by Regan Black
“Hi,” he whispered.
Hannah stopped short. Looked at him and Laura, then at Lucky. Climbed up on the couch next to Lucky and started to pet the dog. “It’s time for pancakes,” she announced.
Laura’s eyelashes fluttered. She made some noise, maybe an mmm-hmm.
“Laura!” Hannah said, evidently not happy with the response.
He put his finger up to his lips to quiet her, but it was too late. Laura’s eyes were wide open and by the look in them, she was quite aware that they were entangled. She started unwinding.
“Morning,” he said. “Ouch, careful,” he warned. He gently moved her hand.
Laura, in her haste to get vertical, had come close to shoving the heel of her palm into an area where she could do some damage.
“Sorry,” she muttered, sitting up so fast that had he not been prepared for it, she might have knocked her head into his nose.
“No problem. Sleep well?” he asked, smiling.
She blushed. It was really quite adorable.
But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she focused her attention on Hannah. “Good morning, honey. How are you?”
“Hungry,” Hannah said.
“Of course you are,” she said. “How about I get you an orange and you can eat it first. Then maybe watch your movie for a few minutes. After that, we’ll have pancakes.”
“I sense a ploy to have time for coffee?” he whispered.
She narrowed her pretty green eyes. “Some people rely upon coffee.”
“And you shouldn’t trust those who don’t,” he said.
That got him his first smile. “Not completely.” She stood, stretching her body. She’d worn leggings and a loose shirt to bed, and last night it had been too dark for him to fully appreciate how she looked in them. She was in great shape with long legs and a lean upper body.
She walked into his kitchen and started a pot of coffee. He followed her. “Would you like tea?” she asked.
“Thank you.” He grabbed an orange from the refrigerator and peeled it. Then broke it into sections. “Does she like it on a plate?”
“A paper towel is fine. Thanks…for your help.”
“Happy to do whatever I can to mitigate any delay in the pancake making,” he said. He delivered the orange to Hannah and got a distracted thank you, because she was watching something on Laura’s computer. He crossed back over into the kitchen area and took a seat at the table.
She held her cup under the streaming coffee, evidently unwilling to wait for the pot to finish. Then she took a sip before coming to sit with him. “We probably have a few minutes before she starts throwing orange slices our direction, demanding her pancakes.”
She was teasing. “Seems as if her parents have done a nice job with her. She’s very polite. I imagine they miss her when they’re traveling.”
“Of course,” she said.
The guarded look was back in her eyes. He was confident she had no idea that she was so easy to read. Or maybe he was just good at it. That’s why his partners said that he was the best one to negotiate with potential customers. He could read people well, knew the right thing to ask, the right thing to say that would clinch a deal.
Knew how to politely steer those that looked as if they were going to be more trouble than they were worth out the door and onto the next unsuspecting agency. Well, almost always. He’d made a mistake with Mora Rambeilla.
His partner Seth Pike, whose conversational skills were sometimes limited to a grunt here or there, accused that he could make conversation with a fence post. He always corrected the man and said it wasn’t a liability to be able to talk to anyone about something.
He decided this was one of those times. He wanted to remove all traces of wariness from Laura’s pretty eyes. “So just how do you make these amazing pancakes?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s nothing I do. It’s the magic ingredients.”
“Magic? I’m not sure I recall seeing magic on the grocery list.”
“It sells under many names. Butter. Flour. Sugar. Some more sugar.”
“Oh, heart disease magic,” he said knowingly.
“Exactly.” She smiled. “And maybe I should worry about that on Hannah’s behalf, but I just can’t work up the energy right now.”
“Even after coffee?”
“Even then,” she said. She got up from the table and started adding ingredients to a large mixing bowl. Flour. Oil. Baking soda. Eggs. Milk. Dash of vanilla.
He got up and pulled blueberries out of the refrigerator. And a couple apples. Set the blueberries aside but quickly peeled the apples, sliced them, and put them in a pan. Added some brown sugar, cinnamon and a little butter. Turned the heat on medium.
“You don’t mind if I offer a variation or two?” he asked.
“Don’t be disappointed if it goes over like a lead balloon.”
He waved away her concern. “There should be a griddle in that cupboard.”
“You really have everything here, don’t you?” she said, her tone amazed.
He just had things. But Laura and Hannah being in the cabin seemed to bring the things alive, made them fun versus functional.
She coated the electric griddle with cooking spray and turned it on high. When she dropped the pancake batter in, it sizzled.
“Pancakes in five minutes,” she said to Hannah. “Go wash your hands and have a seat at the table.” The little girl practically ran to the bathroom.
Rico washed about half the blueberries. “Mind if I add a few of these to some of them?”
“Not at all. I love blueberry pancakes.”
He pretended surprise. “I think blueberries might be a fruit?”
Hannah, who had come out of the bathroom, frowned at him. “Of course they’re a fruit. You don’t know very much, Rico.”
He picked up the little girl and made her squeal. “I know that little girls like to be tickled.” He had her laughing in seconds and she didn’t stop until Laura set the first batch of pancakes on the table. He noticed that she’d given her one with the blueberries.
“Aha, guilty of sneaking in a few nutrients, I see,” he said.
“As charged,” she agreed.
He put Hannah on a chair. She immediately picked up her fork.
“Want to try some apple topping?” he asked.
The child shrugged. She had pancakes. Everything else was inconsequential. “I guess.”
He put a dollop of the fresh apple topping atop her cake. And watched while she took a bite.
“Good,” Hannah said.
Rico had known success before but none quite that sweet. “Laura?” he asked, spoon in the air.
She held out her plate in response.
And they ate breakfast like a regular family. And Rico, who had never thought too much about marriage, suddenly found himself thinking how much fun it might be to have breakfast every morning with his wife. His child.
He had a big table, plenty of room for a couple kids.
“You’re smiling,” Laura said. “Pretty proud of yourself?”
Better to let her think that than to know the truth. She was already skittish—he didn’t want to send her running into the storm.
“Small victories are sometimes how a war is won,” he said.
* * *
War. She supposed that was what she’d declared when her access to Hannah had been cut off by Ariel, Joe’s widow. To have suddenly discovered that she had a niece, and then to be told that she couldn’t see her, had been horrific. She’d been very angry with Ariel.
The timeline was crazy. Joe had died in January. Ariel had remarried just months later. Of course, Laura had known nothing about either event or about Hannah until the small life insurance payment had arrived at her apartment in Memphis in May. She’d immediately traveled to Nashvill
e, but Ariel had refused to let her see Hannah.
Maybe it was because of Joe; maybe it was because of the new husband; maybe it was simply that Ariel was a bitch. Laura was never going to know because Ariel had been dead less than a month later.
And that had propelled Laura into action.
And here she was, seventy-four days later, on the run with Hannah.
Who had finished her entire pancake. “Can we go outside now?” the child asked.
Laura had been expecting the question. Truth be told, she was also a little excited about the idea. She’d snow skied in Montana when she was in college and she could still remember the feeling of being in the mountains, in feet of fresh snow.
“And make a snow family?” Hannah asked.
“We’ll give it our best shot,” Laura said. Hopefully Rico had been right the previous night and it was good snow for packing. “Let me get the dishes washed and then we’ll get dressed.”
“I’ve got it,” Rico said.
She shook her head. “That wasn’t the arrangement. I’m supposed to be here to help.”
“One small pass from KP duty doesn’t undermine your position as chief fetcher and getter. Come on. I think Hannah’s going to bust if she doesn’t get out there soon.”
Laura laughed. He was right. The little girl had gotten down from her chair and was jumping up and down next to the table. Laura would be doing Rico a favor if she got her out of the cabin quickly.
Quickly and snow pants were not synonymous, and it was a full fifteen minutes later before she had Hannah dressed to go outside. She left her standing by the front window. “Two minutes,” she said. All she had to do was pull on her jeans and a coat.
When she walked down the hall, Rico was standing there. “Hey, I bought these the other day and I picked out the wrong size. But they’d be perfect for you.”
She took the packages. Long underwear. A sweatshirt. Definitely in her size.
“What will you wear?”
He waved a hand. “I’ve got a few things here.”
And it dawned on her that of course he did. He had everything at the cabin. He hadn’t bought the items for himself to begin with. They’d always been for her.
Her throat felt tight. He wanted her to be warm.
“I appreciate them,” she said. “Very much.”
He just smiled. She went into her bedroom and finished getting dressed, marveling at how she had happened to stumble upon the nicest guy in Colorado.
Who had no idea that he was still being lied to.
That made the pancakes in her stomach turn sour. But it couldn’t be helped. Right now, the priority was protecting Hannah. If somebody was told a few lies along the way, that was just the price to be paid.
When she walked back into the living room, she saw that Rico was also wearing a coat and boots. “Lucky asked if we could come along,” he said.
“Your dog talks?” Hannah asked, her voice filled with awe.
Rico shook his head. “Not really. But I can sort of read his mind.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “My dada used to say that he could read my mind. And that he could see trouble brewing.”
Laura felt her throat close. Joe used to tell her the same thing. “Let’s go,” she said, maybe a little too loudly because Lucky barked in response.
She opened the door and ushered the little girl out. Rico and Lucky followed. She turned back to look. “Are you taking your crutches?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Ankle is feeling pretty good this morning. Plus, I think they’d be more of a hindrance than a help.”
“Be careful,” she said. It was a full-blown winter wonderland outside. Snow clung to the limbs of the big tall pines, to the fence at the far end of the property and to the post of Rico’s mailbox. It was smooth and swirled and stacked—as if the wind had been dancing, sometimes in a waltz, sometimes in a cha-cha, across the mountain.
It smelled…delicious. Fresh and clean, and she understood why Lucky was rolling around in it.
And when she didn’t think it could be more perfect, two bald eagles swooped across the sky, wings spread wide, dipping in tandem, showing off, their white heads and yellow beaks a stark contrast to their dark bodies. “Oh, my God,” she said.
Rico laughed. “Spectacular, right?” he said. “Almost as common in Colorado as the wild turkey.”
“Snowman, snowman,” Hannah chanted.
Laura knelt down and showed her how to ball up the snow in her hands. And how to add to it to make a bigger ball. But as she expected, Hannah soon lost interest, preferring to simply roll around in the snow.
Lucky thought that was a trick done especially for him and he joined in. Child and dog were having the time of their lives.
Laura’s heart felt lighter than it had in days, maybe even months, since she’d made the decision to move to Nashville and get a job at Hannah’s daycare. Since she’d decided to lie her way into her niece’s life.
“Want some help?” Rico asked.
She had the base of the snowman done. “Can you do his middle and I’ll do the head?”
“Race ya,” Rico said, kneeling in the snow.
They finished their respective balls at about the same time, although his had better shape. They stacked them. “Look, Hannah, your snowman,” Laura said.
“He doesn’t have any eyes,” Hannah said. “How can he see?”
“She has a point,” Rico said. He found two pinecones and pushed them into the head. The round protruding ends made perfect eyes. “I’ll get a carrot from inside for the nose. And some radishes for the mouth.”
“I knew all those vegetables were going to come in handy,” Laura said.
In response, he threw a snowball at her.
Hannah saw it, realized it was a new game, shrieked and started flinging snow.
Lucky barked.
And Laura fired back, four years of high school softball kicking in. When she caught Rico square in the chest, his head jerked up.
“Didn’t see that coming,” he said, his smile broad.
“Third base. State champions my senior year.”
“Oh, yeah. Left field. Didn’t need no stinking third baseman to relay my throws to home plate.” He reached down to grab a handful of snow. But before he could get it off, Hannah sent a handful toward his face.
“Hey, I’m being double-teamed,” he yelled.
“We’re a team and you’re double,” Hannah said.
Laura laughed so hard that she fell down. Which Lucky took as an invitation to play and launched himself into the air. Laura saw the dog coming and rolled over into the snow. When his body connected, it knocked the air out of her.
She heard Rico’s sharp command to his dog and the weight lifted. Seconds later, a hand on her shoulder gently flipped her over. “Are you hurt?”
Rico was on his knees next to her, his face tight with concern. She motioned him close, as if she couldn’t speak loudly. He leaned forward.
Then she reached up, hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him down into the snow. She miscalculated a bit, or maybe he gave way too easily, but in any event, their combined weight sent them rolling down the snowy hill. Over and over. Rico’s hand at the back of her head, protecting her.
When they finally stopped, she was flat on her back and breathless. She was staring at the deep blue sky.
She could hear Lucky barking and Hannah laughing.
And thought it was a perfect sound.
She looked at Rico. He was propped on one elbow, staring at her. He had snow on his dark eyelashes, in his hair. His skin was ruddy from cold. He looked…too serious.
She moved her arms and legs in the familiar pattern. “Snow angel?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Snow devil,” he whispered. “Beautiful, beautiful, snow witch.”
Then he leaned toward her and kissed her.
His lips should have been cold, but they were not.
And when she opened her mouth, he deepened the kiss. Dark heat. Sweet with an edge. Consuming.
“Laura!” Hannah yelled.
Rico lifted his head. Scanned the hill. “She’s fine,” he assured her.
Laura scrambled to sit up. Hannah was running down the hill, Lucky running in circles around her.
Laura still felt disoriented—not from the roll down the hill but from the kiss. But when Hannah got to her, Laura opened her arms and the little girl fell into them. Laura hugged her tight.
And she might have been content to remain outside in the snow forever, had she not heard the sound of an approaching engine. “Someone’s coming,” she said.
Her heart started racing. She awkwardly stood up, Hannah in her arms. Judged the distance to the house.
“Stay behind me,” Rico ordered, his calm voice penetrating her instant panic.
She saw his gun in his hand. Had he been expecting trouble?
Two snowmobiles came around the corner of the trees to their left. They were big loud machines, both with decals of an American flag across the front end.
She could hear the subtle change in his breathing. “It’s okay,” Rico said. “I know them.” He put his gun away.
There were three people altogether, two on one snowmobile and one on the other. Now at closer range, she could see that there were two adults and one child. When they turned off the engines, the air seemed very quiet in comparison.
When the adults got off, they moved slowly. The child ran ahead of them.
All three of them wore black snowmobile suits and black helmets. When they got close and removed their helmets, Laura saw that it was an older man and woman, with a little girl, who looked to be a year or two older than Hannah.
The older woman made a point of looking up the hill, at the tracks left by her and Rico’s rolling down and the foot and paw prints left by Hannah and Lucky. “Some people use a sled,” she said.
Rico nodded. “I knew there was something I forgot,” he said. Then he leaned in for a quick hug from the woman and shook hands with the man. “What the hell are you two doing?”
“Checking on neighbors,” the woman said. She extended a hand in Laura’s direction. “I’m Jennie Jones and this is Paddie and my granddaughter, Ari. I own the grocery store, about halfway down the mountain.”
