Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys)

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Jake's Biggest Risk (Those Hollister Boys) Page 26

by Julianna Morris


  “You didn’t.” The reason she’d wanted to turn on the jets herself was out of concern for his leg, but he probably wouldn’t want to hear it.

  “I got an email from Toby last night,” Jake said unexpectedly. “He and his fiancée got married in Hawaii last weekend.”

  “And you disapprove.”

  “No.”

  Hannah lifted an eyebrow and Jake sighed. “I’ve finally accepted it. But I’m still going to miss him. I never expected to have an assistant, then the magazine foisted him on me for a trip to Indonesia. I’d cracked a couple of ribs and they thought someone should go along and do the heavy lifting.”

  “That was nice of them.”

  “Not exactly—they always want more control than I’m willing to give them. It pissed me off. There I was, saddled with a guy who cursed and complained endlessly...yet didn’t think twice about throwing himself into a raging river to pull me out.”

  “So you became friends.”

  “Yeah. And that wasn’t the only time he saved my life. Toby is a great guy. I’ll never be able to replace him. I’m not even going to try. From now on I’m working solo.”

  Hannah swallowed. It was hardly a secret that Jake had nearly died more than once, but she didn’t enjoy being reminded of it, either. Or of his determination to continue being a lone wolf. On the other hand...she thought about some of the things Jake had said over the past few weeks, little hints that there was more going on than his resentment over feeling trapped by his injuries.

  “Why solo?” she asked carefully.

  “It’s easier. Toby could have been killed in that plane, the same as the pilot.”

  “I thought the pilot died of heart failure,” Hannah said, startled that Jake had brought it up.

  “Gordon was having a heart attack,” Jake said, almost as if to himself. “The beds of his fingernails were blue, he was having trouble breathing, his chest hurt and he lost consciousness just before the crash. I was told it was his heart that killed him, but his injuries were severe, as well. It was probably just a race as to which caused his death.”

  “It’s terrible, but there was nothing you could do.”

  “Not exactly. He was in the plane because of me, the same with Toby. If I hadn’t hired him, he might have been closer to a doctor.”

  Hannah looked out at the lake. It was beautiful and serene, and the mountain above it glowed in the setting sun...the mountain where Collin had died. Jake was expressing the same illogical guilt that she’d felt after Collin’s accident, though there was nothing she could have done to prevent his death. Collin had gone too far, just as he always did, and that time it had killed him.

  Jake wasn’t as disconnected as he wanted to believe. He was compassionate and decent enough to care that a man had died, and was troubled that his friend could have been lost, as well.

  Oh, hell, what about when he’d stopped taking pictures of Mount Baker because she was there and would be caught in the storm with him? Or had worried that she was upset about Brendan being sick, so he paid to have Barbi get him groceries? Or admitted to Danny that he got scared, just like anyone else?

  That nearly brought tears to Hannah’s eyes each time she thought about it. Men didn’t confess that sort of thing easily. And yet Jake had admitted it to a child who hero-worshipped him, simply because he’d realized it was better for Danny to know that fear was normal.

  It was the sort of thing a father would do.

  “Jake, we’ve talked about my boyfriend who died on Mount Mahala,” Hannah said slowly, and he nodded. “A group of us kids went up together for a climb. It was supposed to be an easy day, but Collin could never let well enough alone. He always needed to push things a little bit further and take a few more risks than anyone else. We didn’t have the right equipment for anything more than casual climbing and I begged him not to take this one rock face, but he was determined. And then when he died...I felt so guilty.”

  “Even though it wasn’t your fault?”

  “Yeah. It was survivor guilt, Jake. It’s not logical, but it’s real. Maybe it was even worse because he wasn’t killed instantly, and all we could do was wait for help to come. The what-ifs haunted me for a long time.”

  “And you think that’s what I’m feeling.”

  “I’m no expert, but you’re alive while someone else isn’t. It’s bound to cause mixed emotions.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Hannah shifted closer to him, their legs brushing in the bubbling water. “Jake, working as a pilot was what Gordon chose to do. His death is very sad, but it wasn’t your fault for hiring him. And Toby could have refused to go on any of your expeditions, right? No one forced him to go.”

  “Of course not.”

  “People have to make their own choices. Collin chose to do something reckless that got him killed. Gordon became a bush pilot, even though bush pilots are often far from medical facilities. Toby freely took the job as your assistant. Would you rather have been alone all those years instead of having the friendship you shared with him?”

  “The risk of any relationship,” Jake murmured, almost to himself. “I heard a climber say that in Nepal after he lost a friend in an avalanche.”

  “Caring about someone is always a risk in one way or another,” Hannah said softly. It wasn’t a revelation, but since being with Jake felt like playing with fire, the idea had been on her mind a great deal. “I know I’m a fine one to talk, but would you rather be alone or take the risk of caring about someone? You seem to take every other risk in the world.”

  * * *

  JAKE DIDN’T SAY anything as he stared at the bubbling surface of the hot tub, remembering both the disastrous expedition on Sagarmatha and his feelings about the plane crash. Josie had put the climbing team together, determined to stand on the world’s highest peak and take photographs that would astonish everyone.

  Photographs that would cement her reputation as the foremost female photographer in the world.

  Damn.

  Jake would never know whether the fatalities were Josie’s fault, but he knew that he’d been eight years old, dealing with death for the first time. A flicker of the old anger he’d barely acknowledged came back to him. Josie may have had her own demons to fight, but she’d stayed separate from the son who’d needed her. Doug’s widow had been the one who’d sat next to him and held his hand.

  Then Josie had gone back to Sagarmatha without telling him. He’d been furious when he’d learned about it, thinking the photographs wouldn’t have been worth her life.

  Lord. What sort of hypocrite did that make him, readily sticking his own neck out for a great photo but disapproving of someone he loved doing it, as well?

  “Do you want to see the Arctic pictures?” Jake asked, surprising himself. “There are a few of Gordon in the collection.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll get the computer.” He got out, still in some pain, but the warm water had helped. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he fetched his laptop from the library. Back in the bedroom he found Hannah sitting on the love seat by the fire, wearing one of his T-shirts. Though too big, it looked far better on her than it ever had on him.

  Jake sat next to her. The computer booted quickly, and he opened the Arctic file. For the first time in his career, he didn’t try to just display the pictures that met his standards; he simply passed the laptop over.

  He didn’t know what to think or believe any longer.

  Hannah was making him feel as if setting down roots would be perfectly all right as long as she was with him. In fact, those roots were looking damned appealing, offering possibilities he’d never considered.

  He’d never been anywhere long enough to get invested in a place or a person—his mother’s restless spirit had moved them constantly when he was a
boy, and he’d lived the same way ever since. Hell, he wasn’t even close to Josie, and the nearest thing he had to a home was his studio in Costa Rica.

  Was that how he wanted to spend his entire life—moving, without any real sense of belonging?

  It was a troubling question. He loved the travel and excitement of new places, though there were times he felt lonely. And it would be harder now that Toby wouldn’t be with him. Toby had become a good friend, someone he trusted, and that wasn’t something that could simply be replaced by hiring someone new.

  * * *

  HANNAH LOOKED AT the pictures on the screen, swept into a world of ice and stark landscapes. Many photos she’d seen of polar bears and other Arctic animals didn’t capture their wildness, but Jake’s did. Some were so stunning they literally took her breath away.

  Oddly, since Jake rarely took pictures of people or human habitation, the most unusual photos were of the Inupiat villages he’d visited. Though she knew little of Inupiat life, it appeared modern conveniences were mixed with more traditional tools. One shot showed both a snowmobile and a dogsled.

  “That’s Gordon,” Jake said when she clicked on the next file. “He had this funny, wry way of looking at things. And he carved intricate chess pieces, using polar animals in place of the traditional figures.”

  The man on the screen was smiling and holding a coffee cup. His age was hard to determine, but there was something in his tranquil eyes that suggested he had seen a great deal.

  As she continued clicking through the pictures, she saw more of Gordon. She loved the ones of him playing with the children, and yet the pictures of him conferring with the village elders suggested long familiarity and respect for their customs. There was a natural feeling to the photos that made her almost believe she’d stumbled on to something going on in the next room.

  “These are amazing,” she said. “Lots of photos like this seem posed. These don’t, but they have great composition.”

  “The magazine asked for a few pictures of Inupiat tools,” Jake explained, looking almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t intending to take pictures of Gordon and the others—it just happened.”

  “But these pictures should be part of the article. These people’s lifestyle is part of the world up there.”

  “I’ll think about it. I have to go back anyway, to finish the assignment.”

  Before she could think about what that meant, Louie suddenly jumped onto Jake’s poorly protected lap. He shot to his feet with a yelp, while Hannah laughed so hard she had to grab the computer to keep it from landing on the floor.

  “Damned cat,” Jake growled.

  “Poor baby. I’m talking about the cat, you understand.” She leaned over and patted an offended Louie, who’d leaped onto the arm of the love seat.

  “Hey, he could have done serious damage.”

  “Probably mostly to your pride. But I’ll take a look.”

  She put the laptop to one side and tugged the damp towel from Jake’s hips. He glared, unabashed, as she examined his thighs and groin.

  “Looks as though it still works,” Hannah said, touching his arousal with her finger. “But you do have a tiny scratch right here.” She kissed the red mark on his thigh.

  “Are you just tormenting me, or are you planning to do something about it?” he demanded grumpily.

  “I’m not sure.” Hannah stood up and stretched, aware of his gaze fastened on her. “I could call the Mahalaton Rescue Squad.”

  “That isn’t funny.”

  “Only if you don’t know where those condoms are.”

  “I know exactly where to find them.”

  Jake relaxed, grinning as he pulled the T-shirt over her head and peeled the bathing suit from her body, taking his time as he uncovered her breasts, teasing her nipples before dipping his tongue in her belly button.

  “That tickles,” Hannah protested.

  “You laughed when the cat skewered me.”

  “Yeah, but I kissed and made it better.” She looped her arm around his neck.

  “Just give me a chance, lady.”

  Hannah’s last rational thought was that she’d love to give him a chance; she just didn’t think he wanted the chance she most wanted to offer.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BRENDAN FELT RIDICULOUSLY happy as he got out of the Lexus with Barbi and they walked toward his condo. He wasn’t sure where his relationship with her was going, but he’d never had more fun in his life. She had an amazing ability to find pleasure in the simple things.

  Yet it wasn’t just about sex.

  They were spending every free minute together, and tonight they’d gone miniature golfing down in Lower Mahalaton. Naturally she’d played as if it was a national pro tournament...all the while deliberately wiggling her butt and distracting him from his shots.

  “I want a rematch,” he said. “But you’re wearing a sweat suit next time, not those tight capris.”

  “You think that’ll work?”

  He hugged her and laughed. “Probably not. I guess you get to be on top,” he whispered in her ear. “Who could have guessed that losing would make me the winner? Any other bets you’d like me to lose?”

  “Maybe. Are you sure you’re from Boston?”

  Barbi still teased him about his New England upbringing, but she was getting him to loosen up in all sorts of ways. It was like having fresh spring air blowing through a stale attic. Everything was opening up inside him, making room for new things. He loved it. It was as if he’d been a genie trapped in his bottle, suddenly given freedom.

  “So this is where you been hiding, girl,” a slurred voice said from behind them. “Somebody told me you got a fancy new boyfriend.”

  Barbi’s back went rigid and she turned around. “Please d-don’t do this. Go away, Vic.”

  “I’m lonely. I need a bottle.” The man grabbed her arm and jerked. “I’m your daddy, and you owe me.”

  Brendan instantly remembered the bruises he’d seen on Barbi’s arm. “She owes you nothing. Leave her alone,” he ordered, angrier than he’d ever been before.

  “It’s none of yer business.”

  “I’m making it my business.” He stepped toward Paulson. The guy threw a punch, but Brendan sidestepped easily and employed a move from his high school boxing team days.

  Vic Paulson went down with a thud.

  * * *

  BARBI COULD HARDLY breathe as she watched her father lying on the ground, clutching his stomach.

  She could see genuine fear in Vic’s eyes, and memories rushed in of all the times he’d terrified her as a child, and then later as an adult. She suddenly understood that leaving town wasn’t the answer. She had to deal with Vic, or else she’d be running her entire life whenever something scared her.

  Mahalaton Lake was her home and she wouldn’t let anyone take it away from her. If she left, it needed to be her own choice.

  When Vic finally stopped gasping, Barbi leaned over and looked him in the eyes. “You’re not sponging off me any longer, Vic. Not one more dime. Don’t come around ever again. I don’t want to hear about how lonely you are, or how hard it was to lose Mom. It was hard for me, too. I was just a kid and needed my father, but you quit. If you ever touch me again, I’ll press charges and make sure you go to jail. And I’ll use this on you.”

  Barbi pulled out the pepper spray she carried in her pocket, but had always been too frozen with fear to use.

  “Right in the eyes,” she promised, pointing it at him for effect. “You’ll wish you were dead.”

  As Vic scooted backward in the grass, Barbi realized he was a coward at heart—as most bullies were. He hadn’t been able to face the loss of his wife and raising a child alone, so he’d dug a hole and climbed in it with a vodka bottle.

  “You wouldn’t do that to y
our own father,” he whined.

  “Yes, I would. In a second. And you’d be smart to leave town, because I don’t care anymore if people know how lousy you are. I’m getting a restraining order, and you’ll be arrested if you come anywhere near me.”

  She’d loved him once, but that had been a long time ago.

  Barbi turned to Brendan, hoping he wouldn’t be so disgusted he didn’t want anything more to do with her. But if he was, that was his problem. She refused to apologize for who she was, ever again. “Let’s go in. Our ice cream is melting.”

  “Yeah.”

  Brendan kissed her forehead before picking up the grocery bag he’d dropped during the confrontation with Vic.

  Inside he insisted on checking her wrist, looking angry again when he saw the red marks on her skin. “Damn it, how long have you been dealing with him like this?”

  “Since I was nine and my mom died. It’s too bad you had to get involved.”

  “No, it isn’t. You were only nine? That’s terrible. Why didn’t somebody do something about it?”

  Barbi put the ice cream in the freezer. “Well, I kind of protected him, you know—cleaned up when he got drunk, and didn’t tell people when he knocked me around.”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Brendan said adamantly, and she felt more of her tension and uncertainty fall away.

  “To be honest, I’ve been so scared of Vic, I hardly ever fought back. I guess I could have stopped him a long time ago, but I didn’t know how. But when I saw Vic lying there, I realized he was a bigger coward than I could ever be.”

  She couldn’t tell much from Brendan’s expression, but he almost looked...proud.

  “I think you were wonderful.”

  “You should also know I never finished high school. I dropped out to get a job, but I’m studying for my GED now. Hannah has been helping me.”

  * * *

  BRENDAN COULD TELL Barbi expected him to reject her on the spot, but he’d sooner cut off his right arm.

  If he’d been looking for meaning in his life when he moved to Mahalaton Lake, he didn’t have to look further. He loved Barbi. He’d told her things he had never told anyone...things about his family and Maria and the reasons he hadn’t joined Townsend & Associates back in Boston. And she understood him in a way no one ever had.

 

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