Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys)

by Julianna Morris

  Jake shot a quick look at Hannah as she talked to a young couple who’d arrived a few minutes before. She loved her mountains, and he realized he should be listening...not so much for the information, but for her feelings and the way she saw the land around them.

  It was an unsettling notion because he wasn’t comfortable needing anyone from a creative standpoint. Or from any standpoint, for that matter.

  “Where can we dig to find Mount St. Helens emeralds?” the woman asked as Jake stepped closer.

  A pained expression crossed Hannah’s face. “The emeralds are manufactured—they weren’t formed by the volcano.”

  “We thought they blew out of the mountain when it erupted,” the young man explained.

  “No, though they’re made with a small amount of ash collected outside the monument. Everything within the boundaries is protected, so even if there were emeralds here, you couldn’t take them.”

  “Oh.” The woman wrinkled her nose and looked at her companion. “Honey, if we leave now, we’ll probably have time to go shopping at those factory-outlet places we saw on the freeway.”

  “I don’t know if any of the outlet stores carry Mount St. Helens emeralds,” Hannah warned quickly.

  “No worries. Give me the Gap and I’m happy.”

  Hannah didn’t say anything until they’d gotten in their bright red SUV and driven away.

  “Okay, they may have watched a few too many movies,” she admitted, “though I can’t think of any films where a volcano spits out gemstones. I wonder if they thought the emeralds were already cut and ready to be set in jewelry.”

  “It almost sounded like it.”

  “Well, I’ll wait in the Jeep and read while you take pictures. I brought lunch, so let me know when you’re hungry.”

  “Sure.” Jake watched as she walked to the Jeep and got in.

  He was already hungry, just not for food. The memory of telling Hannah about his opinions on marriage came back to him, and he sighed. While he hadn’t consciously warned her off, it had probably been a subconscious warning. It was risky to be attracted to a woman the way he was attracted to Hannah, and working together was just making it worse.

  Frustrated, he lifted his camera and began shooting a series of photos that weren’t intended as art, but to help him plan and make decisions.

  There was something evocative about the wreckage around him, triggering sensations he couldn’t define. The land had been stripped naked—every rock, every hillock and small valley, every scar still revealed. But it wasn’t the first time it had happened in the long geologic history of the mountains, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  How can you take the best photographs if you don’t see the soul beyond the beauty?

  Hannah’s question echoed in Jake’s mind, and he felt his jaw tighten. But it wasn’t the criticism of his work that bothered him. She obviously operated from an emotional level, while he approached life analytically. Yet often there was an expression in her eyes, as if she knew something he didn’t...which was a ridiculous thought.

  He’d experienced dozens of cultures in his childhood, but Josie had made sure he didn’t get caught up in their spiritual beliefs. It was understandable; while Josie had told him little about her childhood, he knew her parents had been religiously hidebound people who’d cared more about their moral principles than her well-being.

  Forget it, he ordered. His art was the important thing.

  Jake’s camera pack was on his shoulder and he put a more powerful lens on than the one he’d been using. It was a toy compared to others he used, but still dramatically magnified the broken mountain peak.

  There was a wisp of steam or smoke rising around the new cinder cone that was building in the center. The foundation of Mount St. Helens already lay on an older volcano, and one day this new one would probably rest on both.

  Jake snapped several pictures and looked back down at Spirit Lake. As he stared, he thought he heard a few haunting chords of music, like a low moaning.

  What the hell?

  There were ancient stories everywhere he went, and while their roots might be based in historical fact, the myths accompanying them were not. Another low note sounded, and Jake looked back at the Jeep.

  Hannah’s head was bent over, though she frequently raised it and looked out at the mountain. He strode to the Jeep and opened the door. Soft flute music was coming from the SUV’s speakers; the sounds he’d heard must have been the result of some odd trick of acoustics.

  “Is something wrong?” Hannah asked, retrieving the paperback book she’d dropped out of surprise.

  “Nothing. That is, I could hear the music. A little of it, at least.”

  “This CD is by one of my favorite musicians, R. Carlos Nakai. I heard someone playing a Native American flute up here when I was a teenager. But it wasn’t for money or to entertain visitors—he said it was a song of healing for the land. Ever since then, I’ve tried to play something similar when I visit.”

  The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Do you honestly believe that stuff?”

  “I’d rather believe in something than have nothing to hold on to.” Her gaze was sad when she looked at him. “You’ve seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, Jake. How can you not believe in something greater than yourself when you see mountains falling away from you like waves, or trees that were already old when Charlemagne ruled France?”

  “Why does it matter to you?”

  “Because you remind me of someone I knew who died, terrified and certain that it was the absolute end. The strange thing was that Collin constantly courted death, even though he believed there was nothing but a blank void on the other side.” Her voice caught.

  “You’re talking about your friend who died in the mountain-climbing accident.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you loved him.”

  “As much as a seventeen-year-old girl can love a boy.”

  Hell. He had never known a woman long enough to hear the details of her first love, and Hannah’s story had ended far more tragically than most. No wonder she was so sensitive about people taking what she considered foolish risks.

  “Losing him like that must have been awful,” Jake said awkwardly. “Is that why you’re so protective of Danny?”

  “I’m protective of Danny because I’m his mother. Um, don’t you have some pictures to take?”

  Plainly, Hannah didn’t want to talk any longer, which was fine with Jake. Death wasn’t the most comfortable subject for someone who’d recently come close to dying himself.

  “Yeah. But could you turn the music off? It’s distracting.”

  “I don’t see how you heard it out there, but I’ll use headphones.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jake walked away, wondering what it was about Hannah that challenged him at every turn. He’d thought he had her figured out as just another bitter divorcée, but she was far more complicated.

  At least he’d discovered where the music was coming from. But an hour later, at the far end of the parking lot, a few strains of eerie, haunting music sounded again in Jake’s ear. He whirled around. A number of cars had come and gone, but they were alone again, and he was certain those notes couldn’t have come from Hannah’s headphones.

  He pressed a finger to his temple. If he said something, she’d probably just remind him of the legend of Spirit Lake and the lost canoe of fishermen. Or maybe she’d claim it was the echo of the Native American flute music she had heard years ago...that it was the musician’s healing song, lingering on the land.

  But no matter how intriguing that sounded, it wasn’t either one.

  The musical notes were just his imagination— everyone had one, though his might be a little stunted. After all, what child needed an imagination when their playpen was an African sav
annah or the windswept reaches of the Himalayas?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HANNAH TURNED THE pages of her novel, trying to focus on the plot rather than Jake Hollister. It was difficult to keep up with new releases and she was years behind.

  On the other hand, she could recite almost everything from Dr. Seuss and Where the Wild Things Are, courtesy of bedtime reading with Danny. It was doubtful that Jake knew anything about the silly, fun Seuss rhymes with their clever bits of wisdom for children and adults alike.

  Sighing, she looked up.

  Jake was some distance away, shooting pictures of Mount St. Helens, but it wasn’t with the same intensity he’d taken the photos of the dogwood blossoms. It didn’t surprise her. People either understood what was special about the volcano, or they took a snapshot and hurried on to visit the Seattle Space Needle or see the majesty of Mount Rainier...or in some cases, to visit the Gap.

  Not that Hannah didn’t love Mount Rainier. It was the king of the Cascades, so beautiful it was almost unearthly, surrounded by flowered meadows and ancient forests. She’d picked huckleberries on its lower slopes, taken the rigorous trek to its summit as a teenager and explored miles and miles of its trails.

  Each peak in the mountain range had its own beauty, even the ravaged form of Mount St. Helens. And it was a reminder of the volcanic roots of the mountains, a stark reminder of nature’s power.

  Usually the vast grandeur made her problems seem less significant, but today Hannah couldn’t get Brendan out of her mind for more than a few minutes.

  Sighing, she put her book down and took out her cell phone. She couldn’t delay talking to Brendan forever, and unpleasant tasks just got harder the longer they were put off.

  “Townsend Law Office,” the secretary answered.

  “Hi, Renee, it’s Hannah Nolan. Is Brendan available?”

  “Sure, his appointment just left.”

  “Hannah,” Brendan exclaimed a moment later. “I’m glad you called. I feel terrible about Sunday—I don’t know what came over me. And then you were still so nice to have Barbi come over to help when I was sick.”

  “Uh, yeah. Are you available for lunch tomorrow? We should talk.”

  A short silence followed. “That sounds ominous. Why don’t you go ahead and say what you want to say right now?”

  Hannah squirmed. “If that’s what you prefer. The thing is, the more we get to know each other, the fewer things we seem to have in common.”

  “If this is about hiking and wild berries and such, I can learn.”

  “But you’re not interested in it. And it’s not only that. You’re a great guy, you just aren’t the right one for me, and I would hate for you to develop expectations that aren’t going anywhere.”

  There was a second silence, much longer this time.

  “Are you sure?” he asked finally.

  “Yes. I’d like to stay friends, but I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same.”

  “Of course I want to be friends. But...uh, I’d better go now. I have another client coming in. Goodbye,” Brendan said quickly, then disconnected.

  As Hannah dropped her phone in her backpack, she wished he’d gotten angry. But he was too much of a gentleman. Now she felt guilty for letting things drag on when in her heart of hearts she’d known for weeks that nothing could happen between them. There should have been some excitement when she saw Brendan...a little tingle when he kissed her, with the promise of more to develop. Instead everything had remained very polite and cordial.

  Hannah got out of the Jeep and stretched.

  It was late in the morning now, and the number of cars in the Windy Ridge parking area had increased. A park ranger had arrived as well and was talking to a group. Normally she’d hurry over to hear anything new there was to learn, but she was too edgy.

  Jake turned around as she approached.

  “Hi. Are you getting hungry?” she asked. “It’s been hours since breakfast.”

  “I could eat.”

  Because of the cool breeze, they sat in the Jeep. Hannah hadn’t expected to go hiking today, so she’d prepared an old-fashioned picnic with fried chicken and potato salad.

  “This is really good,” Jake said as he ate. He’d sniffed the potato salad suspiciously—apparently never having tasted it before—eaten a tentative bite and was now wolfing it down. In Hannah’s world, potato salad wasn’t exotic, but exotic was really a matter of perspective. “By the way, I’ll have my business manager reimburse you for the meals. I didn’t think about food for these trips.”

  “No need. I have to eat, too, and I made enough for my parents and Danny.”

  “I usually just have trail mix when I’m working.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Hannah wiped her hands on a napkin. She handed him a container of brownies and peeled a banana for herself.

  Jake ate a brownie, reminding her of a little boy as he licked a streak of chocolate frosting from his finger.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said, taking a second brownie. “Since climbing isn’t allowed on this side of the volcano, I’ll have to bring specialized equipment to take some of the pictures here. So if you want to head back to Mahalaton Lake, it’s fine with me. I’ll shoot placeholder photos as we drive.”

  “I don’t mind pulling over whenever you want, but what do you mean by placeholder?”

  “That’s just what I call them. Basically, they’re general location photos that don’t aim for high quality, but help me plan an extended day of shooting. I can come back on a weekend when you’re at one of your community events.”

  “In that case, I’ll leave my maps in the Jeep.” She always carried a full set of maps in case there was a road problem and she needed an alternate route. The GPS on her smartphone was a great tool, but it was nice to look at a map and get a mental picture of where she needed to go.

  “Thanks.”

  Hannah tucked the food containers away and drove out of the parking lot, going well below the speed limit so Jake could get the pictures he’d planned.

  When he’d finally settled back and was dealing with the SD cards, she glanced at him. “I’ve been wondering if you’re getting the pictures you want. I mean, with me needing to leave by a certain time to be home for Danny. If this isn’t working out the way you want, we can always quit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You, me...going on these outings together. And just so you know, there are professional guides available in Mahalaton Lake. They take groups into the back country in all seasons of the year.”

  “Why would I want to stop going with you?”

  Hannah shrugged and concentrated on driving. It was Jake Hollister’s business how he spent his money, and all the fees he was paying were putting her way ahead on her finances.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING HANNAH sat in the kitchen, talking on the phone to Wendy Schell, who was vice president of the Mahalaton Lake Fire Department auxiliary. A water pipe had broken at the church where the MLFD’s annual pancake supper was traditionally served, and anyone would have thought the world was coming to an end. Wendy had a talent for overreacting.

  “Wendy, one of my dad’s construction crews is at the church right now doing the repairs. It’s going to be all right,” she said for the third time.

  “But I saw how much water there was, and the dinner is just three days away. We’ve got signs and flyers all over town. I don’t see how we can change locations,” Wendy wailed.

  “Dad said everything will be back to normal sometime tomorrow.”

  “But there’ll be damage to the floor.”

  “Nope, Dad says it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Hannah cut her off hastily. “It’s fine.”

  Though she was a me
mber of the MLFD auxiliary, she wasn’t on the committee for their monthly suppers. But Gwen was away visiting her family for a few days and had told Wendy to call Hannah’s cell “if anything comes up.”

  “All right,” Wendy said, though obviously reluctant to let the subject go. “You’re such a dear. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Hannah bit her lip to keep from saying something inappropriate. “You would have managed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  She disconnected before the other woman could rev herself up again. Wendy was in her sixties, widowed with no children and hungry to feel needed. Most people in Mahalaton Lake tried to be understanding of her desperate desire for attention, but it could be difficult to deal with nonetheless.

  Rubbing the tight muscles at the back of her neck, Hannah checked on Danny. He was sound asleep with Badger lying at the foot of the bed.

  “Stay, boy,” she whispered when the retriever lifted his head.

  Putting the cell in her pocket, she went across the yard to Huckleberry Lodge. She wouldn’t feel comfortable about going anywhere with Jake until Wendy was convinced there was no more drama to milk from the situation...or until Gwen got home, which was supposed to be by early afternoon the next day.

  Yet even as the thought came, Hannah scolded herself. Wendy wasn’t a bad person, she was just insecure.

  Hannah knocked and waited, but didn’t get a response. She was halfway back to Silver Cottage to write a note when she heard Jake’s voice.

  “Hannah, is something wrong?”

  She turned around.

  Lord, he was only wearing a towel wrapped around his hips. Her stomach instantly clenched with awareness. “Uh, not really, but I need to cancel our plans for tomorrow.”

  “You sound tense. Come in for a minute while I dry off. I was in the hot tub.” He disappeared back into the lodge without giving her a chance to refuse.