The Most Wonderful Time

by Fern Michaels

  “No one knows better than I do how lucky I am. I was there, Hannah, with a front-row seat to the carnage. The things I saw . . . There’s nothing wrong with me trying to get back to who I was before the bomb.”

  “As long as you don’t kill yourself doing it.”

  “Ever hear the proverb: ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’?” He sat up.

  “I suppose it’s good to have goals as long as you don’t reinjure yourself.”

  “I’ve gotta goal.” His lips slid up into a conspiratorial grin. “I want to ski Royal Slope on Christmas Day.”

  Hannah looked at him like he was nuts.

  Even experienced skiers found the steep, narrow trail with its hairpin turns challenging. Only the Garners dared to bomb down the slope like madmen every Christmas. And every year, the town formed a pool on which Garner would wind up in the hospital. For someone recovering from a significant leg injury, skiing Royal Slope would be suicidal.

  “Now I know you’re certifiable,” she said, and folded her arms over her chest.

  “I used to do it.”

  “And I thought you were certifiable back then but for God’s sake, Josh, give your leg at least a year to heal first. What you’re talking about . . . it’s sheer lunacy.”

  “I don’t have to go down fast. I just have to make it to the bottom.” He said it like that somehow made it more rational.

  “Does your family know about this?”

  He didn’t say anything, just took her in from head to toe, and a hot wave of sexual awareness passed between them.

  “Josh?”

  “It’ll be their Christmas surprise.” He got up and although he tried to hide it, she could see that he’d put all his weight on his good leg. “I’ve got to shower.” He started for a small locker room at the other end of the gym.

  Hannah walked past him on her way to the door.

  “You don’t want to wait for me?” he called over his shoulder.

  “What for?”

  “I’ll buy you dinner,” he said.

  His offer surprised her. Although there had been a noticeable softening in his attitude toward her, she still got the sense that something about her bugged him. But there had been that moment in the shop when she could’ve sworn he wanted to kiss her. So in spite of her reservations, she got comfortable in the seating area near the reception desk and waited.

  * * *

  Josh rested his forehead against the shower tiles. The cold felt good against his skin. Everything else felt out of control. Being home, his leg, Hannah. He didn’t know why he’d let her stay for his workout or why he asked her to dinner, just that he couldn’t seem to stop himself. She’d always been his weakness. That’s why he’d left in the first place.

  After the shower he found an ice pack and strapped it to his leg, then dressed in everything but his pants. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out to join Hannah on the sectional. The towel didn’t cover all his scars and he wondered if he was consciously trying to test her.

  “You mind if I ice my leg for a while before we eat?”

  “Not at all,” she said, and took in the knee wrap that went more than halfway down his leg and at the lines that crisscrossed his fibula like a spiderweb. “Does it hurt?”

  “Nah, I just need to ice it after I work it like that.” He continued to watch her but she didn’t seem repulsed. “How was your day . . . the store?”

  “It was all right. Busy.” One of the ice packs slid off his knee and she carefully put it back in place.

  He gazed outside the window at Main Street. “Glory Junction has changed a lot. It’s more crowded with lots of fancy homes in the hills. I guess that’s good for your business.”

  “Yep, and yours. There was a building boom after you left. A lot of folks telecommute to their jobs in the Bay Area and Sacramento.”

  “I guess they need infrastructure. That new chain supermarket still blows me away. It has a freaking wine-tasting counter and a chocolate fountain.”

  She smiled, those pale gray eyes of hers twinkling. Josh had missed those eyes. “When it first opened I swore I’d never go in there. But between you and me, I love it. It’s so big and clean and everything’s so fresh. Sometimes I spend an hour in there just walking around, looking at the food displays.”

  Grocery stores didn’t excite him that much but he liked listening to her . . . looking at her. She sparkled, always had.

  “Where do you want to eat?” she asked.

  “TJ likes that new Indian place. I’ve never been, have you? Or if you want we can go to Old Glory and grab pub food. I’m open to anything.”

  “Old Glory is fine.”

  “Let me just put on my pants.” He grinned because it was a funny thing to say.

  “Shouldn’t you keep the ice on for longer?”

  Yeah. But it was getting too intimate sitting alone with her. “I’ll do more when I get home but I’m starved.”

  In the locker room he put on a pair of clean jeans and his boots, and returned to the front area. “You ready to go?”

  They walked the half block to the bar and he found them a table in the back. It was still early for the rowdy crowd—at least you could hear yourself talk. He ordered Hannah iced tea, got himself a Sierra Nevada on tap, and a basket of peanuts to share. A couple of guys from the fire department came over to say hi and stood around a little while shooting the breeze.

  The guys left when a pool table became available, and he turned to Hannah. “You know what you want?”

  “A burger and fries.”

  He flagged a waitress over and ordered for both of them. She started to say something but Chip and a woman—Josh figured it was Valerie—wandered in and took a table not far away from theirs.

  Hannah whispered, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be in here, do you?”

  “Nope. But it’s not your problem. Are you uncomfortable?”

  “Not like that,” she said. “I’m having déjà vu of when he used to insist that we come in here and the whole time my stomach was tied in knots over whether he’d drink too much and make a fool of himself. One time he passed out and three guys had to help me get him home. Another time he got into a fight over karaoke and then proceeded to sit on the stage and sing through everyone else’s song.”

  Josh laughed, then abruptly stopped, “I know it’s not funny. Sorry.”

  “I just think it’s weird that Val would allow him to come in here. It’s too much temptation for a recovering alcoholic.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it’s part of the program, like a trial or something.”

  “Maybe. But you’re right, it’s not my problem.” She leaned across the table. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “I’m boring.”

  “Boring? You’re a war hero. If the rumors are true, you saved seven men.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to talk about that.”

  She looked suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bring up anything sensitive. I guess I don’t know what’s taboo in a situation like this.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I just don’t want to spend our time discussing war.” It was shitty dinner conversation.

  “I understand,” she said. “We’ll talk about something else. You’re up-to-date on me but how about you? Were you . . . are you . . . involved with anyone special?”

  “In Afghanistan?” He laughed. “Nah. Not a place particularly conducive for picking up women. What about you . . . dating?”

  “After Sabine got sick I didn’t have time. And now . . . it’s nice with it just being me.”

  Just her. Single. Man, how he’d wanted her before he’d left. Afraid that the whole world would see how much, he’d gone out of his way to ignore her.

  “I can understand that,” he said, because in a lot of ways she was recuperating from a trauma too. It couldn’t have been easy taking care of an alcoholic . . . or an aunt with cancer.

  The waitress brought their food and
for a while they sat silently eating; every now and again he’d sneak a peek at her. Looking at her had always done him in. It wasn’t just her physical appearance but a quiet dignity that had drawn him to her. She’d hung out with a giggly group of boy-crazy girls. And while Hannah had outshone them in beauty, she’d always been reserved and serious like Josh. Two people standing outside their raucous clique, while Chip had been the center of it.

  “How’s it being back at Garner Adventure?” she asked.

  “Awesome.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, which he knew sounded ungrateful. He was fortunate to have a family business to fall back on. Hell, he was fortunate to be alive. “I booked a skydiving trip for a group of seniors . . . you know, bucket list.”

  “Skydiving, huh?” She feigned horror. “People actually find jumping out of a plane entertaining?”

  Josh couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

  “Never.”

  He laughed again. “You still afraid of heights?”

  “I don’t know.” She took a bite of her burger. “I never go higher than the second floor of my Victorian.”

  “Hannah, I’ve got a newsflash for you. These mountains we live in are nearly six thousand feet in elevation.”

  “As long as I’m on flat ground I’m okay.”

  He knew they were both remembering hiking up Sawtooth in their junior year of high school. She’d gotten stuck midway up the mountain and he’d been the one to get her down. Not Chip, who’d complained that he had sunstroke. Josh had always suspected that it was really a monster hangover.

  “I can’t move.”

  “Yes you can.” Josh held his hand out to her. She grabbed it, looked down, and promptly turned green.

  “I think I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Good time to figure that out, Baldwin.” Thank God they’d taken the easier saddle trail instead of the rough scramble, which he preferred. But they were still a hell of a ways up.

  “Go ahead and be an ass. But how am I supposed to get down?” She looked scared enough to throw up.

  “I’m gonna help you. You trust me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I do, even if you are the spawn of Satan.”

  But she wasn’t looking at him like he was the spawn of Satan. No, she was looking at him in a way he’d never seen her look at Chip, like he was her hero. Like he was everything.

  They finished their meal and Josh paid the bill. A tight fist of panic welled up inside him as he walked Hannah the short distance to her car. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up kissing her and wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said, and stood there for a few seconds . . . waiting, considering. “I’m having a few people over tomorrow evening to help me trim my tree. Would you like to come? It’ll be casual. Deb and Foster . . . you remember Foster, right?”

  Josh had gone to high school with him. “Yeah, I remember Foster. How is he?”

  “Good. He owns Sweet Stems now and is killing it. All the resorts have him do their floral arrangements.”

  “That’s great.” He zipped up his jacket, thinking they’d probably get more snow overnight. “I’ll try to stop by; it’ll depend on my leg.”

  “I hope you make it,” she said. They were so close the toes of their shoes touched.

  He opened her car door, jammed his hands in his pockets, and watched her get in the driver’s seat. It killed him to do it but he watched her drive away, then limped across the street to his own truck.

  Chapter Five

  Oh boy, what had she gotten herself into?

  Hannah got as far as her driveway and called Deb. “We’re trimming my tree tomorrow tonight. I need you to bring that cheese-ball dip you make.”

  “No can do,” Deb said, and it didn’t sound like she was alone. “I’ve got a thing.”

  “What thing?”

  She heard Deb moving on the other end. In a muffled voice she said, “I’m with Jeremy.”

  “Jeremy who?”

  “A guy I met. He’s only here for another day, skiing.”

  “I invited Josh.” Hannah puffed out a breath.

  “Josh Garner?”

  Like what other Josh could she possibly mean? “Yes, and I told him you and Foster were coming.”

  “So? Just tell him I had something else to do. What’s the big deal?”

  “He’ll think . . . I don’t know what he’ll think. But he hardly even knows Foster.”

  “Oh my God, you like him. You like Josh Garner.” Hannah could practically see Deb jumping up and down. “And why should I be surprised? You had a thing for him in high school, don’t say you didn’t. I can’t wait for asshole Chip to find out. He was always jealous of you two.”

  “Stop being ridiculous. He’s a friend . . . was the best man at my wedding. He doesn’t even like me.”

  “Make up your mind. Either you two are friends or he doesn’t like you. Which one is it?”

  Hannah wasn’t sure. Up until recently she would’ve said the latter but he’d taken her to dinner and they’d had a lovely evening. “We’re frenemies.”

  “Straight guys don’t do frenemies,” Deb said. “Look, if you’re not into him why are you worried about me not being there?”

  “I’m not. Fine, don’t come. Have fun with Gerome and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “It’s Jeremy and you better have something good to report.”

  As soon as Deb hung up, Hannah called Foster.

  “Sweet Stems,” he answered. “How can we make your day beautiful?”

  Gag. “You can make my day beautiful by coming over tomorrow night to help trim my tree.”

  “Is that code for sex? Because as gorgeous as you are, Hannah, I swing the other way.”

  “I invited Josh Garner and told him you and Deb were coming. Deb can’t make it.”

  “Well neither can I, honey. I’ve got a wedding this weekend.”

  “So, you’ve got plenty of time.”

  “They’re spending three thousand dollars on flowers, which is a lot of arrangements to get done in four days. Kiss Josh for me. Gotta go.”

  Hannah felt a surge of anxiety. It would look like a setup. Josh coming over to an empty house. Just him and Hannah, like she was trying to seduce him. Oh God.

  Once in high school they’d wound up seeing a movie alone. It was supposed to be a double date, except Chip and Josh’s girl had canceled at the last minute. After that night Josh had grown even more distant. Hannah remembered the incident like it was yesterday.

  “Hey, Garner, where’s Robin?” she asked as they wound their way around the velvet ropes into the small theater’s old-time lobby.

  “She has a history final tomorrow . . . had to cram.”

  “Chip has the flu,” she said. “It’s going around.”

  Josh’s brows winged up, dubiously. “I guess it’s just you and me then.”

  Wordlessly, they headed to the snack-bar line.

  “Don’t sound so thrilled.”

  “Believe me, Baldwin, I’m not.” He stepped up to pay for Hannah’s popcorn.

  “What are you doing? I can afford my own food.”

  He got a second bucket for himself and she noticed his bulging biceps. Hard to miss in the white T-shirt that stretched across his chest. Most of the boys she knew, including Chip, were still filling out. Josh, though, looked like a man. Tall and built and rugged. She supposed the muscles came with his job, working for his family’s business. Lord knew he showed them off every chance he got.

  “Jesus, Baldwin, don’t get so touchy. You can buy the sodas.” But while she fumbled through her wallet he grew impatient and got those, too.

  They went inside the theater, which had already gone dark. He managed to hold his popcorn and soda in one arm and palm her elbow so she wouldn’t trip. His hand was big, strong, and steady. And although it was just her sleeve he touched, a little quiver went through her.

  “Right here,” he whispered,
and grabbed them two seats and helped her get situated with the snacks.

  At one point in the show their legs rubbed together and Hannah’s belly dipped. They sat thigh to thigh for the rest of the movie, making it hard to concentrate. At the end, when he moved his leg away, she instantly felt bereft of his body next to hers, like she’d lost something integral.

  “You staying at your aunt Sabine’s tonight?” he asked as they made their way to the parking lot.

  She nodded and he said, “I’ll follow you home.”

  “Uh . . . No . . .”

  “Why not? Chip would want me to.”

  “It’s okay, I’m going to his house first,” she lied, having no intention of seeing Chip that night. But for some indiscernible reason she felt guilty about spending time with Josh, even though they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Fine with me, Baldwin.” He turned on his heels and spent the summer snubbing her.

  * * *

  Josh nearly turned back three times on Wednesday before pulling up in front of Sabine’s house . . . Hannah’s now. His leg hurt like a bitch and for a guy who was trying to stay detached he was failing miserably. Dinner the previous night and now Hannah’s home. He was setting himself up. Hannah might want him—as teens there had always been this sexual charge between them—but he was pretty damned sure not in the same way Josh wanted her. He took solace in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the only guest at this gathering.

  Her street hadn’t been plowed yet and Josh cautiously got out of the truck, afraid that his bum leg wouldn’t hold him if he slipped in the snow. He made his way to the passenger side and grabbed the bottle of wine he’d bought at the market.

  It had been a long time since he’d been here. Sabine’s two-story Victorian had always reminded him of something out of a storybook. He took her walkway slowly, struggled to climb the stairs, then took a few minutes to collect himself.

  It was too cold for loitering so he finally rang the doorbell. Hannah answered in a pair of skinny velvet pants and a sweater that clung to her breasts. Yep, this had been a colossally bad idea. He’d bug out as soon as possible.

  “Come in,” she said, and he handed her the bottle of wine.