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HANNAH WAS SEETHING.
She’d seen the excitement on Danny’s face disappear at a single sharp word from Jake Hollister and she wanted to strangle the man. For some reason her son had been drawn to the tall photographer, only to be rebuffed. She didn’t expect her tenant to be buddies with a seven-year-old boy, but was common courtesy too much to expect?
“Honestly, he’s a nice person,” Andy repeated urgently. “Don’t be misled by first impressions.”
Hannah fixed her gaze on Andy. How could he be associated with such a bad-mannered, pompous ass as Jake Hollister?
“You mean he’s rich and talented, so he gets away with murder.”
Andy made a helpless gesture. “No. I’m the first to admit that Jake is focused and intense when working on a project, but that’s the perfectionist in him. He has his faults, but you have to understand how much pain he’s in right now—it’s a miracle he survived that plane crash and being hauled by dogsled for fourteen miles. Then there was the delay in flying him out for medical care. He’ll recover, but it’s hard for him to accept limitations, however temporary.”
Hannah shifted her feet.
In the five days since she’d first talked to Lillian about leasing Huckleberry Lodge to Jake Hollister, she’d learned plenty about him. Some had come from a telephone conversation with Andy and the rest from Lillian, who was dazzled at the thought of meeting someone famous. Yet Hannah wondered if she would stay impressed with Mr. Hollister once she got a dose of his bad manners.
“It’s all right, isn’t it, Hannah?” Andy asked anxiously. No doubt he was accustomed to working with temperamental artists who flew off the handle at the slightest thing. Hannah had a healthy temper as well, but she couldn’t afford to try breaking the lease agreement.
“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it,” she assured him, though she already regretted agreeing to clean house for her new tenant.
Andy smiled his awkward smile. “Good. I’d hate it if I wasn’t welcome in Mahalaton Lake.”
“No chance of that. But since I’m not needed here, I’m going to check on Danny.”
“I... Oh, sure. I’ll probably leave as soon as Jake is unpacked, so take care.”
“You, too.”
She hurried away with her bucket of cleaning supplies. Silver Cottage—the living area over the four-car garage—was a very nice home, with a third-floor family room, two bedrooms, lots of closets and a splendid kitchen. Best of all, it had a spacious living room and a deck with a view of the lake. When Great-Aunt Elkie was alive, she’d rented out Silver Cottage to skiers instead of Huckleberry Lodge. It wasn’t that she’d needed the income; she had just liked having people around.
Danny was lying on his stomach on the living room floor, drawing a picture, their golden retriever next to him.
“That’s a great dragon,” Hannah said.
He shrugged, a small pout on his mouth.
“Don’t be upset about Mr. Hollister,” she murmured. “He got hurt awfully bad a while ago. You saw him limping, didn’t you?”
Danny didn’t look up. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, sometimes people in pain don’t feel very friendly.”
“But if he doesn’t feel good, why couldn’t I help?”
She sighed. How did you explain adult pride to a child? “Maybe he wants to prove he can do it himself. Remember when you were mad at Grandpa because he wouldn’t take the training wheels off your bike as soon as you wanted? It’s kind of like that.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Oh, I get it.”
“Good. We should both be understanding of Mr. Hollister and remember he doesn’t want people bugging him. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Her son stuck out his hand and they solemnly shook.
Danny returned to his drawing and Hannah was relieved that he seemed happier. Badger got up and followed her around as she took care of various chores. She’d gotten the retriever as a puppy when they moved from town to live on Great-Aunt Elkie’s property, and he’d grown into a magnificent dog with reddish-gold fur and a calm, protective nature.
She was fixing dinner when a knock sounded on the door. Badger let out a sharp yip, his ears perked forward; it was his someone-I-don’t-know bark.
“I’ll get it,” she called.
But Badger and Danny both beat her to the door and she heard her son give a friendly greeting to their visitor.
“Uh...yeah. I need to talk to your mother,” said a deep male voice.
Hannah wrinkled her nose. Jake Hollister.
“Is there a problem?” she asked as she turned the corner into the entry area.
“Not at all. I just wanted to ask if there are any restaurants that deliver out here from town.”
She thought about the sacks of groceries she’d seen in the trunk of Andy’s car. On top of which, she had put one of Luigi’s menus by the kitchen phone.
“Luigi’s delivers pizza on the weekends, but when things are slow he’s willing to send someone out on other days. If nothing else, he’ll usually come himself at closing time. I’ll get their number for you.” She brought another copy of the menu to the door and gave it to him. If Hollister had let her show him around Huckleberry Lodge, she would have pointed out both the phone book and the menu, along with other things he might need. Still, the guy was in pain, she could see it in his face.
Jake left with a low, almost grudging “Thanks.”
When they were alone, Danny looked up at her. “Maybe he’s just hungry, Mommy. It makes me grumpy, too.”
Hannah ruffled her son’s hair. “I know, but don’t forget we aren’t going to bother Mr. Hollister. We’re going to let him have peace and quiet so he can rest and get better.”
Danny crossed a finger over his heart. “I’ll be good.”
* * *
YOU’RE A DAMNED FOOL, Jake thought as he walked back to Huckleberry Lodge with the menu Hannah Nolan had given him. The doctor had warned him not to overexert himself, so naturally he’d insisted on driving alone to Mahalaton Lake from Seattle and had sent Andy packing.
And now he’d offended his landlady to the point she probably wanted to drown him in the lake.
He collapsed on the couch and glanced at the menu without much interest. Ironically, the doctors had urged him to eat nutritious, high-protein meals, but the crap he’d been served at the hospital was barely edible—even the limited diet he’d shared with the Inupiat had been better.
Or maybe it was just the environment. He’d grown up in the far corners of the world with his mother and they’d always eaten native when feasible; Josie believed you couldn’t learn about a culture if you didn’t eat their food and sleep in their beds.
With pain throbbing in every inch of his body, Jake let the menu drift to the ground.
Maybe he’d try ordering something later.
Much later.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_005b4fb1-041f-51a8-a103-f299736696db)
THE NEXT MORNING, Jake woke as the sun was rising and realized he had fallen asleep on the couch.
He was stiff, but some of the pain had subsided and a fine view greeted him through the windows overlooking the lake. The snowcapped peaks beyond were reflected on the water’s surface and he stared out for a while. Where was his impulse to capture the view in a unique way? Taking pictures had been his driving force since childhood, yet he had zero desire to start working.
God.
Maybe it was too pretty. That must be the problem. Why he’d ever agreed to doing a damned book on the northern Cascade Mountains was beyond him. The Cascades had been photographed to death; there was nothing new or unusual about them. He was going to be bored out of his skull.
But even more important...how was he going to put his trademark adventurous stamp on the book? The thought of people rolling their eyes and saying he’d lost his touch because of the accident was unacceptable. And he’d already faced that scenario once before.
Jake gritted his teeth.
He had never intended to be a traditional photojournalist. He’d gone to the Middle East to help out an acquaintance whose wife was having a difficult pregnancy, but after receiving the Pulitzer, at least a dozen interviewers had asked, “How will you top this?” Hell, “topping” pictures of people killing each other was the last thing he was interested in doing.
His stomach rumbled and he got up.
Andy had insisted they stop and buy groceries in Mahalaton Lake, so Jake made his standby in all climates and altitudes—a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. It wasn’t inspiring, but cooking was not one of his skills. He always kept peanut butter in his backpack while traveling, and it wasn’t bad on most local breads.
Munching on the sandwich, he wandered around the lodge. The spacious sunroom off the kitchen had tall windows on three sides, providing a view of the lake, the guesthouse and the wooded drive leading in from the road. A huge master bedroom suite was on the opposite side of the house. Other main floor rooms included a well-equipped utility room, two powder rooms, a library and formal dining area. Upstairs there were additional bedrooms and baths, with a family room in the center, and beneath the house was a half basement that provided storage.
It was far more space than Jake needed, but had the benefit of being outside a town, and the natural wood beams and high ceilings gave it a relaxed, faintly rustic feel. And there were artifacts scattered here and there from around the world, such as jade carvings, masks from various tribes and pottery. In a curious way it was soothing to be surrounded by some of the things he’d seen in his travels. Perhaps that was why Andy had urged him to lease the lodge.
Slowly he began sorting out his equipment and other supplies. The cameras he’d taken to Alaska had been destroyed in the crash, but Toby had personally brought Jake’s backup gear from the studio he kept in Costa Rica.
Toby...
A reluctant grin creased Jake’s mouth. Toby had bitched his usual stream of complaints, saying the magazine was willing to wait for its photos since they didn’t have any “goddamned choice,” and if Jake planned to go back to that frigging place, he was going alone.
This time it actually sounded as if he meant it.
Even so, Jake had expected he’d come along to Mahalaton Lake until Toby had sheepishly confessed that he and Vera were getting married in a few weeks and he was starting another job. Marriage was a career ender as far as Jake was concerned, at least for any career that involved extensive travel. Vera was a terrific woman, but she’d made it clear often enough that she wanted Toby at home.
Jake rubbed his face, rough with beard stubble, and stepped to the bank of windows. The day was lighter now, though the sky was still pink from the sunrise. The dog he’d seen the previous day was racing along the shore below, his fur flying in silky waves. It stopped, grabbed a stick in its mouth and ran back to its human companion—presumably Hannah Nolan.
He grimaced. An apology was in order; he’d behaved with the grace of an ill-tempered water buffalo. He let himself out a side door and walked down the grassy slope toward his landlady. The dog noticed him first, dropping his stick and hurrying to his mistress’s side.
“Did you have a good night, Mr. Hollister?” Hannah asked politely when he got within earshot.
“Good enough.”
He’d slept for eleven straight hours on the wide leather couch—much longer than he would have in the hospital with their constant health checks. Getting chilled and stiff from his position on the sofa was his own fault.
Jake gestured to the golden retriever who was regarding him suspiciously. “Who is this?”
Hannah put her hand on the animal’s head and stroked it. “His name is Badger. But don’t worry—I won’t let him come into Huckleberry Lodge.”
“He’s welcome. I like dogs. Where is your son?”
“Still in bed. Danny isn’t a morning person.”
“Neither am I,” Jake said absently.
Her lips pressed together in a flat line and he wondered what she wanted to say—it was amusing the way she was obviously trying to guard her tongue.
“Anyway,” he continued, “let me apologize for yesterday. I didn’t behave well.”
“Okay. You’ve apologized.”
“Uh...how far do you have to go from here to see any wildlife?” Jake asked, despite her flat response. It wouldn’t hurt to be on decent terms with his landlady.
Hannah’s face became less guarded. “Actually, you can sit on the deck and see a whole range of birds and mammals. I’ve spotted almost everything except bears and mountain lions.”
“That’s promising. I also noticed a couple of trails leading away from the lodge. Where do they go?”
The retriever yipped and she patted him again. “The one to the south leads into town, winding back and forth between the water and woods. The north trail is similar, but it’s rougher, with far more ups and downs. It extends around the lake to Mount Mahala.”
Jake looked at the snowcapped peak behind the water. “I’m guessing it would take a while to reach the mountain.”
A grin tugged at her mouth and he suddenly became aware of her as a woman. He still didn’t have any hint of Hannah’s figure, but if it matched her smile, he could be in trouble. Making a move on a woman with a child was a bad idea—in his experience, they were usually looking for commitment, and that wasn’t something he would ever be willing to offer.
“You’re right—it’s much farther than it appears. You can’t see it from here, but there’s a spur of the lake that goes way north beyond that point.” Hannah gestured to an outcropping of land covered by tall evergreens.
“What made you smile just now?” he asked curiously.
“A memory. When I was a kid I decided I could hike to the mountain all on my own. My parents didn’t argue, but Dad followed a few hundred feet behind me. We spent the night out there, not even a quarter of the way, with my feet hurting like mad. Not that I admitted it.”
And Jake would bet she was just as stubborn now. That kind of obstinacy wasn’t something people typically outgrew.
“I take it you grew up in the area,” he commented.
“Except for four years at college, I’ve always lived here.”
“Hell, I could never stay in one place for so long.” It wasn’t until Jake saw the look on Hannah’s face that he realized how rude he must have sounded...again. “Sorry. I’m a born wanderer.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then you must be dreading the next twelve months.”
“That’s an understatement. I just want to get past this damned accident and have my life back.”
Nobody understood how he felt except Josie, and she was back in the Andes—or maybe she’d gone somewhere else by now. The doctors had preached patience, Matt’s attitude was that it was only a year and Andy was just pleased that his client had finally agreed to do a book based in the United States.
But Jake didn’t want a conventional existence; he wanted what he’d had before the plane crash—international travel, seeing new places, his photography...and as few complications as possible.
“It isn’t because of your house,” Jake added hastily. “The lodge is great. Why aren’t you living there, instead of in the guesthouse?”
“It’s too expensive on a teacher’s salary. It makes more sense to rent it out and live in Silver Cottage.”
“But surely you get child support,” he said. Before leaving the day before, Andy had explained she was divorced. Jake had gotten the impression that his friend was attracted to Hannah. Not that it would go anywhere. Andy was an excellent agent, skilled at professional negotiations, but he was notoriously inept in his personal life.
Hannah’s green eyes narrowed. “My son’s father and his financial contributions are a private matter.”
