Jake's Biggest Risk

Jake limped through the swinging door and saw the therapist pointing to the cinnamon toast with an accusing finger. “Breakfast.”

“It’s eleven o’clock. You haven’t eaten yet?”

“What’s the big deal?”

“Nutrition. The bread is fine—that particular brand is made from whole grain without a bunch of crap added to it. But sugar and butter won’t help your body heal and rebuild muscle. You need protein and fruits and vegetables, as well as whole grains.”

“Whatever.” Jake grabbed the bread bag and the plate of toast and shoved them into the refrigerator. Okay, he’d known cinnamon toast wasn’t the best meal in the world, but he could order a vegetarian pizza later in the day to make up for it. “Let’s get busy.”

Owen pulled something from his bag and handed it to him. “Eat this first. It’s a protein bar.”

Two hours later Jake was soaked with sweat and feeling as if he’d gone mountain climbing. He was also grateful for the protein bar, however hideous it had tasted. Not that the exercises had been as strenuous as hiking across an ice field loaded down with photographic equipment, but they were proof that he had a long way to go in his recovery.

“Excellent,” Owen said, smiling for the first time. “Some of my patients find it difficult doing what I ask, but the real proof will be whether you do the exercises between our sessions.”

“I’ll do them.” Jake wiped his face, perspiring as much from pain as from the workout. But he didn’t want to take a pill; the damned painkillers messed with his head. The hot tub, on the other hand...

While he wasn’t wild about many parts of the industrial world, the hot tub was a guilty pleasure. Sliding into the warm, swirling water when his body ached was one of the things he actually enjoyed here at Huckleberry Lodge. Sheltered from wind by Plexiglas on the railings, the private deck off the master bedroom still had a view of the lake, and at night, with the lights off, he could almost imagine he was in a natural hot spring, somewhere far away.

Through the window he saw Hannah come down her steps and cross to the lodge with Danny alongside. She was carrying a large bag, probably containing the sheets and towels she’d taken on Tuesday. Jake locked gazes with her as they came up the back steps to the sunroom.

“Come in,” he called.

Hannah opened the door and smiled when she saw Owen Kershaw. “Hi, Owen, remember me?”

The therapist grinned. “Hannah Nolan. Of course I remember. Your great-aunt was one of my favorite patients. What are you doing here?”

“This was Great-Aunt Elkie’s house. She passed away after I graduated from college and left Huckleberry Lodge to me. I’ve leased it to Jake. Owen, this is my son, Danny.”

“Hi, Danny.” Owen shook hands with the youngster. “I have something for you,” he said, and pulled something out of his athletic bag that looked like a tropical clown fish.

“That’s just like Nemo,” Danny declared.

“It’s made from a special kind of sponge rubber. My patients squeeze them to build strength in their hands and arms,” Owen explained, and Danny promptly began squeezing the toy with all his might.

“Does everybody know each other in Mahalaton Lake and Lower Mahalaton?” Jake asked.

Hannah shrugged. “No, but Owen works at the only rehab center in fifty miles—anybody who’s ever needed physical therapy has gone there. My great-aunt broke her hip when I was sixteen and stayed at the center for several weeks, then we drove down for her physical therapy sessions. That was when she put in the hot tub.”

“Hot tub?” Owen looked concerned. “I have questions about the chemicals they require, so just be sure to shower after using it.”

Jake was glad the therapist hadn’t tried to stop him. No way would he give up the hot tub. It might feel strange to enjoy something so far out of his chosen lifestyle, but it was better than the alternative.

“It doesn’t use chemicals—it has one of those reverse osmosis cleaning systems. And it’s serviced regularly,” Hannah assured. “I see you’re wearing a wedding ring. Do you have kids?”

The therapist’s face lit up. “We’ve got two boys who run us ragged. They’re four and five. And Cheryl is pregnant again. If you’re interested, I’ll bring pictures the next time I’m here.”

“I’d love to see them.”

Owen looked at his watch and picked up his bag and the folding table. “I’m late. It was a pleasure meeting you, Danny. Take care, Hannah.”

“You, too.”

“I’ll be back at eleven on Tuesday,” Owen said to Jake.

“Nemo?” Jake asked Hannah when the other man was gone.

“He’s a character in an animated movie, about a little clown fish and its father. One of Danny’s favorites.”

“Nemo gets kidnapped and his dad goes looking for him through the whole ocean,” Danny said. “Mommy, do you think my daddy is looking for me? Maybe he got lost and doesn’t remember where we live.”

Hannah’s face froze. “Your father isn’t... That is, he knows we’re here in Mahalaton Lake. He just travels a lot. Now we need to start cleaning the house.”

Danny stuck the toy in his pocket. “I’ll get the trash. That’s my job.”

When he was gone, Hannah put her chin up with an air of defiance as she turned to Jake. “You said it was all right to bring him, and he likes to feel he’s helping me.”

Exhausted, Jake sank down on a chair. “It’s fine. Does Danny ask about his father much?”

“He’s starting to more and more. But how do you explain to a seven-year-old boy that his dad is a womanizing ba...” She stopped and visibly drew a breath. “Never mind.”

“Sure. Oh, did Danny give you the money for the loaf of bread?”

A flicker of emotion crossed her face, though he couldn’t guess the reason. “Yes.”

“I appreciate him bringing it over. I started thinking about it afterward and realized I should have asked first. He also brought me some chicken. Thank you.”

“Thank Danny. It was entirely his idea. Now, please excuse me, I have work to do.”

Jake decided this wasn’t the right time to ask about the grocery shopping. He slumped deeper in his chair and closed his eyes, his body throbbing with the effort he’d put into the therapy. But he refused to lie down. Given their testy relationship, he didn’t want to appear weak in front of Hannah. Or maybe it was the age-old vanity of men in most societies, hating to appear less than virile in front of a woman. Especially such a beautiful woman.

There were noises around the house now. Domestic noises. Very different from what he’d hear in the highland villages of Nepal above Kathmandu, or deep in the Amazon. Yet it seemed as if there was a common rhythm to housework. Sweeping. Washing. Tidying. Even Danny’s voice, asking his mother what else he could do, wasn’t unlike the chatter of children in the dozens of cultures Jake had experienced from the day he was born.

It was better than the silence of the past few days, he thought, and far better than the echoes of the plane crash that still roared in his ears at the oddest moments.

* * *

THE TWO PIZZA boxes Jake had said to leave on Tuesday were on the kitchen floor, and Hannah stuffed them in a bag. Danny cheerfully took the bag out to the garbage cans.

Sugar was spilled across the counter and onto the floor as well, and she swept it up, thinking of what Gwen had said about some artists being slobs.

Maybe, maybe not.

However, it appeared that if something fell on the floor, Jake simply left it there, and she found it hard to believe that was a common custom in other parts of the world. Of course, it could be because of his injuries—it might be hard to bend over and pick something up. But when she went into the bathroom and saw the mess on the countertops and sinks, Hannah decided to go with slob.

She scrubbed everything, keeping Andy Bedard’s comments in mind about the need to keep everything sanitized. Andy was nice, a regular mother hen. And unlike some of the skiers who’d rented the lodge in the past, he and his guests always left things in good order.

After two hours, Hannah tied the dirty linens into a bundle, belatedly realizing she hadn’t seen Danny in a while. She found him sitting cross-legged on the couch in the sunroom, listening to her tenant recount a story about trekking into the Australian outback. Danny’s eyes were round with excitement as Jake described hanging over the water from a tree branch, taking photos of prowling crocodiles who’d like nothing better than to have him for lunch.