by Carol Ross
This situation with Penny, while horrible, seemed to be eating away at him excessively. Of course he was upset, but she knew he didn’t have much of a relationship with his mother, so she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the extent of his despair.
“Okay, but make sure you ask Viktor first, so we don’t feed the last of his grapefruit to the fish if he has plans for it.”
He trotted off toward the kitchen as she bent down to remove her boots. When she rose she was startled to find Tate standing before her.
“Jeez, you scared me. You should have been a spy or something instead of a snowboarder.”
One side of his mouth nudged upward and she decided an attempt at a smile was better than nothing.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
It filled her with despair to see that the sadness, the solemnity she’d first encountered in him had returned—in excess.
“I know,” she said, feeling certain there was a touch of melancholy in the smile she returned. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he returned tightly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” What else could possibly be wrong she wondered, feeling a stab of pain in her ankle as she took a step forward, reminding her that her appointment was only a few days away. If it wasn’t for her leg, she would make Tate come to his senses.
He motioned for her to follow. She trailed him into his office where he walked around the desk and took a seat. She lowered herself into a chair on the opposite side of the desk. He handed her a piece of paper.
“What is this?” She stared down at the words and columns of numbers, obviously something to do with Snowy Sky.
“The changes I’ve made to the proposal for the resort.”
“You’re changing your proposal?”
“Yes, I am. I’m going to be honest with you. When I made that proposal my motivation was in large part for Lucas’s sake. I wanted to teach him to snowboard. So you were partially right when you said I wanted Snowy Sky for my own playground. But I wouldn’t have made the recommendation if I didn’t believe it would work, but now that we’re not going to be here it also works for you to continue with your original plan. It’s a great plan, Hannah.”
An interesting combination of surprise, happiness and irritation brought her up short. She’d been right when she’d assumed Tate had wanted Snowy Sky for himself, so why didn’t she feel a sense of validation about that? Because she now knew he had been doing it for Lucas. And even if he’d been a little misguided, that motivation made it okay. It made it better than okay, actually.
She should be pleased he was trying to make things right where she was concerned. Instead she just felt sad because he was taking Lucas away. And because he’d already taken himself. Sad and frustrated. Why couldn’t he see that leaving wasn’t the answer?
“I still believe you should consider putting in a half-pipe in a few years, and my recommendation will include that. But you can do it on your time and include it in your marketing package. I’ll be available for you to consult with anytime. No charge. I wanted you to know that I’m going to try to make things right for you—easy and convenient. And I’m...”
Hannah stared blankly, hearing maybe half of what he said, as her emotions waged a war within her. She needed to tell him. He needed to see once and for all how shortsighted he could be. And why shouldn’t she? What did she have to lose? It’s not like they were a couple.
“That’s very generous of you. Thank you.” It was generous and she did appreciate the gesture.
He smiled and she could tell he was relieved. “I’m glad you feel that way. Because I—”
Unfortunately for him, the reprieve was going to be short-lived. She interrupted, “But maybe I don’t want what’s ‘easy and convenient.’ Maybe I don’t want you to make things convenient for me. You’ve already made them extremely difficult.
“I love Lucas. I love Viktor. And you know what? I love you, too. And I realize you’ve made your mind up and I appreciate that you’re trying to clean up the mess you created. But the part you don’t seem to get is that you’ve done it without even consulting me. Maybe Adele was right when she said that I should cry and scream and stomp my feet once in a while so people will know what I’m feeling. I don’t do that. It’s not my style, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. You’ve turned into a bulldozer again and I thought we agreed you weren’t going to be that guy anymore.”
“Hannah—”
“I’m not through. You think you have problems, Tate? It’s true—you do. And I know you believe I have it so much easier because I have the support of my family and what you call a ‘normal’ upbringing. But here’s some news for you—we all have problems. Everyone has issues and obstacles to overcome. I don’t even get what this normal means that you keep referring to.”
He looked dubious and then he said, “But it is different for you. You’re so...lucky. You really can’t understand adversity like this—like Lucas and I have experienced. You have your family and—”
She literally wanted to strangle him for not being able to see beyond his own situation. The words seemed to fly out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“Lucky? Yeah, I know,” she continued sarcastically. “I’m excited for my doctor’s appointment on Wednesday where I find out whether or not I get to keep my leg or if they have to amputate it. So, yeah, yay, lucky me, right? All the family support in the world isn’t going to help me with that, Tate. The freaking royal family couldn’t help me with that.”
“Your... What?”
She would have laughed at the look on his face if she wasn’t so incensed.
“My leg,” she tapped on her left knee, “might have to be amputated. Remember how I told you I have to go to Anchorage on Wednesday? Well, it’s not to go shopping. I hate shopping. I’m going to see my doctor because I’ve developed this pain in my leg and... They told me after the accident that it might be a possibility someday.”
She stood as Lucas came into the room holding a plastic bag. He lifted it proudly. “Got ’em. Viktor even helped me cut them up.”
“Awesome. Let’s go feed some fish, kiddo. I could use some koi time right about now.”
* * *
TATE SAT BACK hard in his chair. Amputate her leg?
Cricket had said that Hannah’s recovery had been difficult, but he hadn’t mentioned this. How had he missed this? Thoughts flashed from one clue to the next; the sledding episode, the occasional limp, she’d even mentioned it bothering her that night at Big G.
He’d missed every one. Hannah was right; he had been so focused on his own problems that he hadn’t stopped to consider that someone else might have them, too. That they might be even worse than his. And Hannah’s had been much worse than he could have imagined.
He stared absently at the computer screen where he’d pulled up some of the data he and Park had been using to formulate their proposal, letting guilt and regret mingle uncomfortably within himself. The feeling was no less than he deserved.
He thought love was supposed to make life easier, not complicate it like this. Could he ever get it right where Hannah was concerned? She definitely should be with someone who could get it right, who had the right answers, said the right things, someone who wasn’t afraid. But he wasn’t afraid of her losing her leg. He wanted to be there for her if that happened.
And that’s when it hit him.
Hannah was afraid, too, yet she wanted to take that chance with him. Tate hadn’t wanted to subject Hannah to the craziness that was his life—that’s what he was afraid of. That he couldn’t give her the life she should have. And in doing so, in trying to protect her, he’d distanced himself.
That’s why she hadn’t told him about her leg. She’d been scared of how he would react, scared that he wouldn’t be able to handle
it. But she was wrong about that. He would be there for her.
Just like she’d always been for him.
She’d said she loved him. How could he prove that he loved her, too?
The answer to a completely different question hit him right then, jumped out at him actually from the monitor. The reason Park was so wound up about the development of Snowy Sky.
He had assumed Park didn’t want Hannah to get the best of him again. But if his guess was correct, Park had a whole lot more to lose than a battle of wills with Hannah. He studied the figures again, pulled up some more documents, and finally picked up the phone and made a call.
By the time he’d finished confirming his theory, Hannah was gone.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE that entire sleeping bag is going to fit into that tiny sleeve thing?” Adele pointed at the down bundle as Hannah began to shove it into its cover.
“Positive.” Hannah had it tucked inside in a matter of minutes. “What else is on the list?”
“Flashlight, batteries, matches.”
Peeking into a pocket of her pack Hannah confirmed with the words, “check, check, check.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Positive. Are you sure you don’t want to come along? We’ve been snowshoeing enough now that I know you could make it.”
Adele leveled a flat look at her. “Positive. A few hours is different than an all-day-long trek up the mountain where the prize is an overnight campout in a freezing cabin.”
Hannah’s phone buzzed on the table beside her. Tate had been calling and texting, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him. She picked it up, intending to silence the call. She scowled as she looked at the display.
Curiosity got the better of her. She tapped on the screen and said, “Hello?”
“Hannah, hi, how are you?” Park asked her from the other side of the line.
“Busy, Park, so you might want to quit inquiring about my health, which I know you don’t care anything about, and get to the point.”
He let out an irritable sigh. “Actually, I was hoping we could put some of this...hostility behind us. Could we get together sometime soon and talk?”
“Not possible,” she said, knowing she had a snap in her tone. She didn’t care. Revealing her circumstances to Tate had left her with a burning desire to use her leg one more time before she found out if she was going to lose it. And yes, she was also afraid he would come around feeling sorry for her, and she couldn’t abide the idea of his pity.
“I’m leaving for the night.”
“This is important. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. A, uh, a possible solution to our, um, differences. Could we meet before you leave? It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Fine, if you want to meet me at the Moose Gulch trailhead in an hour, I’ll give you five minutes.”
* * *
TATE WAS TRYING to figure out how to proceed when his phone alerted him to Cricket’s call. Maybe Cricket would want to meet him at the Caribou for dinner and help him sort this out. Maybe he’d contact Jonah, too, since he could use some legal advice.
“Hey,” he said into the phone.
“Did you know Hannah was going snowshoeing?”
“No, but Hannah snowshoes a lot. I’m sure her lungs look like a marathon runner’s.”
“No, Adele called. It seems she’s taking off by herself into the backcountry because she’s upset. Do you know anything about that?”
“Maybe. She just told me about her leg and—”
“Okay, you can tell me all about it on our way to Moose Gulch.”
“Moose Gulch? The trail?”
“Yes, that’s where she’s taking off from, headed to one of Bering’s cabins. Get your coat and boots. I have extra snowshoes if we need them. Adele and I are pulling up in your driveway right now. Hannah is meeting Park over there so—”
“Park?” Tate interrupted sharply.
“Yes, Adele said he called and told Hannah he wanted to speak to her. Adele doesn’t trust Park and she’s worried—”
“I’ll be right there.”
Tate shut off his phone, grabbed the stack of papers he’d printed, and took off through the house. He gathered his coat and boots even as he wondered what to do with Lucas. Maybe Janie could watch him? Did he have time to drop him off before he could get to Hannah? Or should he take him along? He had no idea what Park would do when he confronted him with this information.
He was getting ready to call for Lucas when Adele charged through the door.
“Go.” She pointed. “I’m staying with Lucas.”
Lucas had obviously heard Adele come in because he jogged into the entryway and seemed excited to see her. Tate explained that Adele was going to hang out with him for a while, then hugged him goodbye and ran to Cricket’s pickup. Cricket began pulling away before Tate could even get buckled.
“I’d like to get there before she takes off,” Cricket muttered and shook his head. “So unlike her to not check the weather.”
“What do you mean?” Tate asked. He hadn’t checked the weather either, although he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Storm coming. I texted her, but Moose Gulch is notorious for its lack of cell service.”
Tate’s bloodstream seemed to hum with the added surge of adrenaline. “That’s not the only reason we need to hurry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It seems Adele’s distrust of Park may be completely valid.” Tate went on to explain what he’d discovered, the crime he suspected Park had committed.
When he finished, Cricket shot a quick, sharp look at him. His eyes latched back on to the road where snow had begun to fall fast and hard. “People have killed for less than that, Tate.”
* * *
“NOW, WHAT IS so important that you felt you needed to interrupt my leisure time?”
Small, dry snowflakes pelted Hannah and Park where they stood beside the Moose Gulch sign. Theirs were the only cars to be seen. Park looked around, obviously puzzled by their meeting place.
“Snowshoeing,” she explained. “Up to one of my cousin Bering’s cabins.”
He gazed longingly at the mountain. “I’ve never been snowshoeing before.”
She couldn’t imagine. “Really?”
“I bet it’s beautiful up there, huh?”
She was leery about Park’s sudden chumminess, yet she sensed something about him that seemed almost pitiful. She didn’t have the heart to blast him like she normally would. “It is. I highly recommend it. Bering rents his cabins out. They’re very cheap in the winter, too.”
“I was raised in the city. Lucky for me it was Seattle where good snowboarding is only a short car ride up into the mountains, but it doesn’t actually snow much in the city. My mom didn’t move here to Rankins until after I graduated from college. She’s from Alaska and always wanted to come home. But, um, anyway, Hannah—let me get to the point...”
* * *
TATE HAD NEVER seen anyone drive so fast on snow-covered roads, and yet Cricket seemed to be in complete control. Even then it seemed to him as if the ride took about three days. That was one thing about Alaska—one important place could be so far away from another.
Finally Hannah’s SUV came into sight at the trailhead. Park’s crossover was next to it and he felt a wave of relief when he saw them standing under the covered Forest Service sign that marked the start of the trail.
Cricket parked and they both jumped out, Hannah and Park both looking on in surprise.
Hannah asked, “What are you guys doing here?”
“We came to find you.” Cricket explained about the weather.
“Oh, yeah, I know it’s supposed to snow.”
“Not just sn
ow, Banana—storm.”
Tate jumped in, “That’s not the entire reason we’re here either.”
He didn’t see any reason to hold off on confronting Park, although a piece of him wondered if he should have alerted the police first. After the experience with Penny, he had come to realize just how capable people really were of horrible actions.
“I was concerned about your safety.”
She appeared bemused. “I’m very experienced, Tate.”
“No, not about this,” he said, gesturing at the mountain.
He looked at Park. “I know what you’ve been doing. I figured it out and I have the proof.”
Park looked utterly confused. He said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The legal definition is graft.”
“Graft? Like the tree thing?”
Cricket let out a chuckle, while Tate stared at Park. He was doing a fine job of playing dumb.
“You contacted Nordic Verse about construction of the half-pipe.”
“Yeah, so what? I was just explaining this very thing to Hannah. Hoping I could convince her to get on board. I offered her the share I was planning on giving you. And her ex-boyfriend wants a piece of the action, too.”
Park focused on her and added, “I think he wants you back, Hannah. He seemed a lot more interested in you than the business deal.”
Was it possible he really didn’t understand? “Park, what you’ve done is against the law.”
His face went slack. “What do you mean?”
“It’s called fraud—financial fraud. You can’t take money from Nordic Verse and guarantee them a half-pipe and terrain park construction contract. I’ve already called Jonah Cedar and we’re going to have to notify the authorities.”
“The authorities? You mean like the police?”
“More serious than that.”
“More serious? But that’s not... I didn’t...” Park’s voice petered out as his face transformed with a look of sheer terror.
