The Biggest Risk (The Whisper Lake Series Book 3)

by Anna Argent

  She took out her frustration in her work, pushing herself harder than was probably smart. She'd feel it tomorrow, but right now she didn't care. She needed this outlet too much to worry about a few sore muscles.

  The phone rang again, and this time it was the mechanic Declan calling.

  Hanna decided to answer this call, hoping for good news.

  "Nate said I could reach you on his phone," Declan said.

  "How's Rex?"

  "I'm afraid it's not good news."

  Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "How bad is he?"

  "Your neverspark went bad."

  "My what?"

  "It's the brain box that keeps the spark plugs sparking. Without it, the truck is toast."

  "Can you get a new one?" she asked, praying he could find parts for her old friend.

  "I can, but they're expensive. Or I can hit up my buddy who runs a salvage yard in KC and see what he's got. It'll be a lot cheaper that way."

  "How long will it take to get this box?"

  Declan hesitated. "Hard to say. Maybe a day or two if we're lucky."

  "And if we're not?"

  "I'll do the best I can, sweetheart, but I won't let you leave in a truck that isn't going to get you down the road. Which reminds me, you really need new tires, and your brakes aren't long for this world, either."

  "I know he needs some maintenance, and I swear I'll get to it as soon as I get a steady paycheck. All I need is for Rex to get me to Oklahoma City."

  A heavy sigh filled the line. "I understand. I'll see what my buddy can dig up and get back to you soon. Rex is in good hands."

  "Thanks, Declan. I really appreciate your help."

  "It's what I'm here for. Talk soon." He hung up.

  Hanna leaned her head against a cracked plaster wall and took three deep breaths to steady her nerves.

  She'd thought two weeks was plenty of time to get from Cincinnati to Oklahoma and still have time to scout out a place to live. She knew she'd be sleeping in Rex until her first paycheck, but she still needed somewhere to shower before work. A campground near town, maybe. A truck stop. She wasn't picky as long as she was clean.

  She was sure she'd have enough time to make a plan before she had to report for work, but now her optimism faltered.

  She was tired, lonely and homesick, though she had no idea why she'd miss what she'd left behind. Jack was a user asshole. Her sister was a pathological liar and drama queen. And her mom was a hot mess—jumping from man to man in search of the solution to all her problems.

  Hanna liked cock as much as the next red-blooded woman, but she'd never thought it could pay the rent or put food on the table the way Mom did.

  As soon as she thought about her mom, Hanna missed her. Sure, they didn't see eye-to-eye on much, but that blood bond was strong, and right now, she really wanted Mom to tell her everything was going to be okay.

  Surely Nate wouldn't mind if she made one call.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she dialed Mom.

  She answered on the sixth ring, her voice both curt and suspicious. Hanna could hear the sound of a soap opera in the background and wondered if Mom had lost her job again, or if she was just pretending to be at home sick.

  "Hi, Mom. It's Hanna."

  "Hanna, baby!" Her voice lifted to a happy cheer echoing with relief. "It's so good to hear from you. I was worried. How are you? Where are you?"

  "I'm good. Rex broke down in this little town called Whisper Lake, so I'm staying here while he gets fixed."

  "I told you that old piece of junk wouldn't make it halfway across the country. Are you safe?"

  "Perfectly safe."

  "You know how dangerous it can be in those little towns. They're all full of secrets."

  "Nothing so dramatic. It's just a small town. The people I've met seem to be decent. Nice and helpful."

  "Don't let them fool you, baby. You stay on your guard. Lots of serial killers hiding in the country. No one can hear their victims scream out there, you know."

  That was Mom—always sure the worst thing was just about to happen.

  "I'm being careful." And before Mom could scare her anymore, she asked, "How's the new job?"

  "Quit. Damn place wanted to tell me when I could take a break, as if my bladder answered to their clock. I won't put up with that kind of treatment."

  Hanna stifled a sigh. "Have you found a new job?"

  "I'm looking," she said, clearly lying. "This new guy moved into the apartment downstairs. He said he might have a job for me. And he's easy on the eyes."

  "Mom—"

  "Don't you start the lecture, young lady. I know you don't want me to have a man in my life, but I'm not too old to be lonely. A woman has needs."

  "Seriously, Mom? How many times have I told you that I really don't want to know about your needs. I'm more worried about you depending on some stranger for work when you don't even know what it is. What if it's like that time with Dan and he wants you to be one of his whores? Or Micky who thought you'd be great dealing meth for him? And let's not forget my favorite, Pedro, who was certain that selling dildos out of your house was going to make you both rich."

  "It's not like that. Wes is a deep thinker. He has ideas. Plans."

  "How long have you known him?"

  "I don't see how that matters. Haven't you ever met someone and instantly known them? Like your souls knew each other from before birth?"

  Hanna rubbed her temple and tried to ease the ache there. "Is he sober at least?"

  "He's working the steps. Got his one-week chip just yesterday."

  This was part of the reason Hanna had to leave Cincinnati. Mom was a total wreck, and no matter what Hanna did or said, Mom always went right back to old habits.

  "You know what those guys are like. Most of them drink again. Do you really want to be around when it happens?"

  "For your information, Wes doesn't have a drinking problem. Heroin is harder to come by, so I'm sure he'll stay strong."

  "Heroin? For the love of heaven, Mom, run from this man. Run and don't look back."

  "The way you ran from Jack? I don't give up on people the way you do, Hanna. Everyone should have a chance to turn their lives around."

  "Jack had plenty of chances, he just didn't want any of them. He likes being an asshole."

  "He treated you right. All those fancy dinners, the presents and jewelry he gave you…he deserved better than you gave him."

  "He bought all of those things with my money." Or at least her credit. He'd taken out several cards in her name and she hadn't found out until collectors started calling. By then their business had already gone south and she was losing clients right and left.

  It took her longer to learn why that was happening, but by the time she had, it was too late to save her company or her reputation.

  Mom's tone was dismissive. "Your money, his money. Whatever. You two were practically engaged."

  "No. We weren't. Not even close."

  "That's not the way he sees it. He still doesn't understand why you ran away from him. He loves you, Hanna."

  "You don't do the things he did to me out of love."

  "You should give him another chance. He's so handsome. Think of how cute your babies would be."

  The idea of having Jack's children turned her stomach. She had to breathe several times to get the rancid stench of that concept out of her system.

  "I need to go, Mom. I've got a job to finish. I suggest you find work, too."

  "You'll send Mama some money when you get settled, won't you, baby?" Her tone was singsong, almost childish, like a kid begging for a new toy.

  "No. I won't. I told you that I'm done bailing you out of your bad choices. Sounds like Wes is just one more in a long line."

  Mom's tone hardened. "Fine. Be that way. Your sister was always the sweet one. She'll give me what I need."

  The line went dead.

  Hanna wished she'd never called. Sometimes it was easier not knowing just how b
ad things were.

  Chapter Six

  Bonnie Grace waited for her husband in a quiet corner of the Rise and Shine Bakery. The owner, Beth Fortier and her niece Gemma were in the kitchen working, leaving the dining area of the small shop empty.

  The place was cozy, with starched eyelet lace curtains and crisp white tablecloths. As an homage to the past, the walls were decorated with antique quilts, cooking gadgets and old, sepia- toned photos in ornate frames.

  This bakery had been here since before Bonnie had married into the Grace family over thirty years ago, and every time she ate here, it reminded her of those first few dates with Doug in the early days of their romance.

  It had been a long time since she'd been that carefree girl with more dreams than sense, but she was constantly grateful that she'd been smart enough to snag such a good man.

  Doug was her everything, and even after all these years, her heart still beat faster knowing she was going to get to see him.

  He strode into the bakery with a tinkle of brass bells on the glass door. Sunlight outlined his tall, sturdy frame, and even though she couldn't see his shadowed face, she could tell by the line of his broad shoulders that he was smiling at her.

  Gemma—their son Saxon's girlfriend—poked her head out of the kitchen to see who'd arrived. Her hands were covered in suds. The apron she wore was damp and smudged with some kind of berries. She was beautiful in a classic way, both inside and out.

  When she saw it was Doug who'd arrived and not a customer in need of assistance, she waved a soapy hand, added a cheery hello, and ducked back into the kitchen to let them eat their lunch in privacy.

  Doug leaned down and kissed Bonnie's upturned cheek in greeting.

  Her pulse fluttered in the hollow of her throat and warmth suffused her skin.

  She was such a lucky woman.

  He sat down across from her, in front of the chicken salad sandwich she'd ordered for him. As the napkin when over his lap, he said, "That girl is going to be our daughter one day."

  Bonnie smiled at the idea. "The sooner, the better. Saxon found a good one and he should pin her down before she decides to go back to the big city."

  "I know you're eager for grandbabies, but let the kids find their own way, in their own time."

  "I'm fine with that as long as they hurry," Bonnie said.

  Doug chuckled and covered Bonnie's hand with his much bigger, much stronger one.

  She loved his hands, all tan and capable. Sure, they were more wrinkled than they used to be, and yes, he had a few age spots just starting to darken, but she didn't care. Those were the hands that had held hers as a girl, they'd built their house and countless others, they'd cuddled all four of their babies, and would one day do the same with their grandchildren.

  He pulled out his phone, powered it off as he always did for their brief lunches, and then picked up his sandwich.

  She sipped her iced tea. "Unfortunately, I don't have much time today. Lots of patients scheduled for this afternoon. We'll have to make this quick."

  Doug nodded as he chewed. "Let's start at the top and work our way down."

  "Sounds good," she agreed.

  As was their habit, they spent their lunches together dealing with family issues. From their parents to their children, they would touch on each one and make sure they were both informed of the latest developments, news and needs. As a doctor with a thriving medical practice and four children, and Doug an owner of a construction company, the two had adopted this ritual when the kids were still in diapers. It had served them well for years, and neither one seemed inclined to change it.

  "How are your parents?" he asked.

  "Mom's good. Fussing over Dad a lot."

  "Is he still having issues with his back?"

  She nodded as she took a bite of her quiche Loraine.

  Devine. Gemma Fortier certainly did know her way around an egg pie.

  "He is, but the physical therapy seems to be helping," Bonnie said. "As soon as he's done, they'd like to come for a visit."

  Doug flashed her an indulgent grin. "They're always welcome. I'll make sure to stock up on that cheese they like the next time I roll through Springfield."

  "Thank you. How is Alistair?"

  Doug's father was alone now, and while it had been a few years since his wife had died, he still seemed uninterested in making many changes. The house still looked the same as it had when she'd been alive, almost as if he believed she might be back any day.

  Doug toyed with a carrot stick. "He needs to stay busy, that's all."

  "Are you taking him fishing again this afternoon?"

  "Tomorrow. Now that Saxon is doing most of the day-to-day for Grace Construction, I have more free time. And since I can't spend it with my wife…."

  She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Your wife is busy helping the members of this community stay healthy. You'll just have to keep yourself occupied without me."

  "Dad is a poor substitute, but we are having a good time together. I want to enjoy him while I still can."

  Bonnie nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on her face. It was hard watching your parents age, hard having the certain knowledge that they wouldn't always be around. When she was younger, she never worried that her folks would die, but with age came wisdom, and that specific wisdom was darker than most.

  "I think you two should drive down to the Gulf Coast and get some deep-sea fishing in."

  "He'd love that. I'll see what I can arrange."

  "Next?" she asked.

  "Mason is my biggest concern."

  Their oldest son was in a bad place. His girlfriend of more than two years had been cheating on him, with a woman. And she'd stolen over forty thousand dollars from his fledgling company in the past year alone. Mason had kept all of this to himself, but the news leaked, as all news eventually did in a small town like this one.

  Bonnie nodded. "He's not returning my calls."

  "Or mine. Saxon said he checks in on him every few days, but that nothing has changed. He still wants his space."

  Bonnie's tone was sharp. "A mother can only tolerate giving her son so much space when she knows he's in pain. I need to make it better."

  "He's a grown man, honey. He doesn't want his mama fixing things."

  "You can't tell me that you weren't over there just this morning, looking for a way to do your own fixing."

  Doug blushed and look chagrined. "I'm a natural fixer. Besides, a son will tell his father things he won't tell his mother."

  "Are you saying you actually had a conversation with him?" she asked.

  "No," he admitted. "He wouldn't answer his door or his phone, but I'll keep trying. Until then, all we can do is be here for him when he's finally ready to talk."

  "Will he show up to your Dad's birthday party?"

  "I hope so. He loves his grandad enough that it might get him to surface."

  Bonnie covered Doug's hand. "We can't stop trying. Even if Mason doesn't want us around right now, one day he will. Until then, I fully intend to meddle as much as I see fit."

  "The kids would expect no less."

  "Okay. We'll table Mason. Saxon's next."

  Doug lowered his voice so as not to be heard by their son's girlfriend working just behind the wall. "I think we're good there. My guess is that Saxon is just about ready."

  "To propose?" Bonnie whispered, squirming with excitement.

  Doug nodded. "He's dead set on keeping that girl, and I honestly couldn't be happier."

  "Agreed. We'll finally get those grandbabies we've been wanting."

  He laughed at her. "You and your grandbabies. Please tell me you'll let them decide when it's right for them to start a family."

  "A mother is entitled to her opinions. Besides, we didn't wait for kids, and all four of ours have all turned out fantastic."

  "That they have." He finished off his sandwich and washed it down with iced tea. "That brings us to Nate. I'm worried about the direction of his business ven
tures."

  Bonnie sighed. "You know how you feel about me meddling in our children's procreation? That's how I feel about you meddling in our children's work. I know you love new construction, but Nate just doesn't have that same fire in his belly for it that you, Mason and Saxon do. He's always loved history and saving things that look past all hope. You can't fault him for pursuing his passions."

  "But there's so little profit in restoration. The time and money it takes him to restore an old house is far more than what it would cost him to build something new."

  "Yes, but he doesn't care about money. He never has. Besides, has he asked you for a dime?"

  "No." There was something in the way he said that single word that spoke volumes.

  "You offered him money, didn't you?" she asked.

  "I told him I'd fund a new project for him, but he had to give up on the Yellow Rose."

  Bonnie sighed. "That house is beautiful. I can't wait to see what he does with it."

  "It should be bulldozed. There's enough land there to build at least six houses."

  "For whom? There aren't exactly a line of people waiting to move to Whisper Lake, unless the house is waterfront. Which that one isn't."

  "He'll never find a buyer for it—not one willing to pay what he'll have in it once it's all said and done."

  "Let the boy be, Doug. He's got the motel as an income stream and he's happy. Isn't that enough?"

  "It should be, but he's got so much talent, I hate to see him squander it."

  "I'd say he's doing just the opposite. It's far harder to fix an old house than it is to build a new one—you've always said that. How is doing the hard thing with one's talent squandering it?"

  Doug sighed. "I suppose you're right."

  "Flora says he hired that woman he found on the side of the road last night. She's out at the Yellow Rose right now, picking up trash."

  "I'm glad someone's cleaning up that eyesore."

  Bonnie shook her head. "You don't get it. Flora says this girl is Nate's new project."

  Doug groaned. "Not again. That kid never seems to learn his lesson, does he?"

  "He's got a big heart. And he's not a kid anymore, Doug. He's twenty-eight, runs a solid business, and helps out in his community. Maybe it's time we extend him the courtesy of trusting his judgment. It's not like he's hung on to any of the women he's rescued."