“Is this one yours?” she asked, nodding toward the plump baby who’d wound its fist around Jenny’s braid.
“Oh, no. Mine are both in school now. But I have these monkeys to keep me company.”
“Mm. Sure.” She smiled awkwardly toward the playground where both boys were trying to fit down the slide at the same time and bottling up at the top of it. The kids looked more confused than upset.
“You said you were interested in the property next door?”
“My parents lived there many years ago. I’m just knocking on doors to see if anyone remembers who owned it in the ’60s.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. This house belongs to my in-laws. I can ask my husband when he gets home, but he’s only thirty-seven. He might not know.”
One of the boys had made it down the slide and was eyeing Hannah as if he might approach. “Oh, that would be great if you can ask. Can I leave you my email address? My phone isn’t working well out here.”
“They never do. Frankly, I’m thankful for that. Sometimes it’s nice not to be found.”
Hannah eyed the boy warily. He took a few steps away from the slide and toward her.
“My mother-in-law lives in the Bay Area now, but my husband could call her.”
“Thank you! If he could, that would be amazing. I’m trying to figure out who all was living there. Track down some relatives. That kind of thing.”
“Try a DNA test!” Jenny suggested.
Hannah glanced away from her tiny stalker in surprise. “What?”
“Haven’t you seen those commercials? You can do a DNA test to find out your background, but they also match you up with family members who’ve taken one.”
“Really?”
“Yep. It’s pretty cool. A friend of my mom’s got a kit for her birthday.”
“I’ll check it out. Thank you.”
She left Jenny her email address and managed to escape without another mauling, though Jenny did lean in for a one-armed hug. Hannah was surprised to find herself hugging Jenny back. In fact, when the woman whispered, “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Hannah’s eyes welled.
Embarrassed, she turned quickly away and stepped into the dimness of the house. “Thank you so much. And I hope the baby search works out.”
“Maybe we’ll both have good luck.”
It seemed possible. Right now Hannah felt lucky. A DNA test would be a long-term approach, but it seemed a promising way to find her mother’s last name if her inquiries here didn’t work out. She might even track down her mom. Hannah would never have thought of it without Jenny’s help.
She walked up the road, hoping she might pass another house.
If only she could see a census from the area. It would list every person living on the property in 1970, and her mother might be among them. But she knew it took a long time for those to become public. Useful for finding the name of a great-grandparent, not so useful for a mother.
Come to think of it, she didn’t even know any grandparents’ names, and wasn’t that strange? Shouldn’t she know something even if they’d all died years ago? Maybe her sisters had asked those questions. That was the sort of thing people became interested in once they had kids. She’d have to ask Becky the next time they spoke. She didn’t know when she’d be talking to Rachel again.
The road rose up to the highway without passing any other houses. There wasn’t much of a shoulder to speak of, and Hannah’s neck tightened as cars rushed by at speeds that felt way too high for the curves. Luckily, she could see the Riverfall Inn sign just ahead.
After a pack of motorcycles passed, she glanced across the highway toward the roadhouse and suddenly realized she was starving. She needed to get back and look into the DNA search, but maybe she’d be better off starting that on a full stomach.
A raindrop hit the top of her head. Then another. When the rain started to fall in earnest, that decided it for her. She tugged up her hood, looked both ways, and sprinted across the road.
The roadhouse looked as ancient on the inside as it did on the out. Ancient, but clean. The long slab of dark wood that made up the bar was polished to a shine.
She glanced toward the wood-paneled dining area. Her eyes adjusted enough to spot two couples sharing a bottle of wine, so Hannah headed for the bar instead. She usually had no problem with eating alone, but she was not going to sit at a table by herself next to people celebrating their twenty-year romances together.
The tension in her neck had risen to her head. She pulled her hair free from the ponytail and rubbed her scalp, hoping to relieve the tightness. It helped a little. A drink would help more.
When the door to the kitchen swung open, she looked up gratefully, but when she saw who walked through, she didn’t exactly feel relief. Now the tightness concentrated in her gut.
She’d expected a young, seasonal worker. Someone who moved on every year with the tourists. But this man was around her age. A little older, actually. And handsome as hell.
While she was still noticing that his light-brown eyes perfectly matched the color of his skin, he smiled, and Hannah’s heart jolted. This guy was a silver fox. The lines around his eyes deepened into creases with the smile. His black hair had gone white at the temples in gorgeous contrast to his skin.
“Good afternoon,” he said as he slid a menu across the bar to her. “Late lunch? Early dinner?”
“Both,” she answered. “And happy hour too.”
“I’ve hit the jackpot. What can I get you to drink?”
She wasn’t going to flirt with the bartender. She never flirted with bartenders. They were inundated with flirting every day, and she had always been determined not to add to the ridiculous pile on. But instead of ordering, she raised an eyebrow. “What do I look like I need?”
He raised a matching eyebrow. Crossed his arms. And studied her.
The nape of her neck tingled and goose bumps spread out from there. Shit.
“I was going to suggest my favorite local red.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“Maybe. But today . . . today you look like you need whisky.”
She winced, suddenly conscious of the ridge the ponytail had left behind in her hair. “That bad, huh?” She swiped a few damp strands of hair off her cheek. “But you’re right. Whisky sounds perfect.”
“I make a mean old-fashioned with grapefruit bitters if you’re interested.”
“I am so goddamn interested,” she responded. His flash of a smile rewarded her eagerness.
“Coming right up.”
He moved at an easy pace, his hands sure and steady as he mixed the drink. When a younger guy appeared in the dining room to check on the table, Hannah saw the bartender glance up and watch for a moment.
“Is this your place?” she asked, recognizing the ownership in his eagle eyes.
“It is. My stepfather owned it for years, then sold it. I bought it back about five years ago.”
Hannah sat a little straighter. “So you grew up here?”
“Yep. Spent a decade down in LA, but I eventually made it back home. I’m Gabriel Cabrillo.” He wiped his fingers on a towel before holding out a hand.
“Hannah. Hannah Smith.” She liked how his warm hand turned suddenly cold at the fingertips from where he’d held the glass. His grip felt nice. Sturdy and not watered down for a woman.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said as his hand left hers with a promising rasp of friction. He added a cherry to her drink and set it down with a smile. “Cheers.”
“Thank you.”
When he stepped away to fill a water glass, Hannah took a sip of the drink. It was strong, but the hint of citrus cut through the whisky. “Mmm. Amazing.”
He threw her a smile as he topped off the water and set it down in front of her. “I’m glad it hit the spot.”
“What do you recommend for food? I think I’d better get something in my stomach before I finish this.”
“The burgers are great. We buy beef
from a local ranch. The fish tacos are my favorite. I make the crema myself. Jicama slaw on the side.”
“The tacos sound perfect.”
“I’ll get them started for you.”
She took another sip and eyed his ass as he pushed through the kitchen door. He looked lean and strong, and she was thankful his blue plaid shirt was tucked into his worn jeans, because the view was heavenly. Good Lord, he must get hit on all day. He wasn’t pretty like a model, but his large nose balanced the hard edge of his jaw.
The second sip hit her stomach, and heat flowed in little rivulets through her body as the alcohol kicked in. Hannah closed her eyes to savor it. Once she was sufficiently warmed, she unzipped her jacket and set it over the next chair to dry; then she did her best to finger comb her hair. For once, she was glad it was flat instead of curly. God only knew what her sisters might look like in this moisture.
She was thinking she should dab on a little lip gloss, but then the kitchen door swung open at the exact moment she realized why she couldn’t. She’d left her purse in the cabin. Along with her credit cards. Hannah gulped in a panicked breath as she met Gabriel’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly serious. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “I’m so embarrassed. I left my purse in my room.”
“I guess I just bought you a drink, then.”
“No, I’ll go get it! I’ll be back before the food is ready, I think. I’m just across the road.”
“Relax. You can pay me later.”
She jumped up from the bar stool, horrified down to her Midwestern bones. She probably looked like a hitchhiker grifting her way through Big Sur. “No, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Sit. I mean it. If you go now, the ice will melt, and you’ll ruin all my hard work.”
She glanced at the drink. “Really?”
“Really. Anyway, you look trustworthy.”
Relief pushed a laugh from her throat. She dropped back into her seat. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“A woman with secrets?”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, I bet I could hazard a few guesses. I’ve heard some amazing stuff from behind this bar. A lot of people come to Big Sur running away from things.”
“God bless them,” she murmured, raising the glass to her lips again. When she set it down, only half was left.
“Another?” he asked.
She really wanted another. She normally didn’t drink every day. Far from it. But she deserved to spiral this week. Down, down, down. She cleared her throat. “I’m not going to abuse your generosity.”
“Maybe I like a little abuse.” His wink made her grab the drink and take another sip. He reached for a new glass. “One more old-fashioned coming up.”
She liked watching him work. He looked calm and centered. His fingernails were cut short. Too short. As if he had to pare them down to keep from biting them. But they made his hands look rough and ready. No-nonsense.
“I’ll leave you my phone when I get my wallet,” she suggested. “As a security deposit.”
“Nice try. Your phone is as useless as everyone else’s here.”
“My room key, then?”
He shot an unreadable look over his shoulder, and Hannah flushed.
“Right,” she said quickly. “If I leave my room key, I couldn’t get into my room. Plus that might be a little forward.”
“You seem like a pretty up-front woman.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s a truly lovely way to put it.”
“Just doing my job, miss.”
“Ah. ‘Miss.’ You are good at this.”
“The more you drink, the more charming I seem. It’s one of the advantages of the job.” He slid the second drink to her and settled a hip against the bar as if he meant to stay awhile. “So what are you doing here in Big Sur, Miss Hannah Smith? Hiking? Biking? Seeing the sights?”
She finished her first drink and melted into the buzz of it. She was spiraling in style. “No. None of those things.”
“That’s right. You’ve got a secret.” He glanced at her left hand, possibly looking for a tan line to indicate a ring’s recent removal. She impulsively rubbed her ring finger, as she’d done thousands of times since her separation. The indentation had faded months ago. There was no sign of her marriage now.
“Divorce?” he asked.
“I’m working on it.” She looked at his bare hand. “You?”
“I came out on the other side seven years ago. Big Sur turns out to be a great place to lick your wounds.”
She shrugged. “I’m not really licking anything.” As soon as the words left her lips, she yelped with laughter and covered the sound. But covering her mouth didn’t help. She laughed harder. Snorted. Guffawed until tears rolled down her cheeks.
When her vision finally cleared, Gabriel was shaking his head. But he was grinning, showing off a pair of adorable dimples. “Maybe you should get some food in your stomach before you start that second drink.”
“Oops.” She lifted the new glass. “Too late.”
“Incorrigible,” he scolded. “Let me check on those tacos.”
As soon as he disappeared, Hannah tried to give herself a serious talking-to. “You’re not here to flirt. You’re not on vacation. This isn’t a pleasure cruise.” But damned if she didn’t feel like herself for the first time in years. Confident and fun and a little reckless. It was likely just the whisky. Or maybe not just the whisky, she corrected mentally as Gabriel pushed through the door with a plate.
And the best thing about him wasn’t even his looks. It was that he’d grown up here and probably had information. Okay, the cocktail skills and the food didn’t hurt anything either. Her mouth watered as he set down the plate in front of her.
“Thank you. I’m starving.”
He winked before he disappeared again. She was glad he’d gone, because she wasn’t going to be ladylike about this. One bite of taco and she was groaning with pleasure. The tangy crema was the perfect contrast to the blackened fish and spicy salsa, and the tortillas were obviously freshly made. She polished off the first taco in half a dozen bites, and when she saw that Gabriel was safely occupied in the dining room, she licked the leftover crema and tomatillo salsa off her fingers. She knew she was slightly tipsy, and maybe that was affecting her opinion, but damned if the slaw didn’t offset the glory of the taco perfectly. Gabriel Cabrillo was only getting sexier.
“Danger, Will Robinson,” she whispered to herself before setting into the second taco with a bit more restraint.
The problem was that she’d never been afraid of a little danger. What she’d always feared was safety.
Of course, that made her think of Jeff, which sobered her up a tiny bit. She still wanted to call him. It wasn’t just that she missed his friendship. She missed his mind, his insights. He was quick and logical, and he saw connections between past and present. That was his job. She wanted to lean on him and let him help. And he would help. Or he would have in the past. If he looked at all the evidence, he’d see something she couldn’t see in all of this.
Shit. This damn whisky. She was stupidly flirting with one guy and idiotically missing another. But idiocy didn’t ruin her appetite.
She’d always envied those women who couldn’t eat when they were stressed. Whoever her mom was, the woman hadn’t passed along that gene. Hannah finished the second taco with a wistful sigh, glad there wasn’t a third, because she would have finished that one too.
When the door began to swing open, she snatched up her napkin and wiped the evidence of the massacre from her face.
That sexy black eyebrow of his arched as he glanced at her plate. “Should I take that as a good sign?”
“You should. It was amazing. All of it.”
“Save room for dessert?”
She picked up her drink and smiled. “Already on it.”
“A girl after my own heart.”
“Funny that we’d meet a
t a bar.” She nudged her phone toward him. “Are you sure you won’t keep this as collateral? This bill is getting pricey.”
“Oh, I think I could track you down pretty easily if it comes to it. You’re at the Riverfall?”
“I am.”
“Nice place.”
“Do you know anything about it?”
He whisked her empty tumbler away and reached for a pitcher to refill her water. “Tucker’s a good guy. One hundred percent sincere about that place. That’s not always the case with newcomers.”
“I heard it used to be a commune.”
He paused in the act of setting the pitcher back down. “The bed and breakfast?”
“The land, yes. There were cabins and a garden.”
“You know . . . I seem to remember some talk from when I was a kid. But there were a lot of hippies around back then. My mom was always warning us to stay away from them.”
“Do you remember anything about the group at Riverfall?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, there were a ton of hitchhikers around back then. There still are. You know what? I do remember the cabins, but that was later. Late ’70s, after the place was abandoned. We used to sneak back there and poke around. But things get overgrown quickly around here. There wasn’t much to see.”
She wasn’t giving up yet. “Do you think anyone who lived there is still here?”
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s possible. I could ask around if you want.”
“Really?” She grinned at the possibility of having a local on her side.
“Sure, but why the curiosity?”
She wasn’t sure how much to say. She was tempted to blurt out the whole sordid story, just to tell someone. Someone who didn’t know her parents or need to protect them. He wouldn’t deny that it was possible. He wouldn’t warn her that other people might be hurt by the truth, no matter how much she needed it.
But she wasn’t buzzed enough to lay her worst secret out on the table like that. Not yet. “My parents lived there,” she said, stripping the whole story down to the barest of bones.
Half Past: A Novel Page 11
