Jake's Biggest Risk

“You might earn more with a general equivalency diploma,” Hannah agreed diplomatically. It was hard to say what would make a difference in Mahalaton Lake, but statistically, graduates did better financially than dropouts. “I can check when the next exam will be.”

“I already got the schedule.” Barbi fidgeted with the bangles on her arms, looking embarrassed. “But right now there aren’t any night classes to help study for the damned thing—that is, the test. And I wondered...I know you do tutoring and stuff. I’d pay, of course,” she added hastily.

“I’d be happy to help you study,” Hannah assured her. “But as a friend. I wouldn’t want to be paid.”

“That isn’t right,” Barbi protested. “You got a kid to support.”

“What isn’t right is the school board failing to offer enough adult courses.” It was something that deeply irritated Hannah. “But I have access to the study materials and we can go from there.”

Barbi chewed her lower lip so hard that most of her bright red lipstick disappeared. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Hannah said. She’d been lucky to have parents who’d encouraged her to get an education and were there to help if she needed it. Offering the same support to a friend was the least she could do. “I’ll call when I have everything together. We’ll have fun.”

“Barbara,” Luigi hollered as he came out of the kitchen. “That pizza is ready for delivery.”

“Gotcha.”

Barbi left with the insulated pizza bag and Luigi came to the counter with a broad smile. “Ciao. I’ll take care of you, Hannah. Your usual pizza?”

“You bet.” Hannah thought about the lucrative lease she’d been offered and decided to splurge. “But add a garden salad and an order of garlic chicken wings.”

“Excellent. I heard Barbara speak to you about tutoring,” Luigi said as he took the money. “I’m glad she’s finally doing this.”

“She mentioned you’ve been urging her to get a GED.”

“I was sixteen when we came to America from Sicily. My mama told me to study hard, not just to get ahead, but because learning is how to stay young.” He thumped his chest. “My heart is not sixty-eight years old—it is strong like I’m still a boy.”

Hannah’s lips curved into a smile. “How is your mother, Luigi?”

“Ah, she goes to the church every day. She tells the priest when he makes a mistake in Mass and then works in the kitchen, making gnocchi to raise money for another stained glass window. She will not be happy until every window in the sanctuary is done. And she is reading War and Peace. So far, she likes Tolstoy better than Hemingway.”

“War and Peace is a good book. Say hello to her for me.”

She paid the bill and went into the arcade to watch Danny play as she waited for the food. He was an exceptionally bright kid, a year ahead of children his own age and curious about everything, including his deadbeat dad.

But whenever she started to feel bad for Danny or got upset with her poor judgment, she should remember Barbi Paulson. An absentee father was surely better than one who was drunk all the time. God knew what Barbi’s childhood had been like, and Hannah suspected Vic Paulson still came around now and then to make life difficult for her.

* * *

DRIVING HIS NEW Jeep Wrangler, Jake followed his agent’s car to Mahalaton Lake, Washington, grateful to be away from doctors and the hospital.

Andy Bedard, his agent, had offered to stay and help for a few days, but Jake would have none of it. That was why he’d insisted they bring two vehicles; if Andy had his own transportation, he’d have less excuse to become an unwanted houseguest.

It would have been worse if Jake had let his half brother drive him. Matt had been the one who’d arranged for Jake’s transfer to a hospital in Seattle and gotten top specialists to treat him...including Matt’s own father-in-law, Walter McGraw. Matt wasn’t a bad sort, and he’d chartered a flight and flown to Alaska as soon as news had come of the accident. Still, Matt had become depressingly domestic since giving up his carefree party days and getting married. At least he’d traveled extensively before; now he wore a suit every day and handed out money for a charitable organization.

His wife was nice, though, full of energy. And while Layne worked as a researcher for a weekly regional news magazine, she hadn’t asked him to do an interview.

Jake shifted his aching leg as they drove through the little town and out onto a road lined with tall evergreens, before turning right onto an even smaller road. It opened to a clearing where a two-story structure sat overlooking the lake.

Not bad.

It was a large mountain lodge, built solidly of natural beams, with a hint of the Arts and Crafts architectural style. In fact, it was reminiscent of some of the work done by Julia Morgan, an early twentieth-century California architect. Andy was right—if he had to be trapped in one place, Huckleberry Lodge was more palatable than most locations.

Small-town America made Jake shudder, and the cities were worse. Not that he’d spent much time in either, but even that was enough to know he preferred the solitude of locations like Nepal or the Australian outback. There were too many cars and people in most places.

Andy honked his horn and a young woman came out of the lodge, followed by a small boy. The dog lying on the doorstep got to its feet, tail wagging furiously. Jake frowned; he knew the landlady lived in a guesthouse over the garage, but neither Andy nor his business manager had mentioned her having a kid.

He opened the SUV door, stepping out in time to hear the woman call, “Hi, Andy.”

“Hey, Hannah. Sorry we’re early—we made better time on the road than I thought we would. Jake, this is Hannah Nolan,” Andrew said. “She owns Huckleberry Lodge and teaches at the elementary school in town.”

“Good afternoon,” Jake muttered.

He couldn’t tell much about Ms. Nolan from her appearance. She was dressed in faded jeans and an oversize man’s shirt. She had a long, rumpled braid of chestnut-colored hair and her face was pretty in a wholesome way. Apparently she’d been cleaning, because the faint odor of bleach permeated the air.

“You aren’t ready for me to move in?” he asked coolly, gesturing to the bucket she carried.

“I spoke to Hannah late last night and asked her to do extra sanitizing as a precaution,” Andy explained hastily. “It seemed a good idea because you just got out of the hospital.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. He was damned tired of hospitals and disinfectants and people trying to protect him without understanding the first thing about what he wanted. His body was damaged, not his brain. His mother had actually trekked out of the Andes to urge him to take it slow. Josie wasn’t a sentimental mom—he’d rarely seen her since becoming an adult—but she had her moments.

Hell, his father had even breezed through shortly after the accident. Since Sullivan Spencer “S. S.” Hollister was a true hedonist and had been in the middle of yet another romance at the time, he must have been really worried. Nevertheless, Jake was done with doctors and everything associated with them. His only concession would be physical therapy—anything to get him back to his peak.

“Sanitizing won’t be necessary in the future,” he growled. “I only asked for light cleaning. And you won’t need to come until Tuesday. I’ll be fine until then.”

“I always do extra polishing before someone arrives, Mr. Hollister, and you are earlier than expected,” the landlady said, the chill in her voice equaling his own. She put a hand on the youngster’s shoulder. “By the way, this is my son, Danny. Danny, this is our new tenant, Mr. Hollister.”

“Hi, mister.”

“Uh...yeah. Hi.” Jake didn’t know anything about kids and didn’t want to.

“Let me give you a tour of the lodge,” Hannah offered after an awkward silence.

“I’ll show myself around.” He turned and limped to the Wrangler to begin unloading his luggage and equipment. “I don’t need that thing—take it with you,” he snapped as Andy took out the cane recommended by the doctor.

“The doctor said—”

“I don’t care what he said.”

Over Andy’s protests, Jake carried one load after another into the lodge, despite the pain that was becoming intense. Danny Nolan wanted to help, but Jake sharply told him not to touch anything. The last thing he needed was to have his equipment damaged by a snot-nosed kid.

Hannah Nolan promptly sent her son to their home over the garage, her expression turning less friendly by the minute.

Andy began to look alarmed. Much to Jake’s displeasure, he pulled Hannah aside and started whispering in her ear. Jake ignored them both and carried two of his tripods up the lodge steps. He didn’t need his agent being a diplomat and making excuses.

Perhaps he had been rude, but the sooner everyone left him alone, the better.

* * *