Jake, a voice in her head whispered.
Yeah, just the new father figure her son needed. Yet when she thought about the night with the skunk and Jake’s admission about being sometimes scared, she had to wonder.
“Is there any more coffee?” Jake asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Hannah pulled out the thermos—a thirty-two-ounce stainless-steel thermos bottle her family had taken on outings for at least twenty years—and poured him a cup.
Jake sniffed the steaming brew with apparent appreciation. “Thanks.”
“Do you have coffee when you go on one of your longer expeditions?”
“Sure. It doesn’t taste like yours, though there’s something special about drinking it in the wildest places in the world. There’s nothing like being in a place few people have ever been before.”
“Then a place isn’t worth your time if a lot of people have been there?”
Jake frowned. “That isn’t what I meant. Not exactly. But I want to take the most unique photos possible. How long will the drive to Mount Baker take?”
“Once we get to the town of Glacier, it’s only about an hour,” Hannah said, deciding that talking was better than thinking stupid things. “But it offers high-country views that you usually can’t get without backpacking.”
“Yeah, and that will have to do, since you refuse to take me to the more inaccessible parts of the range,” Jake said, an edge returning to his voice.
Hannah pressed her lips together. The moderate hiking they were doing was one thing; going into rough country with a heavy load was another. Jake had pushed for a backpack trip into the Enchantment Lakes Basin—particularly to Lake Viviane, considered by some to be the most beautiful alpine lake in the Cascades. But it was a strenuous climb and would take several days. She’d told him she would consider a trip there...when Owen Kershaw and a doctor cleared him for it. Jake hadn’t been pleased.
“You can always hire someone else to take you around,” she told him. “I’m not stopping you.”
“I just wish you’d be more reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable. Owen said you could pursue normal daily activity, but backpacking doesn’t qualify.”
“I’m improving much faster than anyone expected. It may not take a full year to get back to where I was.”
Hannah didn’t respond. They both knew the bruised nerves in his leg were healing the way nerves healed...slowly. She’d overheard Owen emphasizing it the last time he was at the lodge for a therapy session. And maybe the nerves didn’t need to be fully recovered for Jake to return to his old life, but he’d be taking a chance.
At Burlington they left the freeway to take a state highway, and switched drivers. Hannah had brought Danny to Mount Baker the summer before, but he’d gotten scared on the switchbacks. It was nerve-racking—in some places the road almost felt suspended in air as it twisted upward.
Before long they’d passed the little town of Glacier.
“Do you want to visit Nooksack Falls now or after we go up the mountain?” she asked a few minutes later. “It’s just a mile off the byway.”
“After. According to the weather service, a small front is coming in, and that should make for dramatic pictures up at the viewpoint.”
Hannah’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. She should have checked the weather herself instead of leaving it to Jake. Her priorities were quite different from his, including staying alive to raise her child. For a brief moment she considered refusing to go any farther, but they were less than twenty miles from Artist Point.
“Fair warning, I’m turning around if we get thunder and lightning out there,” she warned. “And if it gets too bad, we’re staying put until it’s over.”
Jake didn’t look happy about it but didn’t argue.
Shortly after passing the Silver Fir Campground, they emerged from dense forest and the road began snaking its way up the mountains. There were few people on the road—probably because of the weather forecast—and Hannah grimly concentrated on driving. It was only when they arrived at Artist Point and parked that she relaxed.
Though she wasn’t thrilled about the gathering clouds, she helped Jake carry his equipment out to the spectacular vista of Mount Baker. Almost instantly, his expression intensified the way it always did when his photographer’s instincts took over.
Hannah sighed and sat down with her book. It was going to be a long wait.
* * *
JAKE WASN’T AWARE of anything except the storm developing over the jagged peak of the mountain. It was eternally white, the most glaciated of all the volcanic peaks in the Cascades, which wasn’t surprising considering the amount of snow it got in a single year.
And maybe some today, he thought as the clouds roiled. He took picture after picture, switching lenses and changing settings, compelled by the ice-carved landscape.
A spatter of rain distracted him only because he needed to protect his equipment. Automatically he held out his hand for one of the plastic hoods he used to shield his cameras...only to remember that Toby wasn’t there any longer, anticipating his needs.
Damn.
He missed the guy, even missed his complaints. Missing anyone was a new sensation, and not one he particularly enjoyed. Jake pulled the protective hood from his bag, only to stop and look back at Hannah.
She’d fallen asleep, her jacket wrapped tightly around her. If it start raining much harder, she’d get wet and chilled.
Jake glanced back at the mountain with the weather front poised over it, perfect for photos...then rapidly broke down his equipment and stowed it away.
“Hannah.” He shook her shoulder. “It’s starting to rain. Let’s get going.”
She glanced at her watch. “You haven’t been working that long.”
“We can’t stay—you’ll get wet.”
“Oh.” She blinked, but didn’t say anything else, for which Jake was deeply grateful. He didn’t want to examine his reasons for stopping early; he never stopped working for something like rain. Some of his best shots had been taken during brief breaks in the weather.
By the time they’d hiked the mile back to the parking area where the Jeep sat alone, the rain was falling in fits and starts from a sky that had grown ominously dark. They stowed his gear and got inside as the clouds began dumping torrents, reducing visibility to only a few feet.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Hannah murmured. “We might as well have lunch.”
She shimmied into the backseat and he followed, though it was a much tighter fit for him. He reached into the cargo area and pulled out the cooler bag. Two sandwiches and a hot cup of coffee from the thermos later, it was still raining, but they were warmer, since the survival gear they’d stowed in the Jeep included blankets. Jake hadn’t thought the gear was necessary, thinking of the Cascades as little more than a kiddie playground, but after viewing the sharp slopes of Mount Baker and other peaks they’d seen driving up, he was realizing his mistake.
The windows were fogged, and he rubbed a clear space to look out. The rain was still so heavy, he could see little except rivers of water flowing over the ground.
“At least it isn’t snowing,” he muttered.
“Perish the thought. In some spots Mount Baker can get over a thousand inches of snow annually. We’re at a lower elevation here, of course, though snow is probably possible any day of the year.”
He instantly pictured more than eighty feet of snow rising around the Jeep. Even with his experience traveling in extreme terrains and weather, it wasn’t pretty.
“So if you had the train set shipped to Seattle, what else did you buy from Vince?” Hannah asked. “You had two bags when we left the craft fair.”
“I got a train set for Danny, too.”
She blinked. “Oh. That’s really nice of y
ou. Vince Gilson does wonderful work.”
“Yeah.” Jake stirred restlessly. “He mentioned having a bum leg. Is that why he got into wood carving?”
* * *
HANNAH FINALLY REALIZED why Jake’s mood had deteriorated so badly on Friday—talking to Vince had been a reminder about his own injury.
“Vince worked as a logger for more than twenty years,” she said carefully. “He was hurt several times, but the last accident was the worst. He took up wood carving while he was laid up, and now has quite a reputation throughout the region. Galleries carry his work from Vancouver, Canada, to Portland, Oregon.”
“I’m surprised he bothers making toys.”
“I think Vince and Norma just love kids. They’ve got seven grandchildren. Norma helps him in the business, painting or staining the pieces and handling the internet orders.”
Jake stretched and Hannah nearly groaned as she watched him. They’d come close to making love on Friday, and her body still remembered that she hadn’t followed through.
“Can’t they do anything for Vince?” Jake asked. “A better surgeon, maybe? I could call my orthopedist in Seattle for a consult. He’s Layne’s father. I’m sure he’d take the case. And I could help with some of the expense if money is a problem.”
Hannah’s heart melted. For all of Jake’s faults, he did care about people...he just didn’t want to acknowledge that part of himself. He’d even abandoned today’s work because of her, and she’d seen enough of his photos to know he favored the dramatic weather that had been developing over the mountain.
She inched closer to him.
“You could talk to the Gilsons, but I know they’ve seen more than one specialist.”
Her blanket had fallen to the Jeep floor and Jake lifted the edge of his and tucked it around them both. Heat suffused her, making her breasts throb and stomach clench.
Leaning over, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly. He started to draw back and her body screamed.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “We’re up here alone.... I’d never take advantage.”
“Fine. I will.” Hannah grabbed the lapels of his shirt and kissed him again.
Suddenly his hands were everywhere, tugging clothes aside, exploring and caressing. Her jeans were damp from the rain they’d walked through and it was difficult getting them off, but she finally kicked them free, and his fingers slid under her bikini briefs to cup her bottom.
“You feel so good,” Jake breathed against her neck. “That night on the couch, I’d never touched anything so soft. Do you know how much sleep I’ve lost thinking about it? Not to mention the cold showers I’ve taken.”
She nearly laughed. “What about last Friday?”
Jake tipped his head back and surveyed her. “You looked like a sun goddess. I wanted to see all of you. Every inch.”
“I don’t think exposing every inch is practical in the Jeep.”
“Do you—”
A sharp tap on the window from outside of the Jeep startled them both.
“It’s the Forest Service,” called a voice. “Is everything all right in there?”
“Uh, fine,” Hannah called back, frantically pulling her T-shirt and bra into place. She kicked Jake when he didn’t move, and he zipped his jeans. “Just a minute.”
She somehow got her own jeans on, then rubbed a clear spot on the fogged window. A man in a Forest Service uniform stood nearby.
Hannah opened the door. There were a few drops of rain still falling, but the sheets of water inundating the parking area had stopped.
“Uh, hello. We didn’t think it was safe to drive in the storm. We were eating a late picnic lunch and didn’t realize conditions had improved.”
“It’s good you stayed put, but you should go down now that we have a break in the weather—the road could freeze over later. I’ll lead the way, slow and easy.”
She smiled brightly. “Wonderful. We’ll turn the engine on and start the windows defogging.”
“Yes, ma’am. Just flash your lights when you’re ready.” The ranger tipped his hat and returned to his vehicle. Though his expression had remained neutral, she had the feeling he knew exactly what they’d been doing.
Hannah cast a glance at Jake. He looked more frustrated than she’d ever seen him. “Well, now you’ve had another cultural experience, though it’s one most of us get out of the way as teenagers.”
“What’s that?” Jake asked grumpily.
“Necking in a car and getting busted by the cops with your pants unzipped.”
To her astonishment, he burst out laughing.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HANNAH FOCUSED ON the forestry vehicle moving slowly ahead of them on the road and was grateful that Jake remained silent. The first ten miles were the most nerve-racking since the elevation dropped quickly, but her watchful tension didn’t fully ease until the denser forest closed around them.
The forest ranger obviously agreed that the worst was over because he turned into the Silver Fir Campground and waved as they passed.
“Nice guy,” Jake commented at last.
“Who probably thought we were crazy as loons to go up to the point with bad weather predicted,” Hannah returned crisply. From now on she was checking the predictions herself before going anywhere with Jake.
“Don’t start on that death-wish thing again,” he warned. “I have a healthy appreciation for being alive. I just prefer taking a certain kind of photograph.”
What’s wrong with diversifying? Hannah thought wryly. “Okay, I take back the near-death-wish thing, but your ‘certain kind of photograph’ could still get you killed.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because Danny idolizes you.” Among other reasons.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I won’t tell him any more stories. Maybe that will help.”
Hannah smiled sadly, thinking about the way Jake had stopped taking pictures of Mount Baker because she might get wet. Or how he’d helped out after Badger and Danny got sprayed by the skunk. For that matter, his friendship with his longtime photography assistant was endearing. There was a good person inside Jake, even if he didn’t want to see it.
“It isn’t just the stories,” she said. “And Danny would think he’d done something wrong if you stopped telling them. But when you leave, he’s going to read about you on the internet and never stop hoping you’ll come back. He doesn’t have a father like his friends, but now he has heroic Jake Hollister, intrepid photographer, to look up to.”
“Crap. I’m no hero.”
“There are all kinds of heroes, Jake, including guys willing to take the time to tell stories to a kid. And if something ever happened to you...”
“I’m not reckless, Hannah.”
She no longer knew what to think. Her heart was too involved—so much that she’d found herself wondering if things could work out if they both made compromises. It wouldn’t change her concern about Danny losing someone he loved, but Jake had shown he could be a good father if he wanted to be.
Of course, it was ridiculous to have those thoughts. Jake was famous, both for his photographs and disreputable father. An internet search on his name turned up thousands of hits, and many art critics called him the Ansel Adams of the twenty-first century.
That was huge.
He’d end up in history books, be the subject of encyclopedia articles and was probably already in Who’s Who in America. That kind of man didn’t get serious about small-town schoolteachers.
Hannah flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, glad Jake had focused on his cameras, probably to avoid the awkward moment.
It was still wet, but the sun was peeping out through the clouds, creating a rainbow. In Washington the weather was often like that—it could be storming one minute, and the next minute su
nlight could be glinting against rain-washed surroundings.
“See the rainbow?” she asked, pointing. It arced through a section of the sky, seeming to begin and end in turbulent, silver-crested clouds. “Jake, look,” she repeated.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, barely glancing up. Apparently rainbows didn’t inspire his photographer’s eye the way the steep slopes and ice of Mount Baker had done. He’d been fascinated by Mount Shuksan as well, thinking it was Baker when first spotted.
They turned off to stop at Nooksack Falls, and though it wasn’t a glacier-covered mountain peak, Jake spent the rest of the afternoon photographing the waterfall. Hannah read, occasionally watching him work, marveling that he could be surrounded by breathtaking beauty and still see no mystery or wonder in it.
Finally Jake packed his cameras away again.
“I’ll drive,” he said as they put his equipment back in the cargo area. “So you can get some rest...in case you’re interested in continuing what we started earlier.”
“I’m interested.”
Making love with Jake could make things harder in the end, but at the moment she didn’t care.
Jake’s eyes gleamed, yet he insisted they drive all the way to Bellingham for lodging...then asked for two rooms at the registration desk, albeit adjoining rooms.
It was a nice hotel, the kind with bellhops, and one of them helped bring their belongings up to their rooms, though Jake moved his own photographic equipment. While he didn’t seem to mind her handling his gear, he wouldn’t let anybody else touch it.
“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else?” the bellhop asked eagerly after receiving a generous tip. Until then he’d been polite but not enthusiastic. Now it seemed he couldn’t do enough for them. “Money talks” wasn’t a cultural lesson Jake needed to learn about America, or maybe it was just true of most cultures.
“No, that’s all.”
When they were alone, Jake held up the plastic card key for her room. “It’s your decision.”
Hannah took the key and lobbed it over his head, into the room beyond. Even if it was a mistake to have sex with Jake, she’d made her decision.
Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys) Page 22
