of her high school boyfriend who’d pushed a climb too far—Collin had loved testing the limit in everything, and that time was his last. For months she’d woken up, unable to escape the horror of that day, hearing her own voice begging him not to go up that rock face alone, followed by her screams as he fell. Sometimes her heart still ached when she thought about how things might have turned out if Collin had lived.
He’d survived the fall, but only for a few hours, and all she could do was listen to him moaning and talking half-deliriously. Someone in the group had been carrying a satellite phone so they could call for help, but it had still taken too long for anyone to come. Back then they didn’t have a local team trained in mountain rescues, which was why supporting the rescue squad was so important to her. After all...Collin might still be alive if help had arrived sooner.
Hannah sighed. It was painfully obvious that she had a weakness for restless risk takers. Steven had been a lot like Collin, with the same devil-may-care attitude and hidden demons. And she found Jake Hollister dangerously attractive as well, a response she was determined to squelch. Not that it mattered; he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in the things that mattered to her. Insultingly clear. And she was reasonably sure she hadn’t revealed any sign of her attraction to him to justify a warning.
“I think we should try avocado ice cream,” Gwen said eagerly. “I saw a recipe in a women’s magazine while I was at the dentist’s office.”
Hannah resisted making a face. She liked trying new foods, but the people who lived in Mahalaton Lake were conservative in their tastes, and their summer visitors seemed to feel the same way. “I don’t know if anyone is ready for something that different. Remember the garlic ice cream last year?”
“Oh. Right.” Gwen looked crestfallen. She’d gone to California on vacation with her family and tasted garlic ice cream at the Gilroy Garlic Festival. Inspired, she’d made a gallon for the social, only to throw most of it out. It was one thing to sample garlic ice cream at a garlic festival, another to see it miles from the nearest garlic field. “Maybe I’ll bring something else. Are you making your usual?”
“Yup. Two gallons of wild huckleberry.” Every summer Hannah picked huckleberries in August and September, making jam with some and stowing the rest in the freezer to use throughout the next year, including for the June ice cream social.
“Everybody loves huckleberry.”
“Make strawberry ice cream. Everybody loves that, too,” Hannah suggested.
“But it’s so ordinary.” Gwen had moved to Mahalaton Lake five years ago when her husband, Randy, had been hired as their head of emergency services. Though a born New Yorker, she loved the town; she just got frustrated with the limited culinary tastes of most of the residents.
“Strawberry isn’t ordinary, it’s traditional,” Hannah said firmly, writing strawberry next to Gwen’s name on the ice cream sign-up sheet.
“I don’t know. What if I try anise and—”
“How about pineapple sorbet?” Hannah suggested hastily.
“That sounds good,” Gwen said, brightening.
“Besides, I just remembered that Luigi is donating a gallon of his homemade strawberry gelato.”
“Okay. I can’t compete with his gelato anyway.”
Hannah crossed out strawberry under Gwen’s name and wrote in pineapple sorbet.
She got up and refilled their coffee cups. They were meeting at her place, partly because there wasn’t a single unoccupied surface in Gwen’s home. Her husband always said that his wife had many fine qualities, but housekeeping wasn’t one of them. The planning committee would meet again the next morning, so Hannah and Gwen were putting the final proposal together to save time.
“Thanks.” Gwen poured cream in her coffee.
Hannah glanced out the window and saw Danny talking to Jake Hollister. Her mouth tightened. Before Jake had even arrived in Mahalaton Lake, Danny had heard a lot about the adventuring photographer—not from her, but from his friends and even her own parents. She didn’t want her son developing hero worship for someone with his itchy feet.
“Is that the guy?” Gwen asked, leaning forward and peering out, as well.
They were sitting in the living room of the guesthouse, and the picture windows on both outside walls gave a sweeping view of Huckleberry Lodge and the lake beyond. Danny was chattering away with his usual exuberance, arms flying as he gestured wildly, while Jake leaned on the stair railing, holding a paper bag in his hand and occasionally nodding. Unless you were close enough to see the lines of pain carved around his eyes, you’d never guess he’d recently been in the hospital.
“Yup, Jake Hollister in the flesh.”
“Mmm. Nice flesh, too. I wouldn’t throw him out of bed for getting crumbs on the sheets.”
“Does Randy do that?”
Gwen laughed. “Not since I nagged him out of the habit. Honestly, why do men feel the need to eat popcorn in bed?”
“Got me.” Hannah hadn’t been married long enough to have come to many conclusions about men, other than she didn’t want to be married to the wrong one again. Her son was the only positive thing to come out of her marriage.
“Well, you’re lucky to have such a cute guy living next door.” All at once Gwen got a speculative expression on her face. “I wonder if he’d be interested in working on one of the fund-raisers for the rescue squad. He’s so famous, it might attract more people than usual.”
Hannah cringed, thinking how Jake might react to the idea. “He’s got a reputation for being a loner, so I doubt he’s a small-town, community-service-project sort of guy.”
“Have you gotten to know him yet?”
She hesitated. “Not exactly. We’ve only spoken a few times. I’ll be cleaning house over there twice a week.”
“I hope he pays well. Not to be a hypocrite considering my own limitations as a housekeeper, but my sister claims some artists can be slobs.”
Hannah mentally agreed, recalling the scattered pizza boxes and red jam dripping from Great-Aunt Elkie’s sandstone countertop. Her second cleaning session was that afternoon, and she dreaded thinking about what else he’d done to the place.
“Uh, the pay is okay.”
But the company isn’t, she added mutely. Luckily, she and Danny were probably the only ones in Mahalaton Lake who’d had to face his questionable manners. Barbi had obviously delivered pizza several times, but Jake’s shiny new SUV hadn’t moved since the day he’d arrived, so he hadn’t gone into town and offended anyone there.
“I’ve been thinking,” Gwen said. “If Mr. Hollister did agree to be involved, we could have a photo booth at the Christmas in August festival, or at one of the other fund-raisers. I bet people would pay a lot to have their portrait done by a famous photographer. It would be easy to do with computers and printers being so portable.”
Hannah nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. “He’s not that kind of photographer, Gwen. His time in the Middle East was an anomaly.
