barbi didn’t mouth off when she brought his pizza, she wore garish, low-cut outfits that were always a little too tight and a little too short. She even managed to be eye-popping in the winter when she wore things like hot pink ski pants and equally colorful parkas.
With a shake of his head, Brendan reviewed his appointment schedule. It was far less full than when he’d practiced law in Seattle. Relocating to Mahalaton Lake the previous year might be the only impulsive decision he’d made in his entire life, but it had seemed right at the time.
Yet even as he thought about it, he felt a pang of sorrow, remembering the woman he’d once hoped to marry.
Maria had been an associate in his high-pressure Seattle law firm, but she’d died suddenly of a brain aneurism. The other partners hadn’t appeared troubled by the loss; they’d simply divvied up Maria’s client list between them. Yet Brendan had been devastated. For the first time he’d questioned the sanity of working more than a hundred hours a week. Maria had been having headaches and dizzy spells, but she wouldn’t even take time off to see a doctor—success came before marriage, before kids, before everything.
What sort of life was that? Hell, it wasn’t a life. She was gone at thirty-one.
At first he’d tried to cut back his hours—much to the displeasure of the head of the firm, who’d “suggested” resuming his original schedule or finding other options for practicing law. About the same time Maria’s father had told him he was trying to sell his law firm in Mahalaton Lake. Brendan had visited the town a couple of times with Maria, and the idea of completely changing his scenery had caught his imagination. He’d quickly purchased David Walther’s shabby practice and moved.
Of course, in Seattle, he’d also dreamed about Maria every night, hearing her voice urging him over and over to go to Mahalaton Lake. Moving to a small town might seem unusual, but moving because of dreams? He’d never dared tell anyone about that.
Brendan glanced around the office, no longer shabby now that he’d had it redone. The only thing left from David Walther’s days was a carved wood plaque saying, “Work to live, don’t live to work.” He’d kept it as a reminder of the reasons he’d made such a huge change in his life. Maria hadn’t learned the lesson from her father, but maybe he could.
A career here wasn’t going to make Brendan rich, but it wasn’t a bad life, at least for a while. No matter what the reasons, moving to Mahalaton Lake had been a good decision. It was in his professional capacity that he’d met Hannah—she’d asked him to review her rental paperwork for the lodge.
All at once Brendan straightened his tie and checked his cuff links. Life was more casual in Mahalaton Lake than in the city, but he came from a long line of attorneys and had been raised to do things in a certain way. He’d rebelled to a certain extent, but there were some things he couldn’t abandon.
* * *
THE DAY PASSED slowly for Jake. Part of the time he slept, and part of the time he did the exercises the physical therapist in Seattle had taught him. He was starting to understand why the specialists had recommended a couple of weeks in a rehab center, but inactivity wasn’t something he handled well. Freedom had beckoned, even the freedom of a small American town.
Anyway, he had arranged for a therapist from a nearby community to come to Huckleberry Lodge twice a week. It was well worth the expense of having them come to him rather than dragging himself to the clinic.
Jake finally loaded up his computer and began looking through the shots from northern Alaska. It was time to confront his memories of the crash. The photos taken on days before the accident didn’t bother him...a lone male polar bear hunting for seals, one climbing from the frigid sea with water streaming from its fur, another moving with long, purposeful strides. And still more of daily life in the Inupiat village where they’d stayed part of the time.
Then a shot of Gordon popped up and took Jake off guard.
The pilot’s weathered features were creased in a smile and he was lifting a cup of coffee to his mouth. Jake stared for several minutes before clicking on the next image. Several dozen photos later there were more of Gordon, playing with Inupiat children, and others of him talking with the elder members of the community.
Jake had almost forgotten that he’d taken these pictures. He didn’t often take photos of people, but the magazine had suggested it would be nice if his Arctic photographic study could include some of the tools used by the Inupiat for hunting. As a kind of lazy exercise, he’d wandered around, interested by the juxtaposition of modern and age-old technology in use. Pictures of people had inevitably crept in.
His nerves tightened further as he pulled up the images from the day of the crash. The doctors had asked about the accident and he’d refused to answer. Assuming it was because he couldn’t remember, they’d said not to worry, that it was common to block everything out after a trauma. Yet it wasn’t that at all.
Jake’s memories of that day were crystal clear—he sometimes wished he couldn’t remember. He still could feel the purity of the air and hear the sound of ice cracking, along with the noises from the bears and the crunch of their boots as they returned to the plane. And he could see Gordon’s gray face, his bluish fingernails, the snow getting closer, the painful impact...and the realization that the old bush pilot hadn’t survived.
It wasn’t the first time Jake had seen death. When he was a boy, half of his mother’s climbing party had died when they’d tried to climb Sagarmatha—Mount Everest to most people outside Nepal, except the Tibetans, who called it Chomolungma. At eight, he’d been too young to do anything except stay in base camp, but he would never forget the blanket-draped stretchers waiting for transport and Josie’s silence as she sat with a cup of coffee and gazed into the distance.
Two of the bodies hadn’t been recovered. The climbers had died on the upper slopes where the air was so thin that anyone making the attempt would be risking their own lives.
Pushing darker thoughts away, Jake mentally evaluated the collection of photos. Since the magazine still wanted him to complete his assignment, returning to Alaska would be his first real effort once he was back to full strength. He didn’t count the picture book on the northern Cascades as genuine work—it was mostly to keep himself from going crazy until things were normal again.
Late in the afternoon Jake was working in the bright, airy room off the kitchen when a car pulling into the driveway caught his attention. The expensive, late-model sedan was out of place in the natural setting, and the same was also true of the man who climbed out with a bouquet of red roses in one hand and two white sacks in the other.
Uptight, Jake decided. Obviously conventional, wearing a suit and tie and sporting a short, conservative haircut.
Hannah Nolan came down the stairs, her long chestnut hair shining with red glints in the afternoon sun, and Jake leaned forward to get a better look.
Nice.
While he hadn’t been able to distinguish much about her figure in their previous encounters, right now she was wearing snug jeans and a T-shirt that nicely displayed her feminine curves.
The sight reminded him that he hadn’t died in the airplane crash. Sex was fundamental to the survival instinct, and Hannah Nolan was a very sexy woman.
Jake grinned. His apology and attempt at small talk had gone badly that morning, but he’d enjoyed his landlady’s response. She hadn’t humored him the way everyone else had been doing since the accident, saying what they thought he wanted to hear. She’d gotten mad and let him know she was pissed.
Was she as frankly honest with her visitor? She appeared surprised to see the newcomer, but it obviously wasn’t her ex-husband, who Jake suspected fell into the deadbeat-father category.
The stuffed shirt handed Hannah the flowers and bent down for a kiss that landed awkwardly when she turned her head at the last moment. Courting customs varied around the world, but it was a good guess they hadn’t arrived at the lover stage. After another few words, they went up the steps into the guesthouse.
Though he was getting hungry again, Jake decided to stay in the sunroom to see if anything else happened. Aside from Hannah’s undeniable visual appeal, the whole exchange hadn’t been particularly interesting, but after spending so much time confined to a hospital, his standards for entertainment weren’t high these days.
