Her Mountainside Haven

by Jo McNally

  Jillie’s expression fell so quickly he thought for a moment she was going to burst into tears. “Open it? To the public?”

  “That’s the general idea, yeah. But there’s a lot of work to be done first.”

  Her face had gone white. Her shoulders fell. The dog looked up in concern, letting out a soft whine. Matt didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. For some reason he wanted to try.

  “I can make sure you and your family get free passes for the first season.”

  She blinked a few times, then seemed to force her body to straighten again.

  “That won’t be necessary. Just make sure you educate everyone, including yourself, on where the property lines are.”

  Her expression made it clear that she expected him to get moving, so he gave her a nod and turned away. He’d managed to annoy a neighbor in less than an hour—that was a record. He needed to find Bryce and check out the so-called “holiday rental cottage” he’d found online. Hopefully, that was in better shape than the ski resort he’d found the same way. He resisted the urge to look back at Jillie Coleman as he walked.

  Matt flipped properties for a living, and never cared much what the neighbors thought while he was working. When they saw the end result and the positive effect it had on their property values, they were usually happy enough. But he did care when they acted as if they were afraid around him. His new neighbor was definitely afraid. And that didn’t sit well at all.

  Chapter Two

  Monica should have known her peaceful sanctuary wouldn’t last long. The Shadows were gaining power from the earth again. She was going to need help to stop them.

  She was going to need the people who claimed to be her friends.

  Jillie scowled at Mackenzie Adams, who’d just delivered Jillie’s groceries, as well as half a case of booze from Mack’s liquor store. Even though it was only ten in the morning, Jillie was tempted to open a bottle of vodka. She wasn’t mad at Mack, of course. But she was angry and frustrated over the news Mack had delivered.

  “So you’re telling me there’s nothing I can do about this guy trying to reopen the ski lodge?”

  Mack pulled her honey-blond hair back and held it for a moment before dropping it. Her hair was as bright and thick as Jillie’s was dark and fine. “It looks like he bought the property fair and square in a foreclosure auction a couple months ago. Dan checked, and the guy worked with the county on getting all the right permits after that. So he’s basically cleared for opening as soon as the place is ready. Electricians and plumbers have already been over there working.”

  Mack married Gallant Lake’s beloved police chief, Dan Adams, a month ago. While Mack had only recently returned to town to take over her dad’s business, Dan had been here his entire life. Jillie liked the chief’s steady, totally unruffled approach to his job. She also liked his deep loyalty to friends and family, including Mack and his young daughter from a previous marriage, Chloe. Jillie called Dan right after that Matt Danzer person walked away from her on the mountain a few days ago. She’d hoped to find the guy had broken some law—any law—but no such luck.

  It was a raw, rainy day, and Mack quickly accepted the mug of coffee Jillie handed her, cupping her hands around it. Jillie started putting the groceries away. As small as the grocery store was in Gallant Lake, it was still too much for Jillie. Usually she ordered online and picked up her purchases curbside—a service that became easier and more common after the pandemic shutdown—but she had a great crew of friends here who would often offer to pick things up for her if they were coming to her place.

  “Did Dan look extra deep into this guy, though?” she asked as she put a carton of eggs in the refrigerator. “Even if the deal is legit, that doesn’t mean Danzer is. I mean, he was trespassing on my property.”

  Mack arched one eyebrow at her.

  “From what you said, he—” she raised her fingers to make air quotes “—trespassed by less than fifty feet, told you he was mistaken about the property line and left when you told him to. That may be trespassing by the letter of the law, but is charging the guy with a crime really how you want to start your relationship with a new neighbor?”

  Jillie scowled again. “I’m not going to have a relationship with the new neighbor. I don’t even want a new neighbor. He’d better stay on his side of the line, or I will be charging him.” She was tossing boxes of pasta into the cupboard with unusual force. She had a strange feeling Matt Danzer was the kind of guy who liked to push his limits. Which meant she’d have to keep a close eye on him. Exactly what she didn’t want to do. “Dan didn’t find anything shady about him? What kind of man wears a suit and a camel coat to climb a mountainside? Maybe he’s part of the Mafia or something...”

  Mack laughed, sliding a case of sparkling water across the island to her. “The Mafia? I know you don’t like strangers, Jillie, but it’s pretty unlikely that the mob is expanding to Gallant Lake.” She took another sip of her hot coffee, sighing as she did. “I’m sorry. Dan says the guy is, and I quote, squeaky clean. He also said to remind you he’s not supposed to be checking up on law-abiding citizens, so this conversation never happened, okay?” She waited for Jillie’s nod of agreement. “Danzer makes his living as a flipper, but with businesses more than houses. He buys properties, spends time rebuilding them and relaunching the business, then he sells and moves on. He started in Colorado, but he’s lived all over, mostly in ski towns.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice dramatically. “Turns out his brother is none other than Bryce Danzer, the world champion downhill skier. You know, the bad boy of skiing that got all the press a few years ago?”

  Jillie frowned. “That kid who got drunk at some party and missed his time slot for his team qualifier? There was a big dustup when they gave him another slot. People said he didn’t deserve the second chance.” Great, she had some privileged party boy and his probably doting brother moving in.

  “That’s the guy.” Mack nodded. “He went on to win the freakin’ gold medal that year and went straight into rehab the next day. He’s been in and out of trouble ever since. His competition record has been a roller coaster. Then he broke his leg on a practice run last spring. Rumor was he’d been drinking.” She waggled her eyebrows and Jillie started to laugh.

  “This report is a little more tabloid-y than I was expecting from Dan.”

  “I told you Dan didn’t want to do any reporting at all. He gave me just enough information to do a deep dive online myself,” Mack explained. “And Bryce was far more interesting than his big brother. Matt’s a bit of a bore, at least online. He’s managed his brother’s career, which probably keeps him busy. He’s single, by the way.”

  “As if I care,” Jillie scoffed.

  “Well, if I didn’t have the best husband in the world, I’d be caring. I only found a couple pictures of him, but the man looks like a golden sun god.”

  “He didn’t look very godlike when Sophie chased him up that tree the other day.”

  Except he kinda did, dressed in that ridiculous business getup, standing in the split of an old apple tree, staring at her can of bear spray and arguing that he wasn’t trespassing. That thick shock of blond hair that fell across his forehead made him look like a movie star. Mack was staring at her in amusement.

  “What?” Jillie sighed. “Okay, fine. He’s pretty. But you know I don’t care about that.” She closed the pantry door. “This is a disaster, Mack. If he opens that resort, there’ll be people all over the place. How am I going to write? It’s my worst nightmare. I’ll have to move...”

  “Whoa, whoa—slow down, girl.” Mack set her coffee mug down. “You can’t even see the slopes or the lodge from here. That means they can’t see you, either. And yeah, there might be more traffic, but your place is hidden from the road, too.” She reached over and took Jillie’s hand. “We take care of our own in this town, and no one wants you to leave. If either one
of these Danzer guys does anything to bother you, they’ll have all of Gallant Lake to deal with.”

  Jillie’s eyes went moist. Mack was right about Gallant Lake. About people taking care of her. They protected her from all the things that made her feel threatened, which was a pretty long list. They shopped for her. They delivered things to her. They provided safe places to gather and always showed her where the back doors and hidden exits were if she panicked.

  Once Philadelphia had become unbearable because of its size and the memories and the chance of seeing him again, This town provided the refuge she’d needed. Her Philly friends laughed at the idea of her going from her downtown condo to a mountainside A-frame. But from the moment she’d seen this place, tucked deep in the pines at the end of a long driveway off a private road, she’d known it was her home. Her current book series was about shadowy monsters who gained strength from mountain stone. This mountain gave her strength. Made her feel safe.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Mack said, pushing away from the kitchen island and standing. “Dan wanted me to tell you that he and Asher will come up here in the next few days and make sure your property line is clearly marked with no-trespassing signs all the way up the slope.” She reached for her jacket. “He’ll text you before they arrive.”

  Her friends accommodated her phobias without question. A few of them had their own past traumas to deal with, so they got it. Even if she knew they were coming, they would text or call from the base of the mountain to let her know they’d arrived. If they forgot, the security camera alongside the driveway would alert her. Having friends in her own home was nowhere near as fraught with the threat of a panic attack as leaving her property. No matter where she was, she didn’t like surprises. As Matt Danzer had discovered the other day.

  She waved from the deck as Mack drove away. Knowing that Dan and Asher Peyton, husband of her friend Nora, would be putting up more posted signs made her feel better. There’d be no excuse for any future misunderstandings from the Danzer brothers or anyone else. She headed to her office in the back of the house and got to work. First up was checking social media and posting something—this week’s share was a photo of Sophie stretched out on the sofa, with the background details carefully blurred. Jillie’s publicist made her reclusive lifestyle part of her so-called brand, without ever addressing why J.L. Cole lived such a solitary life. It had become part of the mystique—a bestselling horror author who rarely, if ever, appeared publicly. But fans these days expected something, so she did a minimal amount of social media to stay in touch.

  Many fans had guessed she lived in New England, but they usually speculated she was in the wilds of Maine, or maybe Vermont. Once in a while someone guessed the Adirondacks, a few hours north of her actual home in the Catskills. She’d been lucky. No one had been all that desperate to find her. She wasn’t a mega-celebrity. There was just an idle curiosity that popped up occasionally. Her agent had warned that could change once the pending movie deal became official. It seemed so incredible that her little books—stuff she dreamed up in her head and tapped onto a keyboard—could end up on the big screen starring actors known the world around.

  She pulled up her publisher’s author-only website and reviewed some potential cover ideas for the final book. Fame and fortune had never been her goal in life. She just wanted to write stories. The process was cathartic for her. Most writers wanted people to see their work, of course, and Jillie was no different. She may not be able to handle crowds of people in person, but she loved looking at sales stats and seeing that readers appreciated her art. Right or wrong, a large readership was a validation of sorts.

  The money was nice. She glanced around her office with the wide windows facing the trees between her and the ski resort. She liked privacy, but she wasn’t looking to live like some reality-show survivalist, existing in the wild on twigs and berries or making her own clothes out of birch bark. She liked nice things, like the second espresso maker sitting next to her desk, saving her a trip to the kitchen. The raw silk drapes framing the window. The expensive ergonomic chair she was sitting in. Yes, money had its perks.

  But she considered herself more comfortable than wealthy. The kind of money being bandied about in reference to the movies made her anxious. Maybe the studio would buy the books and never produce anything. She’d heard of that happening. The thought was oddly reassuring, and she was finally able to stop fretting and start writing...after one more look out the window toward the Gallant Lake Ski Lodge. She’d be keeping a close eye on that property line. And on the new owner.

  * * *

  “You’re telling me the only option is to drive the trucks right up the ski slope?” Matt rubbed his hand down his face and bit back a frustrated sigh, clutching his phone tightly. “Yeah, I know we’d have to build a road first. In the middle of the slope, which is not gonna happen.” The snowmaking machine supplier reminded him that there used to be an access road. He knew that. And after looking at his property survey from every angle, he also knew that a big chunk of the old access road was now on Jillie Coleman’s land. There’d been some sort of verbal agreement between prior owners of both properties, but his attorney told him it hadn’t been used enough to assume automatic right-of-way. Which meant he was going to have to pay her a visit. She hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of the ski resort existing, much less allowing him to use her property.

  After the call ended, he went back to work removing the cheap paneling someone had hung inside the lodge in what was probably a low-budget 1980s remodel attempt. The faux paneling had to go. Once he and Bryce got the walls down to studs, Matt decided to remove a few non-load-bearing walls to open up the place. The long, shiny pine bar on the slope side of the lodge would now be open to the lounge area surrounding the distinctive fireplace. The vintage hearth had somehow survived all the remodels through the years. It was straight out of the 1960s with the circular red-metal chimney hanging down from the ceiling above the round hearth in the center of the lounge. It gave the room a funky, retro feel, so it was a definite keeper. The hearth was surrounded by a circle of flagstone flooring that was still in good shape. The worn plank floors had enough character to keep, too. They just needed some sanding and stain to freshen them up.

  A small dining area was on the downslope side of the lodge, with nice views of Gallant Lake and the mountains beyond it. Huge picture windows lined three sides of the lodge, and Matt had already contracted a company to replace them all with triple-pane windows of the same size. They were scheduled to be installed the same week that the solar panels arrived for the roof. A retro look was fine, but this would very much be a state-of-the-art, energy-efficient building when he was done with it.

  He grabbed a pile of the old paneling from the floor and dragged it to the open sliding glass doors. A wide flagstone veranda wrapped around three sides of the lodge. He groaned as he heaved the paneling over the timber railing and dropped them to the parking lot below. His brother’s voice let out a string of curses.

  “How about giving a heads-up before you try to bean me with scrap lumber?” Matt peered over the railing to where his younger brother stood. Bryce had his hands on his hips. “Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Safety about work sites? I coulda been killed.” He was a good twenty feet from the scrap pile.

  Matt shook his head. “Dude, if you can’t see that pile of lumber or the ropes I put around it to keep people from walking into the danger zone, then you deserve a knock on the head.” His eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago to help with this. Where the hell have you been?”

  The two of them had always been opposites. Their parents used to laugh that they each had a child of their own. Matt, although he shared his father’s name, got his tall, blond, blue-eyed looks from his mother. And Bryce was Dad’s spitting image, with his wiry build, thick brown hair and dark eyes. The differences didn’t stop at looks. Matt had always had a practical, industrious approach to life, whi
le Bryce was a freewheeling party boy. At least, he had been, until he nearly got himself booted from the US team permanently for getting in trouble one too many times.

  His brother jogged up the wide stone stairway to the veranda. “Where I’ve been is exactly where you wanted me—discussing our little road dilemma with the forestry service. I happened to bump into the local ranger last night at the pizza place, the Chalet.”

  “You mean the little townie dive bar? That Chalet?”

  Bryce put his hands to his chest in mock innocence. “Hey, they serve pizza there. That makes it a pizza place. Anyway, there was a group of ladies at a booth, and one of them recognized me...”

  Matt groaned, still stuck on the idea of Bryce hanging out at a bar. “Wasn’t the whole idea to lay low and not get recognized? We don’t need Bryce Danzer groupies crawling around this place. We had a whole conversation about this.”

  Bryce shrugged. “Coming here wasn’t my idea. I never agreed to lock myself in my room. Besides, in a town this small, I think we’re safe. Anyway, you wanted to establish contact with the forest service, and our local forest ranger was one of the ladies I met.”

  They walked inside the lodge as Matt tried to count to ten in his head. “All it takes is one social media post by someone, and your whole fan base will be headed this way.”

  “First, my so-called fan base isn’t interested in a guy who won’t even be competing this year.” A shadow crossed Bryce’s face. “And all the ski bunnies are in Europe or up at Killington, where the snow is.” He swung his arm around the inside of the lodge. “Even if an entourage showed up, they’d take one look at this rat hole and turn right back around. So give me a freakin’ break about fans right now.”

  Matt grimaced. He’d promised Bryce he’d stop lecturing him. The kid—check that—the young man was twenty-four. He knew Bryce missed his buddies on the ski circuit. They’d both heard all the rumors suggesting he was finished. Or that the injury hadn’t been that bad and he was actually in rehab again. It hadn’t been an easy year.