Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys)

by Julianna Morris

Like Jake Hollister.

  Damn, that was depressing.

  Hannah closed her eyes and tried to decide when she should talk to Brendan and break things off. Obviously not today. He had the flu and it wasn’t fair to kick him when he was down. It was always possible he’d be relieved, but after his performance at the ice cream social, she doubted he’d be happy.

  Still, she didn’t think Brendan was in love with her. It was more the idea of them being together that he liked.

  Okay, so she couldn’t tell him today, and he ought to have an extra day to recover. Breaking up with someone was never a pleasant prospect, but she shouldn’t wait any longer than necessary. Perhaps Wednesday or Thursday.

  The noon hour arrived and Hannah’s stomach grumbled. “Do you want some lunch?” she asked Jake, but he didn’t seem to hear.

  She opened the soft-sided cooler she’d put in her own pack and took out a chicken-salad sandwich, along with a bag of kibble for Badger. Jake hadn’t said anything about food, but she’d put together a meal anyway.

  His shopping list had been appalling—trail bars, trail mix, bread, peanut butter, jam of any flavor, cheese and dried fruit. In rebellion, she’d added bananas, apples, baby carrots and fresh milk and orange juice. He was living in a place where fresh foods were available. He didn’t have to eat as though he were still in the wilderness. Of course, he also had cold pizza quite often, and whatever leftovers Danny could find in their fridge and bring to him.

  Hannah finished an apple and wrapped up the core before getting up to stretch. Next trip she’d have to bring a book with her—just sitting and watching a genius work was interesting, but it got old after a while.

  Jake obviously worked hard, but it did seem as if he mostly lived behind his camera, observing but not being a part of anything. A camera might not seem like a huge barrier, but she suspected it kept most people at arm’s length. Jake probably preferred it that way.

  Cooler in hand, she went over to stand directly in front of him. “Hey, do you want a sandwich?” she asked, speaking more loudly this time.

  He dragged his attention away from his camera. “Do I want what?”

  “Lunch.”

  “Oh. Sure.” Jake unwrapped the sandwich she handed him and bit into it absently, then his eyes widened. “There’s curry in this.”

  “Yup, and chicken, celery and raisins.”

  “It’s great.”

  The compliment sounded genuine, so she gave him a second sandwich and an apple before wandering back to her tree and dog, feeling sleepy. She was tempted to take a nap, but needed to keep track of the time. It looked as if Jake was capable of taking pictures until dark, and they’d agreed to get home in time for her to fix an early dinner for Danny.

  By 2:00 p.m. Jake was finally showing signs of slowing down. “We’d better go,” Hannah prompted, and this time she didn’t need to stand in front of him to get his attention.

  “Oh...yeah. Right.”

  He carefully stowed his equipment in his pack and they headed toward where they’d left the Jeep. In the clearing around the small stream, Jake caught her hand.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I just want to thank you.” He looked both exhausted and exhilarated as he bent and kissed her cheek.

  Warmth curled through Hannah, and she swayed closer, though the kiss was so gentle, it couldn’t be mistaken for anything except a thank-you. Before she could do anything too stupid, she stepped backward, wincing as she turned her ankle on a rock.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I get carried away when my work is going well.”

  “That...uh...” Hannah couldn’t decide whether to be angry or shrug it off. “Thank me for what?”

  “For showing me one of your special places, particularly after the things I’ve said about the Cascades. Taking pictures in that kind of light is a challenge, and I like challenges.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen lots of places that challenge you.”

  He shrugged and an indefinable expression flitted across his face. “A few. Shall we go? You’re probably anxious to talk to Brendan and see how he’s doing. If you don’t want to wait, call on my satellite phone.”

  “Thanks, but later is fine.”

  Hannah tried to smile, but she didn’t want to think about Brendan at the moment. On the other hand, she didn’t want to think about how it had felt when Jake kissed her, either. While he was attractive, she had no intention of getting involved with him. Between Collin and her ex-husband, her heart had been battered enough by reckless men for one lifetime.

  Yet as they approached his Jeep, Hannah was struck by the absurdity of thinking about any type of encounter with Jake. He was determined to stay single and unencumbered by the things that were most important to her—family and children and other emotional ties.

  “What are you grinning about?” he asked as she opened the back door for Badger to jump in.

  “Was I grinning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe I’m just happy to be going home.”

  Jake didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t care. She reversed the route they’d taken that morning, and despite the bumpy dirt road, she noticed he was asleep before they’d gone very far. It was possible that a two-mile hike was more than he should have attempted, but he had to make his own decisions.

  * * *

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON Brendan reluctantly pried his eyes open and realized he hadn’t gotten sick in at least forty minutes. That was something. And his mouth was dry to the point that he actually wanted a drink.

  He reached for the bottle of club soda on the bedside table. The past few hours were a blur, but he remembered Barbi showing up at his door and staying awhile...though he had no idea why she’d stayed. She hadn’t seemed the least bit horrified at seeing him look so disgusting, and had even offered reassurances that the worst would be over soon.

  Swallowing tentatively, he waited for an immediate gag reflex, but the liquid settled mercifully in his tummy. He was about to drink some more, then remembered Barbi’s advice to take it slowly.

  He let his head fall back against the pillow and tried to remember when she’d left. He must have been asleep.

  Ah, sleep... “Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.” An ironic smile twisted Brendan’s lips as he thought of the old poem and the nightmares he’d had in place of sweet dreams. John Keats obviously hadn’t been thinking about the stomach flu when he wrote those words.

  Let’s see...Barbi had brought him groceries because Hannah was out of town with Jake Hollister. Brendan groaned, recalling his idiotic behavior the day before. At least Hannah wasn’t so angry that she didn’t care he was sick.

  And it was rather nice of Barbi to do something for him, no matter what the reason. She’d mentioned doing a load of laundry.... Brendan got up cautiously and found a neatly folded stack of towels, sheets and clothes on top of his dresser.

  He briefly wondered why she hadn’t put them away, but realized she’d respected his privacy by not going through his drawers and cupboards. That was nice. He hadn’t thought a woman like Barbi would keep her nose out of places it didn’t belong.

  Yet even as the thought formed, Brendan frowned. It was unlikely he’d ever get along with Barbi Paulson, but she obviously wasn’t a bad sort. Otherwise Hannah wouldn’t be friends with her. He should have realized that before.

  And exactly what was “a woman like her” anyhow?

  He’d grown up in a world where Clothes Make the Man was a motto taken to an extreme degree. Proper dressing was expected of everyone in the Townsend social circle. But nice clothes could hide some really nasty dirt, as he’d learned all too well during the summers he’d worked as an intern at the family firm.

  So when it g
ot right down to it, Barbi’s colorful clothes didn’t automatically say anything about what sort of person she might be. Maybe they were her armor, the same way his suits were for him.

  But if that was the case, what was she protecting herself from?

  * * *

  BARBI CALLED HANNAH late in the afternoon to see if she should still come for a tutoring session that evening.

  “Of course,” Hannah assured her. “How did things go with Brendan? We talked for a minute after I got back, but he didn’t say much. I think he’s feeling pretty sorry for himself.”

  “With this bug, I can’t blame him.”

  “It was really nice of you to go shopping for him.”

  “Not really. Remember, Jake was paying me.” But Barbi squirmed because the pay hadn’t included doing Brendan’s laundry or tidying the condo, and she’d done it anyway. What else could you do when a guy was as sick as that?

  “Be sure to collect when you get here. That guy throws money around as if it’s so much tissue paper.”

  “It must be nice to be rich.”

  Hannah laughed. “I suppose. I’ll see you later. Bring an appetite. I’m making a pot of soup.”

  “You don’t need to feed me.”

  “I know I don’t need to—I want to.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Barbi hung up and thought about what she’d said about being rich. It would be nice, but she’d settle for a place that didn’t have Victor Paulson living there. Once upon a time she’d loved her father, but after over twenty years of dealing with his boozing and violence and self-pity, there wasn’t much love left.

  Maybe that made her a terrible person. People were supposed to love their parents. And she couldn’t tell anyone how she felt; they probably wouldn’t understand. Or maybe in a weird way she was protecting Vic, so nobody would know exactly how bad he’d become.

  * * *

  “MOMMY, WHY COULDN’T I go with you and Jake today?”

  Hannah hung up the phone after talking to Barbi and looked down at her son. “Because you were sick a couple of days ago, and I need to be sure you’re well. Besides, you get the wiggles and Jake needs to concentrate. Maybe you can go with us later in the summer.” As much as Hannah wanted to include her son in the trips, now that she’d seen the way Jake worked, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

  “I’d be good. I like Jake.”

  “I know you do, but you can’t go with us all the time anyway. Sometimes we’ll be traveling too far, or hiking too much, so you’ll need to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s. They like seeing you, too. You also have day camp for a couple of weeks with all your friends. And then there’s vacation Bible school at the church.”

  Danny sighed, looking torn. “Gosh, I’m busy.”

  She hid a grin. “Yes, you are. I’m going to fix chicken-and-rice soup for dinner now. Does that sound good?”

  “Uh-huh, I’m tired of applesauce.”

  “I’ll bet you are.”

  Humming to herself, Hannah put the soup together. She had two committee meetings in the morning. And she would clean Huckleberry Lodge in the afternoon.

  Then on Wednesday she planned to take Jake down to Mount St. Helens and see what he made of it. The volcanic action of the Cascades wasn’t always pretty, but it was part of life in the mountains. Of course, knowing Jake, he’d probably witnessed an erupting volcano up close and personal. But surely it would still be interesting for him to see the remains of Mount St. Helens and the way the land had begun to repair itself.

  Jake had certainly seemed intrigued with the dogwood blossoms, or at least by the light surrounding them. It was doubtful that he could have faked that level of interest for several hours. Undoubtedly the photos would be brilliant, but she questioned whether he had captured what she loved about the trees in bloom, their white bracts heralding spring and summer. And maybe nobody could, because the way she saw them was filtered through years of memories.

  She stepped too quickly away from the stove and felt a twinge from her twisted ankle. It was uncomfortable, but she’d gone for strenuous hikes on much worse. The hardest part was not being able to jump in the hot tub over at Huckleberry Lodge.

  * * *

  WHEN JAKE WOKE up it was after eight in the evening. He’d practically collapsed after getting into Huckleberry Lodge, and that was following a long sleep in the Jeep while Hannah drove. But at least he’d managed to hike two miles and work for several hours without falling flat on his face.

  He rolled over on the sunroom couch, raised himself up on his elbows and looked out the open window. Barbi’s car was there, and he saw both women on the deck outside Silver Cottage, talking with a stack of books between them on the patio table. But while he could hear almost everything discussed by Hannah’s front door and in the compound between the two buildings, only whispers of sound came from the deck. The acoustics were different there, perhaps because it faced the lake.

  Interesting. They were out there two or three times a week, always with books and talking intently. He considered going over to pay Barbi for her shopping and trip to Brendan’s home, but she knew he was good for it and he didn’t want to intrude.

  Jake stretched and decided to go looking for dinner. Hannah had fed him a big lunch, but that had been hours ago and he was hungry again.

  Yet as his gaze settled on his knapsack, Jake forgot about food. Some of the old excitement had come back to him while he was photographing the dogwood flowers. It hadn’t been quite the same as before the plane crash, but it was something, and he’d relished feeling more like himself again.

  Yet also not entirely like himself. He’d been concerned about Hannah’s feelings in an unfamiliar way. He never got involved in people’s lives, even to a small degree, but when he’d seen that odd look on her face when she learned about Brendan being ill...

  Jake shook his head, deciding he was crazy. Making the arrangements for groceries was akin to offering assistance to a village while on his travels. His photography came first, but only a heartless jerk would refuse to pitch in when there was a damaging storm or earthquake. It didn’t mean he was getting involved with Hannah.

  He fired up his computer and got the SD cards from the cameras. The photographs appeared on the screen and he began evaluating them with a critical eye. Nothing unique, he decided, but a few captured that sense of a shimmering jewel hanging in the middle of a forest.

  Jewel.

  Jake snorted. The last thing he needed was to adopt Hannah’s flights of fancy. He accepted nature for what it was—sometimes hard and cruel, sometimes stunningly beautiful, but all very real. Not that he hadn’t encountered mystical and religious beliefs in the cultures he’d been exposed to over the years, but any immortality he might have would come from his photographs.

  Yet even as he thought about it, Jake once again clicked on his Arctic folder and looked at the pictures of Gordon. He’d liked Gordon. Though they hadn’t known each other for more than a few weeks, he still recalled his conversations with the old bush pilot and the way he could recite limericks and Robert Service’s poems by the hour. And the hint of humor when he’d listened to Toby complain...

  Jake frowned. Gordon’s humor, however subtle, had been missing the day of the crash. Could that have been an indication of his approaching heart attack? It was possible there had been other signs as well...signs that were missed. Did that mean one of them should have noticed and insisted they stay in the village that day?

  Someone like him, as the leader of the project?

  Frustrated, Jake got up and yanked open the refrigerator. Maybe he should just get rid of the shots of Gordon, but the pilot’s family might enjoy having the photographs. And he couldn’t make crappy memories go away by pushing the delete key.

  Jake’s good mood crumbled.

  Hell, one day of fai
r photography did not mean he’d gotten back on the right track.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “YOU’RE GOING TO Mount St. Helens with the photographer?” Hannah’s father asked on Tuesday evening. “Don’t you think that’s a lot for one day?”

  Hannah’s mother had invited her and Danny over for dinner, and she was sitting next to her dad as he repaired a leaky utility sink in the garage.

  “I’m just giving Jake Hollister a taste of the Cascades. How much he bites off is up to him.”

  Daniel Nolan chuckled. “I take it he still annoys you?”

  “Sometimes.” Yet she shifted uncomfortably, remembering the warmth she’d felt when Jake had kissed her cheek. Platonically, no less. “We had a decent outing yesterday, without any major debates, but when I went to clean at the lodge this afternoon, he was in a foul mood again. I think the hike on Monday may have been too much for him. He isn’t the type to admit he was in pain, so he acted like a churlish bear.”

  “Watch it—that’s your mother’s description of me on a bad day.”

  “You couldn’t come close to this guy. At least he didn’t upset Danny. They got to talking and Jake loosened up enough to tell him about the life cycle of the emperor penguin—apparently when he was nineteen he spent a winter in Antarctica taking pictures of them. I gotta tell you, his stories are a long way from Happy Feet.”

  “Say, that’s a cute film.”

  “Aren’t you the one who swore he’d never watch a cartoon?”

  “That’s before I had a grandson.”

  “You and Mom are alike.” Hannah handed him a pipe wrench. “Why do the rules change for grandchildren?”

  “They just do. Like Aunt Elkie used to say, ‘load ’em up with sugar and send ’em home.’”

  “She did that, didn’t she?”

  “Like clockwork.”

  Hannah smiled with the memories. Her great-aunt and uncle had taken the place of the grandparents she’d never known, and they’d spoiled her shamelessly. Funny how things could turn out—her dad had been raised in foster homes and her mom’s parents had drowned in India when she was sixteen. Carrie had been sent to live with Elkie and Larry, falling instantly in love with a handsome local high school student named Daniel Nolan.