Starting over is serious business

With her professional skiing career cut short by an accident, Hannah James is putting all her energy into transforming Snowy Sky Resort into something special. There’s only one obstacle. Famous pro-snowboarder-turned-consultant Tate Addison has his own ideas about taking the Rankins, Alaska, lodge to the next level. But Hannah won’t compromise her dreams. She gets that Tate is trying to create a stable home for his orphaned six-year-old nephew—a boy Hannah already adores. And if she isn’t careful, she could also fall for the boy’s too-attractive uncle. Is she risking heartbreak? Or do she and Tate really want the same things out of life?

“Hannah, maybe you should accept that I’m here to stay?”

She frowned. “I will accept that, Tate, around the same time I accept the bad recommendations you’ve made for Snowy Sky.”

“Hannah—”

Interrupting with her hands, palms up in a conciliatory gesture, she said, “Okay, shoot, I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to get into this again. I want to apologize for the snowball. I don’t lose my temper very often and I—”

“Good, because I don’t want to fight with you, either.”

Something hitched in her chest because his voice was low and smooth and his eyes were pinned on hers.

“Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Hannah’s face felt hot and her pulse began to pound because the opposite of fighting was...

Dear Reader,

I was fortunate to be born into a family of optimists. I’m talking about the kind of people who, if a car breaks down in the middle of nowhere on a dark night with no cell phone service, will say something like, “I only had to walk five miles.” Or “At least it wasn’t raining.”

Hannah James comes from this kind of family, too. She is just this type of person, dealing with every devastating blow life hands her with a steadfast and cheerful grace because, in keeping with her eternal optimism, she truly believes that things will improve. But even the most positive among us have our breaking point. For Hannah that point is rapidly approaching. The dream she’s worked so hard to achieve is in danger of being snatched from her grasp. And to complicate matters, she’s falling for the would-be dream-snatcher, Tate Addison.

Tate wants to make a home in Rankins, Alaska, for the nephew he’s gained custody of. To Tate, a home requires a family. But how can someone who’s never had a family make a home? Especially with such a broken and dysfunctional background as his? And even if he could, how could he ever expect to make a family like Hannah’s?

Thanks so much for spending some time with me in Rankins. Check out my website, carolrossauthor.com, for social media links, the latest book news and other titles in the Seasons of Alaska series.

All my best,

Carol

A Family Like Hannah’s
Carol Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROL ROSS lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She is a graduate of Washington State University. When not writing, or thinking about writing, she enjoys reading, running, hiking, skiing, traveling and making plans for the next adventure to subject her sometimes reluctant but always fun-loving family to.

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For Aaramie, my niece, friend, fellow adventurer, food enthusiast, joke sharer, amusement parker and travel buddy. You are my “Hannah” inspiration.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

TATE ADDISON STARED down at the single piece of luggage on the dingy, threadbare carpet and felt the knot of tension cinch even tighter in his chest. How could that tiny suitcase hold everything Lucas owned in the entire world?

Tate frowned at the woman standing nearby, the woman who had given birth to him. He refused to call her mom. She’d never earned the title.

“Penny, where are the rest of Lucas’s things?”

She blinked as if surprised by the question. “Well, Tate, this is it. This is all of it. You’d be surprised how much you can pack in one of these soft-sided suitcases.”

“This isn’t even the suitcase I sent him, and I’ve sent him enough to fill twenty suitcases. Where is his skateboard, his tablet, the movies and games, the game system...? His baseball glove?”

Penny swiped a casual hand through the air. “You know how kids are. They break things, grow out of things, lose things...”

It dawned on him then. A hot flash of anger bolted through him. “You sold his stuff?”

“Just what was I supposed to do? He couldn’t eat that baseball glove. Kids are expensive, not that you’d know anything about that while you’ve been living the high life and I’ve been stuck here taking care of him. Do you have any idea how hard that has been on me?”

Now she sounded like the selfish, defensive, passive-aggressive, alcohol-and drug-dependent mother he knew and despised, yet continued to care about. Out of some twisted sense of obligation or responsibility or...something.

“What did you spend the money on I sent you every month to take care of you both? Why did you fight me for custody?”

“He’s my grandson.”

Tate narrowed his eyes menacingly, waiting for her to answer the first question even though he knew she wouldn’t. They both knew very well what she’d spent it on.

“You mean your meal ticket?”

“Lexie left him with me, remember?”

Shards of grief and guilt and anger took turns jabbing at him. But not because of anything Penny said, but because he hadn’t been able to save Lexie from their mother’s poison. He had survived, and even though he hadn’t been able to save his little sister, he was determined to save her son. His nephew.

His jaw flexed so tightly he could barely speak. “Don’t talk to me about Lexie.”

Penny crossed her bony arms over her chest, her face twisted into an ugly scowl. “I know you blame me, Tate. Just like you’ve always blamed me for every bad thing in your life and Lexie’s. But it’s not my fault she died, you know? I didn’t pour those drugs down her throat. She never did know when enough was enough. Nobody’s perfect, not even you. You don’t know how hard it is, but you’ll see and then you’ll be begging me to take that kid back—”

He had learned long ago not to engage with his mother. You can’t reason with irrational and he couldn’t fix her addictions, although he kept trying.

He interrupted sharply, “Where is he?”

She pinched her lips together as she lifted a finger and pointed down the hall.

He took a few steps before turning to face her again. “Viktor is waiting right outside the door to take you to the rehab center. After you get out this time you’ll have two months of expenses paid. That’s it. Do you understand? I can’t—I won’t—enable you anymore. I don’t want to see you, hear from you, or even hear about you ever again.”

She pitched her voice high and dramatic as she tried to squeeze out some tears, “But you’re my son and you can’t keep Lucas from me. He’s my only grandchild—”

“It’s official now. I have legal custody. Lucas is my responsibility. He is no longer your free ride. Do you understand? When you get out, do not call or contact us in any way.”

“Where are you going?” she cried.

Tate ignored her and went to find his nephew. There were only two doors positioned along the dim hallway of the sparsely furnished apartment. The first contained a small filthy bathroom so he continued on. He found Lucas in the next room sitting on a dirty, rumpled sleeping bag atop a bare mattress lying on the floor. The room smelled faintly of mold and urine. Shockingly few items were scattered around—a brown paper bag, a clothes hanger and a bright orange plastic bucket with a large crack in the side.

Lucas held a book clutched to his chest. He looked up when Tate walked in and he hoped he wasn’t imagining the spark that lit amidst the weariness in the child’s arresting blue eyes. A mix of love and relief and anger swirled within him as he studied the pale, forlorn face of his nephew, the only thing left of his sister, Lexie.

He knelt in front of the tiny boy with coal-black hair that so closely matched his own and wondered if, at six years of age, he should be so small.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, Uncle Tate.”

“You ready to hit the road?”

He nodded. “Do I need my sleeping bag? I can’t zip it up anymore because the zipper’s broken.”

“Nope, you’ll be sleeping in a real bed with sheets from now on.”

Lucas’s bland expression told Tate he’d heard similar promises before. Empty promises, broken promises, nights without a warm bed and days without food; memories he recalled all too well from his own childhood with Penny, before Viktor had taken him away.

“Uncle Tate, you won’t leave me in the dark, will you?”

The fear in his voice seemed to pierce Tate’s very soul. “No, Lucas, I won’t.”

Placing a hand on each of the boy’s thin shoulders, he caught his gaze. “Lucas, I know other people have told you things before that weren’t true. Made promises they didn’t keep. But I’ve never done that, have I? Made you a promise I didn’t keep?”

He shook his head and whispered, “No.”

“Well, I’m making you another one right now. I will never leave you. From here on out—it’s me and you and Viktor, okay? We’re a family. No matter what.” Tate silently vowed to do whatever was necessary to make a family for Lucas, even though he wasn’t sure what one was exactly.

Lucas nodded and climbed to his feet and Tate thought that a child of six-years shouldn’t look so tired and...broken. Tate reached for him and Lucas threw his hands around his neck and squeezed. The rush of love he felt was so intense he almost couldn’t contain his sob.

* * *

HANNAH JAMES STEERED her SUV up her friend Edith Milner’s long driveway. As she neared the massive architectural masterpiece of a home, she immediately spotted the tire tracks in the fresh dusting of snow. She was happy to see the renters had finally arrived.

She parked her car, climbed out and headed around the side of the house along the covered sidewalk. Edith had informed the management company that Hannah would be caring for the atrium in her year-long absence, absolving the renters of having to worry about the exotic plants or the koi that lived in the atrium’s indoor pond.

Unlocking the door to the breezeway, she planned to slip in unnoticed and check on the plants and feed the koi without bothering anyone. The hallway to the right connected the atrium to the house. She turned left and pushed the button to open the pneumatic door. A blast of warm, humid air greeted her. She’d been coming here for nearly two years now, but she still couldn’t get over the magic that Edith had managed to create in this remote Alaskan setting.

Edith and her husband had built their five-thousand square foot home nearly two decades ago, but Edith had only added the atrium after her husband of forty-two years had passed away.

Hannah took a moment to admire the atrium’s inviting niches. The bluish-green light glowing through the fat panes of tinted glass. The mosaic tile floor sparkled in muted pastel colors, a perfect setting for the wrought iron garden furniture. The space was a work of art inside and out, and it soothed her soul to spend time there.

She stopped in front of a recessed control panel, checking to make sure the temperature and humidity readings were correct.

The storage room contained an electronic lock with a keypad. She tapped in the combination and went inside. After scooping out pellets for the koi she crossed to the far side of the room, smiling as she approached the large pond taking up roughly half the space. The pond’s surface was smooth and peaceful, broken only by the gurgle from the fountain in the center. But as she walked closer, the swirl and soft splash of water let her know the koi were aware of her presence.

Enjoying the flashes of orange, white, silver, black and red gliding through the water, she began tossing in the pellets one handful at a time. She called the fish by name, commenting on the beauty of their markings or how gracefully they could swim.

As she silently practiced the spiel she planned to pitch later that day at her meeting, she looked up to notice a gorgeous tropical flower blooming. One she’d never seen before. That’s when movement from the other side of the pond gave her a start. A flash of black hair followed by a pair of dark eyes peeking out from behind a ficus tree told her a child was hiding there. Relaxing, she realized Edith’s renters must have a child.

“Hello, there,” she called out.

No answer.

“Would you like to come over here and meet these guys?”

She heard a rustling sound before a small black-haired child sprinted toward the house. The door made a swooshing sound as it opened and then closed again. Poor kid, she thought, must be shy.

She looked at the time on her phone. Too bad she couldn’t stick around and introduce herself. She needed to get to work. As project manager of Snowy Sky Resort, it would probably be bad form for her to be late for her first meeting with the ski-area consultant the board of directors had hired.

* * *

TATE STUDIED THE figures in front of him, satisfied with the projections for the profits from the latest snowboard bindings he’d designed and patented. The Zee Tap had been on the market for only two years, but it was already fast approaching status as the year’s top-selling binding in the world. Even though Tate knew he was doing well, something compelled him to keep continual tabs on his finances. He knew that “something” was undoubtedly his own poverty-ridden childhood.

Since retiring from his professional snowboarding career, he was aware that he only had a limited amount of time to capitalize on his past success. That’s why he’d diversified and taken on consulting jobs like this one at Snowy Sky Resort. Although accepting this particular job happened to be motivated by much more than business.

“Uncle Tate!” Lucas ran up to him nearly out of breath, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Slow down, buddy. What’s the matter?”

“There’s a fairy woman in the fish room.”

“A fairy...what?”

“A fairy woman. She’s in the fish room.”

Tate smiled. Lucas had taken to calling the atrium the fish room. He loved to hang out in there. At first Tate had been concerned because of the water feature, but after a few days he felt certain that Lucas wasn’t going to get in the pond with the fish and if he did somehow fall in, Tate was confident he could climb out.

Even so, he had been thrilled to learn Rankins had a community center with a pool. He’d already enrolled Lucas in swim lessons. He wondered if it was normal to worry and fret about most everything where a child was concerned.

“Come and look at her.”

Tate stood and moved from behind the desk in the spacious room the owner of the house had graciously cleared for his use as an office. She’d left the antique books in the floor-to-ceiling shelves that took up one entire wall and he was glad. It lent the room a cozy feel.

“Okay, but what makes her a fairy exactly? Does she have wings?” Tate assumed Lucas was referring to the woman caring for the atrium in the homeowner’s absence. He’d been relieved when he had learned that he wouldn’t have to look after it. There were plants in there he was certain his brown thumb could wilt without ever touching, not to mention the goldfish.

Lucas explained patiently as he led the way. “No, Uncle Tate, fairies don’t let humans see their wings. Only other fairies can see their wings.”

“I see. So...is she wearing a certain dress or playing the flute or something? Is that how you know she’s a fairy?”

“She talks to the fish.”

“Fairies talk to fish? Do they talk back?”

Lucas had picked up his pace and kept glancing back as if he wasn’t moving quite fast enough. Tate walked faster.

“No, this fairy talks to the fish. I’m not sure if they talk back because I don’t speak fish.”

Tate felt a mixture of affection and amused confusion.

But when they entered the atrium they found it empty of both humans and fairies.

“Oh, no...” Lucas’s face fell as his eyes darted around the warm, bright space. His voice was filled with such abject disappointment it tugged at Tate’s heartstrings. “She’s gone.”

CHAPTER TWO

HANNAH SLIPPED ON her snow boots and wrapped the soft, teal-colored mohair scarf around her neck. She arranged the matching hat on her head and silently thanked her cousin Janie who had knitted the set.

Lift number two had become fully operational today and she was going to check it out before her meeting. She wanted everything to be perfect for Tate Addison. As not only project manager of Snowy Sky but founder and shareholder as well, she was used to doing things her way. She relished the freedom she’d had thus far in seeing her vision becoming a reality.

Hannah was fine with getting a “second opinion,” and yet, having the resort—her hard work, her dream, her baby, her second chance at achieving success—evaluated in this manner? Well, it was bound to be a little nerve-racking for anyone.

Hoisting a hip onto one of the many railings gracing the lodge’s massive front steps, she slid down to the frozen ground and then headed for her snow machine. She couldn’t help the welling of pride as she took in the tall T-shaped metal poles marching up the hillside. Snowy Sky wouldn’t be officially opening until next year, but enough had been accomplished that it was already looking like a real ski resort.

Tate Addison had recently retired from the sport of snowboarding with one of the longest and most successful careers of all time, and although he was several years older than her, she had seen him compete when she’d been on the professional skiing circuit.

She squelched a ping of jealousy; thinking of her own career cut short so cruelly still filled her with a painful longing, a yearning for the medals and accolades she’d been so close to achieving.

Jeez, Hannah, she told herself, bitter much? Mourning the past was most definitely not a part of the “postaccident healing plan” she and her sports therapist, Dr. Voss, had developed and that she had executed over the past few years.

Hers and Tate’s different backgrounds and experiences shouldn’t matter, though. When he looked at the big picture, as he’d been hired to do, everything would be fine. All she really needed to do was collect his stamp of approval. She would answer every one of his questions thoroughly and eloquently. Then, at the board meeting next week, he would inform them of what a great job she was doing, collect his fee and be gone.

Simple.

Hannah headed toward lift two and found Freddie there waiting for her in the control booth as she’d asked. Freddie was a hometown boy, an avid skier and one of the first employees she had hired.

“Freddie, I’m going to ride around one time to check things out and then on the second go-around I’ll radio you when to stop the lift, okay?”

“Awesome. Have fun. Um, I hate to bring this up right now because I know you’ve got this important meeting and all. But Park was in the rental shop this morning snooping around and telling me how to arrange everything. What’s up with that?”

She felt a surge of annoyance. Park Lowell was a shareholder, board member, snowboarder and all-around pain in Hannah’s neck. He also coveted her job and everyone knew it.

“Trying to impress Tate Addison, no doubt. I’ll talk to him.” And remind him who the project manager is, she added silently.

“I didn’t listen to him anyway. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Definitely. I’m always interested in what Park is up to, especially where Snowy Sky is concerned.”

Freddie nodded. “Amen to that.”

* * *

TATE ARRIVED NEARLY two hours early for his meeting, wanting to inspect the resort’s progress thus far without any biased commentary from the project manager. He’d been using a snow machine Park Lowell had set him up with to scout things out when he noticed that one of the chairlifts was operating. He watched the lift smoothly glide along for a few minutes, admiring the triple-fixed grip chair units before he realized someone was riding on one of them.

Hmm, good timing, workers must be performing some maintenance or running a test. Nice to see construction appeared to be right on schedule or perhaps even a bit ahead of projections, an incredible feat for a project of this magnitude.

Suddenly the lift slowed and then halted completely. Movement caught his eye as the rider then slipped from the chair and sailed downward through the air. He felt his stomach fall right along with the rider, followed quickly by a genuine burst of fear when the person hit the ground and disappeared beneath the deep snow, a puff of powder drifting up to form a white cloud.

Tate hurriedly throttled up the snow machine and sped in that direction. A fall like that could be disastrous—deadly even. His heart hammered loudly in his head as possibilities surfaced, each one more gruesome than the last. He forced himself to focus on what he needed to do. Stopping the machine as he neared the location, he hopped off and moved quickly toward the spot. When he got close he dropped to the ground and crawled toward the indentation.

Calmly, but loudly he called out, “Hey, buddy, are you okay? Can you hear me? Say something if you can hear me?”

* * *

HANNAH’S BLISSFUL MOMENT was abruptly interrupted by a deep voice shouting at her. Was she okay? Of course she was okay. She had assumed the sound of the snow machine was Freddie coming to fetch her even though she’d asked him to wait for her call. But this wasn’t Freddie’s voice.

She opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with a handsome and concerned-looking Tate Addison. She groaned. What terrible timing.

“Where does it hurt?”

Why was he shouting? “Nothing hurts,” she said flatly. He was going to think she was crazy. This was also a tad embarrassing. How could she explain?

She tried to distract him instead. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Miss, are you okay?” Voice even louder now as he enunciated very slowly, “Did you hit your head?”

Sitting up, she dusted snow from the front of her coat. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I saw you fall.” He pointed up.

“I didn’t fall. I jumped.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s fun?” Hannah posed the question-answer with a sheepish grin.

It was true that she didn’t want the guy anywhere near her resort, but it was also true, she admitted, that it was cute how his mouth dipped down at the corners along with his brows.

She knew he was nice looking, but she hadn’t expected him to be so...

Stern, she finished the thought as he went on in a very serious tenor, “It’s fun to fall twenty feet into a pile of snow? That’s dangerous. Are you aware of what could happen if you got stuck or how about landing on something—a rock or a branch? Did you think of that? And what if you landed wrong and broke your neck, or worse?”

Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of his anxious tone. She supposed witnessing the “fall” had made him nervous, but she certainly wouldn’t have done it if she’d known he was here. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be here for at least another hour or two, and why was he nosing around on his own?

In an attempt to reassure him, she said, “Twenty feet is a bit of an overstatement. And I wouldn’t do it any old time. I’m aware of the conditions. There are no rocks here, there’s a deep enough base, plenty of fresh powder. And you fall backwards—like this, so that when you land...” Leaning her body back to demonstrate, she caught a glimpse of his disapproving expression. Suddenly she felt like a teenager defending herself to a stodgy grown-up.

He shook his head, a look of incredulity stamped on his face. “I don’t understand why you would knowingly take such a risk. I mean, what are you...?”

She kind of wanted to tell him to lighten up, but knew it would behoove her to make a good impression on him. The more he liked her and Snowy Sky, the less change he would recommend and the sooner she could get back to normal.

Untying her hood, she pushed it back from her face, turned on a bright smile and stuck out a snow-covered glove. “Mr. Addison, it’s nice to meet you—even in this rather, um, unconventional manner. But how’s this for some great snow?”

What looked like a mix of skepticism and disbelief furrowed his brow. “What? Who...are you?”

“I’m Hannah James, project manager here at Snowy Sky.”

* * *

TATE STARED INTO the pretty golden-brown eyes of the woman in front of him and felt a stir of something—no, a mix of so many things.

She was project manager? He knew the project manager was a woman named Hannah James and that she was a former professional skier. But he didn’t know her. He’d thought the name sounded vaguely familiar, but he’d been expecting someone older. And much less...attractive.

She tucked a thick brown braid into the back of her jacket. Smooth, honey-toned skin made it impossible to tell her age.

He found himself blurting, “How old are you?” And immediately wished he could take the question back.

“Excuse me?”

Why had he asked that? Back in his early snowboarding days he’d hated when people had asked him that very question, which they’d done a lot because he had been young and talented and often competing against guys much older and twice or three times his size. He had never thought his age was relevant and now here he was asking the question of someone else.

“Sorry. So, uh, you’re the project manager? Hannah James?”

“Yes. I am. Hannah James.”

He noticed the tightness in her jaw and thought, uh-oh. He hadn’t meant to offend her, and he knew very well this process would go a lot smoother if he could make friends with her, convince her the resort would benefit from his recommendations.

Attempting to reduce the tense moment with honesty and a touch of remorse, he winced. “Oh, man... Ms. James, I’m so sorry. I may not have had the most traditional upbringing, but I do know better than to ask a woman her age.”

He added his own sheepish grin. “You, however, look very young and I was surprised. I am taken aback and embarrassed by my behavior. Can we start over?”

* * *

SURELY HE WASN’T implying she was too young for this job? And why in the world would he think that, Hannah? After he just witnessed you jumping off the chairlift like some kind of reckless teenager?

But she couldn’t help it.

Since the accident she found herself constantly looking for ways to remind herself she was alive, that there were still thrills to be had even if she could no longer race. Dr. Voss said it was harmless, therapeutic even, as long as her forays didn’t get too dangerous. Thus, she was only into “safe” danger. Although that might be difficult to convince Tate Addison of given the current circumstances.

Flashing her best carefree grin, she said, “Of course, Mr. Addison, you’re forgiven. Call me Hannah. And please, forgive me, too. This probably looks really strange, but we all need a little fun sometimes, right? And I can assure you I am both old enough for this job and qualified for the position.”

He looked relieved to be let off the hook.

“Great. Okay, I’m Tate.” He placed a hand on his chest. “And clearly you are both of those things.”

She brushed off his words with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get your tour started, shall we?”

She pulled off her gloves and removed her hat from inside of her jacket where she’d stashed it before she jumped from the lift. She arranged the hat on her head, tucking some stray strands beneath its softness. Finally she replaced her gloves and glanced up in time to catch his assessing stare; she didn’t even want to imagine what he was thinking.

She needed to put this little setback behind her and do some damage control.

“After you.” She gestured toward the groomed portion of the hill.

They hiked back to where he had left his snow machine. There was plenty of room for two, so when he suggested she climb on, she did. He took off slowly and putted along until she directed him to stop a few hundred feet up the hill where she began to give him the status report she’d practiced.

“We’re almost directly in the middle of the ski terrain right here...”

Hannah went on to explain how the runs taking off from each of the four lifts would be arranged to accommodate every type of alpine skier—beginner, intermediate and advanced.

“Chair four—the last chair—will be a nice mix of beginner and intermediate runs along the front here, and has a dual purpose of allowing Nordic skiers access to the eastern terrain. It’s full of trails where they can cross-country ski for miles. We have plans for a small lodge in that area eventually. Alaska has a substantial amount of cross-country skiers and I believe we should really capitalize on this...”

Feeling confident and cruising through her practiced spiel, she believed their awkward meeting was well behind them when he interrupted.

“What about snowboarding?”

“What about it?”

“Does the resort offer anything for snowboarders?”

She thought for a second. The man had been a professional snowboarder for many years; of course snowboarding would be the first thing on his mind.

“Yes, of course. They will be allowed to transport their boards up on the lifts for an extra fifty dollars a day. And we’re only charging them ten percent more on rentals, food and lodging.”

His dark brows dipped down, midnight-blue eyes full of consternation. The man really was serious. Much more so than she had expected. And definitely more than seemed called for. Every snowboarder she’d ever known was pretty much the opposite of serious.

“I’m kidding,” she finally said.

“Oh... That’s funny.” He let out a laugh. The sound was deep and rich, and it surprised her. He should laugh more often, she thought, because it made him seem much less uptight.

Inexplicably proud of herself for the grin still on his face she went on. “Seriously, though, we will offer snowboarders the same things we offer skiers—top-of-the-line equipment rentals, meticulously groomed slopes and plenty of beautiful dry powder. As you can see, we have the most delicious snow here.”

“No terrain park? Or a half-pipe? Quarter-pipe at least?”

Disappointed to find his intensity already back, she recovered quickly. “Not at this time. Too expensive. We’re a family-friendly ski resort catering to the recreational skiers of beginner to intermediate levels. Our focus is—”

“Ski and snowboard resort,” he interrupted again.

“What?”

“It’s a ski and snowboard resort, right?”

She felt a furrow of frustration bending her own brow and made a conscious effort to ease it away. “Doesn’t that go without saying?”

A thoughtful expression evolved on his face. “Not really, no—not from a marketing standpoint. Snowy Sky Ski and Snowboard Resort sounds better, don’t you think? I do,” he confidently answered his own question and then went on, “Snowboarders like to feel welcome. For so long we were looked down on, even banned in some places.”

Was he serious with this? That had been, like, twenty years ago. He wanted her to change the name of the resort to that tongue twister so that snowboarders would feel welcome? Not happening.

But how best to state it diplomatically? “Um...”

“So, you expect the more advanced athletes to do what?”

She felt her brows shoot upward in surprise along with a spike of impatience. “Whatever they like. We have some advanced runs. And there’s always JB Heli-Ski for you adrenaline junkies.”

She was referring to the heli-ski operation she’d opened the winter before with her friend Cricket Blackburn. The business wasn’t a part of Snowy Sky, but she knew Tate was aware of it because Cricket had told her that he had visited Rankins a few times in the past year. Cricket had even given him a ride in the helicopter earlier in the fall, before the onset of the ski season.

“I’m not an adrenaline junkie,” he replied with a steady tone.

She had the feeling he was going to add something else, but he didn’t. He just stared with that same sober expression. She tried not to fidget, but it was so disconcerting.

“I’ve seen you compete. You’re telling me those tricks you do—the tricks you invented—that doesn’t give you a rush?”

“It was my job. I was good at it.” He shrugged like he was still thinking about the question. “Winning gave me a rush I guess. I like to win.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, trying not to let her consternation show. “You should try heli-skiing sometime. It’s fun.”

“I snowboard. I don’t ski.”

Thank you for clarifying, Mr. Literal, Hannah thought, just barely managing to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she offered up a smile. “You can take a board into the backcountry, too, you know? People do it all the time. I’m sure it’s not as fun as skiing but...” she trailed off with an easy shrug.

“Yeah, no, I mean—I know. I’ve been boarding in backcountry before. That’s not what I was referring to.”

She had no idea how to respond. He really was a tough crowd.

Luckily, he changed the subject. He pointed in the vicinity of lift four and asked a technical question that got them back on track and into safer territory.

Hannah knew the answer, and after they’d toured a portion of each of the four lift areas, more of the runs and prospective runs, they headed to the main lodge. The building had been framed and roughed in before winter hit so the interior could be completed during the darker, colder months.

They ventured inside as she explained the plans for the lodge, including the layout and its features, and even some of the design aspects.

Throughout the tour Tate took notes and asked numerous questions, none of which stumped her and all of which she felt she’d answered thoroughly and with ease. He seemed satisfied with her responses and as the time flew by, he seemed to relax.

She even made him laugh a couple more times. And something told her that might be just as much of an accomplishment as the meeting’s success.

CHAPTER THREE

TATE HANDED A set of Christmas lights to his longtime coach, mentor and friend Viktor Kovalenko. He began unwrapping another string from its exasperatingly tight packaging, barely resisting the urge to use his teeth.

“I’m telling you, Viktor, she hasn’t made one move to accommodate snowboarders. At all. Other than the resort will be offering board rentals in the shop. Park told me she has plans to order maybe a third of the equipment she has slated for skiing.”

“Really?” Viktor started up the stairs, looping the string of lights around the banister. Tate had purchased the lights in town as well as a wreath for the door and some other decorations with the intent of spreading some Christmas cheer around the house for Lucas.

“She knows about skiing. I’ll give her that. And she’s doing a fine job there. She’s working on an awesome cross-country set up. And the heli-skiing venture she started with Cricket is amazing. It’s already becoming super popular with backcountry enthusiasts. I went up with Cricket when I was here in the fall. I got a glimpse of the incredible terrain they have access to. And now with this snowpack I’m anxious to get out there and try it out myself.”

Tate had met Cricket Blackburn on his first scouting trip to Rankins. They’d become friendly over the course of three successive visits. Cricket had introduced him to Park Lowell, who had turned him on to the investment opportunity that Snowy Sky offered. Snowy Sky had tipped him over the edge when making the difficult decision of trying to decide where to make a permanent home for himself and his makeshift family.

“This resort could be really special, but she’s limiting its potential. Plus, she seems awfully blasé about her position as resort manager.”

Viktor paused. “Blasé?”

“Yes, she’s young and she’s...” He searched for a description but all he could think of was cheerful. “She’s not unconcerned, but...”

Flippant? No, that wasn’t exactly the right word either. Lighthearted? Yes, but there was really nothing wrong with that, was there? And he didn’t add that she was funny and that he’d also had a good time with her. None of that mattered because he needed to think about the resort’s future success. And Lucas. Especially Lucas.

“I don’t know exactly. She’s mostly professional, though maybe not quite serious enough or...” That wasn’t right either. He gave up with a dismissive head shake.

“What are you going to do?” Viktor asked, plugging one end of the string into an extension cord. The multicolored strands flickered and then glowed with cheerful color. He surveyed their work and grinned with satisfaction. “Lukie will like this.”

Tate agreed. “I asked him what kind of tree he’d like for Christmas and he told me he doesn’t remember ever having a Christmas tree.”

Viktor nodded sadly. It didn’t need to be said that money had specifically been sent each and every year to give Lucas a proper Christmas because they both knew. There had been a tree the last time Tate had spent Christmas with Lucas and Lexie, but Lucas had only been three years old.

“This year we change that,” Viktor stated confidently.

Like always, Tate appreciated Viktor’s optimism. Tate knew he needed to make a lot of changes for Lucas’s sake. It was difficult to even know where to start.

“Yes, we will.” Tate adjusted the lights, making sure they hung evenly. He knew Lucas was asleep in his room upstairs but still he lowered his voice as he asked, “Was I as troubled as Lucas when you took me in?”

Viktor halted his ministrations, his hands twinkling with color, and thought for a long minute. “I am not sure how to answer. It is difficult to know the mind of a child—the damage that is done. It comes out over time. I believe as part of healing process. You were unsettled also, like Lukie, tentative and even quieter. But your dedication to snowboarding saved you as much as I did.”

Tate smiled at the man who had managed to wrest him away from Penny at the age of seven—purchased him essentially after dating her during a brief stint of sobriety. She’d been waitressing at the ski resort where Viktor worked. He’d been kind to Tate, introducing him to snowboarding. Tate had been a progeny and Viktor, seeing his potential, had offered to coach him, eventually striking a deal with Penny that allowed him to raise Tate as long as she kept receiving financial help.

Viktor always downplayed the role he’d assumed in Tate’s life, but they both knew very well that he wouldn’t be where he was if it wasn’t for Viktor—not anywhere even close.

“Let’s hope that works for Lucas, too.”

“Yes, we will hope. And if not, we will find what does.”

But Tate wanted this to work. It had to because he didn’t know anything besides snowboarding. He was counting on using the sport to forge a bond with his nephew. Just as it had between him and Viktor.

Viktor added, “He is two nights now without nightmare.”

“Yes, he is,” Tate said with a relieved sigh. “He loves that crocodile night-light you got him. Told me it keeps the darkness away. The actual darkness and the scary kind he has bad dreams about.”

Viktor’s lips curved up into a grin. “You had night-light, too. It was tooth. You remember this one? You get from dentist.”

He did remember. He still had it, tucked in a box in his condo back in Colorado.

“I wonder if Lucas has ever been to the dentist?”

“We will check on that. Before toothache comes.”

“Good idea,” Tate replied. “As far as Snowy Sky goes, I don’t have any choice. I’ll have to take my recommendations to the board. Now that we’re investors we need to think about the bottom line, as well.”

“Does Ms. James know how much of resort you own?”

He grimaced. “Not exactly.” He joined another string of lights to Viktor’s.

“Does she know you own any shares of Snowy Sky?” Viktor asked, adjusting the strings as he slowly descended the stairs.

“Uh...no.”

“How do you think that will go over when she finds out?”

He shrugged helplessly and tried to squelch a surprising, annoying niggle of guilt as the tiny bulbs flashed on, as bright as Hannah’s smile. He couldn’t think about her smile or those amber-colored eyes that seemed to dance with a kind of mischief.

Cricket had mentioned the James family of course. He had even met a few people he now realized would be Hannah’s brothers or cousins. Park had also filled him in about the status and reputation her family enjoyed in Rankins. Undoubtedly she’d had a storybook upbringing as a member of the esteemed James family. It was certainly easy to deduce from her demeanor that the woman hadn’t known much hardship in her life.

But Tate had, and so had Lucas—which was why he needed to stay focused on the endgame.

“I didn’t want that knowledge to influence anything she told me. I wanted her to think she was talking with an objective observer. And, I didn’t want her to think she had to impress me.”

Viktor slowly descended the last few stairs, admiring their handiwork as he went. When he reached the bottom, he turned a hesitant look on Tate.

“Hmm,” he finally said.

“Hmm, what?”

“How are you objective?”

“In my capacity as a consultant I’m objective.”

“But what about your capacity as snowboarder? How does that make you any more objective than Ms. James with her background in skiing?”

Tate conceded that Viktor had a point. But he didn’t harbor any prejudice against skiing like she so obviously did against snowboarding. If only she would make a few simple—okay, maybe not-quite-so-simple—adjustments, equality could be achieved. Then harmony between the two sports would naturally follow at Snowy Sky.

* * *

CLOSING HER EYES, Hannah forced herself to do one more set. The doctors and her physical therapist had told her that the better shape she remained in, the less the trauma her body had suffered would prevent her from doing what she wanted to do in life.

Which made perfect sense, but this was heavy; she’d added more weight to her routine this morning. She focused on pushing the bar up as her muscles began to quiver.

Uh-oh, she realized, barbell now definitely heading in the wrong direction. She was going to have to roll out from under it somehow.

Her eyes snapped open as the bar was suddenly snatched out of her hands. The clinking sound it made as it was dropped on the rack seemed to echo through the empty weight room of the community center.

Cricket scowled down at her. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Hannah grinned up at him, wiping her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. “No, but I admit I may have pushed it a little too far. Thank you.”

He leaned over so his upside-down face was only inches above hers. “You should know better than to lift this much weight without a spotter. It’s weight lifting 101.”

She shifted her gaze one way and then the other. She tried to sound casual even as the danger of her actions began to sink in. “Well, there’s no one else here.”

“That’s because no one else in their right mind gets up at four in the morning to work out.”

“You do,” she spouted with a laugh.

“Yeah, so next time wait for me, okay?”

She sat up and mumbled a “fine” as she did so, because she knew he was right. That had kind of scared her.

He took a seat on the bench beside her. “How are you feeling anyway?” He motioned in the general direction of her left leg.

She nodded, but didn’t make eye contact. “Good.”

He kept staring. He always watched her close and for some reason she didn’t mind. She had known Cricket forever, but the last year and a half since becoming her business partner he’d also become like a brother to her. Closer actually than her own two brothers, who were both wonderful yet...

Her family was close, but Hannah had always felt odd having been born the middle child among her siblings—five years after her sister Shay who had come just two years after their oldest brother Tag. Those two were tight. Then Hannah had come along, and five years later the triplets had been born; Hazel, Iris and Seth. Those three were their own special kind of unit. Which had left Hannah kind of floundering in the middle, and then she’d been away so much of her childhood, skiing.

She knew it would be pointless to lie to him. “Still having some pain. It’s probably nothing, but I’m going to call the doctor.”

“When?”

“Soon,” she promised. “Right after the holidays.”

“Hannah—”

“That’s only a few weeks. It’s not getting worse. It’s just there. And I doubt it will make any difference.”

He eyed her skeptically. “How in the world could you possibly know that?”

She chuckled. “I don’t, but I was hoping you would buy it.”

* * *

HANNAH HADN’T SEEN the little boy during the next couple visits that followed their first encounter in the atrium, so this morning she was pleased to find him waiting for her. Technically, he was hiding again, but she felt confident he was doing so in anticipation of her arrival.

She pretended as if she didn’t see him as she ducked into the storage room to collect the fish food. She strolled over to the pond where the koi began to swim at a faster clip as they spotted her. Keeping one eye on the little boy, she threw a handful of food into the pond and then another.

“Ouch! My wrist hurts,” she called out and then shook her hand as if the motion had caused her pain. She looked toward the pond. “How will I feed you guys? I could really use some help.”

A soft voice floated over to her. “You should use your other hand.”

She stifled a grin. “Oh, I guess I could try that.” She reached into the bucket left-handed and then made a show of sloppily throwing the food on the floor. A few pieces dribbled into the water where the koi quickly gobbled them up.

A little breath huffed out its disappointment. “That wasn’t very good.”

She smiled. “I know. Cut me a break, will you? I’m not ambidextrous.”

A giggle followed and Hannah knew she was making progress.

He added, “I already know you’re not a frog.”

She thought, Ambidextrous? Oh, amphibian. She laughed. “Are you a frog?”

More giggling and then, “No.”

“Are you sure? I don’t trust frogs. They’re really jumpy. Have you noticed that?”

“Well, they hop.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about? It’s suspicious. I think they should walk like normal people.”

“But they’re not people. They’re frogs.”

“Like you?”

“Nooo...” He erupted with a fit of laughter and the sound warmed her heart.

“Maybe you should come over here and let me see for myself?”

Still grinning, he stepped tentatively out from behind the tree. Hannah asked, “Do you want to help me feed the koi?”

He shuffled sideways a few steps. “The what?”

She pointed. “The koi. These fish, they’re called koi.”

“I thought they were goldfish.”

“Nope, they’re different. Come a little closer and I’ll show you how and tell you their names.”

“They have names?”

“They do.” Hannah peered into the pond and then pointed. “That one—with the black and white, and the big spot of orange on its back? That is my koi and her name is Bridget. That spotted bright red and white one there is Jasmine.”

He cautiously skirted around the edge of the pond until he stood by her side. “What about that one?”

She followed his finger with her eyes. “The one that’s almost all orange? That’s Carmen.”

“Are they all girls?” Hannah thought he sounded disappointed by the notion.

“No. That’s Henry and that’s Emmett.” Pointing to a large white fish with black spots, she informed him, “The biggest one there. That’s Silvio.”

An interested expression lit his face and she felt certain he was committing this all to memory. She looked forward to quizzing him next time.

“What’s your name?”

“Lucas.”

“Okay, Lucas.” She handed him the bucket. “Go ahead and toss in some more breakfast. Remember we can only give them certain kinds of food or they might get sick, but after you’ve helped me feed them a few times, they’ll start to recognize you when you get close to the pond...”

* * *

HANNAH BAILED OFF the magic carpet—the conveyor system she’d chosen for the resort’s beginner slopes. The conveyor worked like a flat escalator allowing riders to easily step on and step off the belt. She pulled her tube across the hillside, stopping to assess their progress.

“Hey, Gareth, Reagan,” she called to her cousin Janie’s sixteen-and fourteen-year-old sons. “Let’s go over to...” She traipsed about forty feet and stopped well before the giant metal chairlift pole. “Right about here. That way we won’t have to worry about the little ones hitting anything.”

She wanted everything to be perfect before Janie’s four-year-old twins and the rest of their preschool class arrived for the sledding party.

Gareth and Reagan were going to assist kids on the magic carpet and with transporting sleds up the hill, while Freddie helped with unloading.

Hannah saw Janie’s Suburban pulling in. Janie’s husband, Aidan, had purchased it the day after they’d found out she was pregnant with her fifth child. The baby girl she was carrying would be Aidan’s first, but Janie had already had four boys with her late husband when she and Aidan had met. Gareth and Reagan were the oldest of these.

Hannah waved. The boys whizzed down the hill past her on their tubes.

“It’s awesome,” Gareth called out to her.

Hannah loved kids and regularly volunteered to arrange special seasonal events like nature hikes, fishing trips, bicycling or rock climbing. Today’s snow tubing would last two to three hours and they’d have hot chocolate, juice boxes and snacks served in the lodge afterward. “Hey, Gareth, I’m going to sled down to make sure Mindy has everything ready for later. I should be back by the time the crowd of ruffians arrives.”

He gave her a gloved thumbs-up.

She nodded and carried her tube to the slope that led toward the lodge and prepared to take off in that direction. Freddie had just groomed this hill, and as she stared at the vast expanse of bare white snow, she couldn’t resist the opportunity beckoning to her.

* * *

TATE HAD BEEN all over the mountain on a snow machine, but wanted to get a feel for the slopes firsthand. So that morning he’d loaded his board and rode as far up the mountain as he could. He’d arranged for one of the employees to bring him back up later to fetch the snow machine.

He hadn’t been on his board in weeks and it felt great. Snowboarding was the one activity where he could really lose himself. It was second nature, especially since he’d quit competing and could now ride solely for fun. He thought about Hannah’s adrenaline-junkie comment as he flew down the hill and wondered if his riding would change now that he didn’t have to worry about getting injured.

Although now he had Lucas to think about; he immediately slowed and then stopped. From there he decided to switch his course and head toward the lodge in order to view the area where he thought the first half-pipe should be constructed.

After halting again about halfway down, he bent over to fiddle with the binding on his boot. He was trying out a new design and didn’t have it adjusted quite right. Removing one boot from the board with the intention of making a further adjustment, he turned to assess the uphill landscape, and that’s when he saw someone flying toward him on a tube—backwards.

* * *

HANNAH FELT THE impact before she saw what she’d hit.

Her tube flipped and she somersaulted through the air, eventually landing hard on one shoulder before flopping onto her left side. A pain shot through her leg and she was immediately grateful she hadn’t landed on it with all of the force her shoulder had taken.

“What the...? Hannah? Is that you?”

Hannah couldn’t contain a groan as she rolled onto her back. Tate?

He muttered something unintelligible and then asked, “Are you hurt?”

She winced up at him. “Are you?”

“No.”

She bent her right leg at the knee and then slowly mimicked the motion with the left. A wave of relief followed.

“My shoulder is going to be sore, but I think my leg is fine. What are you doing here?”

“What is it with you and this reckless behavior?” He shot out the question in that stern, lecture-y tone she remembered from their initial encounter.

Why did she find it kind of funny? Her lips curved up into a grin. “Reckless? I’m tubing. What’s reckless about tubing?”

“Backwards? You weren’t watching where you were going.”

“I was spinning. My sisters and brothers and cousins—we used to do this thing when we were kids where we’d spin our tubes while swerving across the hill.”

Now he was scowling down at her so she quit explaining and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s no wonder you look so young.”

Hannah looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“Obviously there’s still a child dwelling behind that pretty face. Can you get up?” He extended a hand.

She felt her face grow warm at the weird compliment-insult. “Of course I can get up.” Except that she realized she sort of couldn’t, not without embarrassing herself.

He waited. She smiled up at him, wishing he would leave.

“Do you want me to help you up?”

“Nope,” she said, pushing herself up to rest on her elbows. “I got it. I’m good.”

“Okay.” Placing his hands on his hips, he continued watching her, waiting obviously.

“Hannah?”

“Hmm?”

“Why aren’t you getting up?”

“Well, Tate, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Are you hurt?” His voice went up several decibels and she realized he was worried about her.

Kind of sweet, she thought and added a smile before confessing. “My pants must have caught on your board because they are ripped on my south side.”

A gloved hand went up to cover his grin, which Hannah thought was pointless because of the laughter now accompanying it. “Seriously?”

“Do you think I’m lying here in the snow because it’s fun?”

He tipped his head as if considering the question. “I don’t know. I’ve seen you do it before.”

She opened her mouth, and then snapped it shut. She let out a laugh before asking, “Did you just make a joke?”

“Yes,” he said, still grinning. “I guess I did.”

“It was funny. You should do it more often.” Keeping her tone nonchalant she asked, “Maybe you could go fetch my tube?” Which she’d noticed was now flat. She was probably lucky she wasn’t hurt. Other than the jolt of pain in her leg, but it seemed fine now. Well, as fine as it had been lately.

“I can carry it behind me strategically.”

She couldn’t make out the words he muttered as he stepped toward her, bent and scooped her up—one arm beneath her shoulders one under the knees, and carried her toward the lodge.

She tried to look dignified, but she could tell Tate was trying not to laugh because she could feel the rumble of a chuckle deep in his chest. She gave up, buried her face in his jacket, and let her own laughter roll.

Mindy looked a bit startled when they came through the door both still grinning.

“Hannah?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Hey, Mindy. Yes, I’m fine.” She added a wave, still cradled in Tate’s arms. “Have you met Tate Addison yet? Tate, this is Mindy Reese. She works at Little Cubs Preschool and is in charge of the after-sledding snacks for the troops today. Mindy, this is Tate. He’s working here as a consultant for Snowy Sky.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mindy said. If she thought it strange that Tate was holding her, she refrained from mentioning it. Hannah appreciated that.

He said, “You, too, Mindy.”

Hannah pointed across the large expanse of mostly empty room. “You can take me down there. I have a room I use as an office.”

He headed there where he finally lowered her to her feet. She could tell he was being careful to keep her backside away from the door, and she liked the gentlemanly approach.

He was gesturing backward toward the door with his thumb. “I’m just going to... Unless, is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

She held up a finger as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She removed it and read the text from Janie. She cast a thoughtful look at him and wondered if it would be too much to ask. Although, he had offered.

“Yes, actually there is.”

CHAPTER FOUR

TATE DIDN’T HAVE much experience with kids, but how difficult could a sledding party with a group of four-and five-year-olds be? He’d been spending nearly every minute of the past few weeks with Lucas and aside from the near-constant worrying, he felt as though he was doing okay.

Roughly a half hour later he held a firm belief that the preschool teacher Elaine deserved a raise—a huge raise, and probably a very long all-expenses-paid vacation. A little boy named Bryce kept licking his inner tube, another boy refused to get on the magic carpet facing forward, and a blonde pixie of a girl had removed her coat and refused to put it back on. Tate was afraid she was going to end up with hypothermia.

“Would you please put your coat on, Bea?” At least he’d learned her name.

She gave her head a hard shake, blond locks peeking out from beneath a bright pink fleece hat.

He tried being firm. “Bea, put your coat on. It’s too cold to go without a coat.”

More head shaking.

“It’s dangerous,” he tried, which didn’t seem to faze her in the least.

He attempted a gentle threat, “Do you want me to get your teacher? She might make you go to the lodge.” Although he had no idea how to summon the teacher at this point, or even if she would do that. Elaine was currently on top of the hill with the rest of the tiny phenomenally energetic sledders.

She gave him another careless shrug.

He resorted to negotiation. “I’ll give you twenty dollars if you put your jacket back on?”

She smiled, lolling her head back and forth in a figure-eight pattern while he held the jacket aloft like some kind of frantic matador.

“Fifty dollars?” Was bribery the same as negotiation?

He was ready to double the amount when he sensed a presence behind him—or maybe he heard the snickering. He turned to find Hannah watching him, humor dancing in her eyes.

“Thank goodness, you’re here. She won’t wear her jacket. I’m not sure what to do. The teacher is up there And she’s...” Tate heard the desperation in his tone as he pointed at the top of the slope. “It’s like ten degrees out here.”

She took the jacket from him. “Bea, why aren’t you wearing your jacket, girlfriend?”

“Because Shane said it’s the same color as slime.”

“Slime?”

The little girl nodded her head.

“Ah, I see. But he means that in a good way. Shane loves slime. I think the danger here is that Shane might love you, too.”

Bea let out a gasp, her arms shooting out straight at her sides, allowing Hannah to slip the jacket on. Hannah zipped it up, tucked her scarf around her neck and made sure her hat was secure.

“Thanks, Hannah. How do my curls look?”

“Perfect—just like you, little one.” Hannah flipped her head toward the magic carpet. “Now go get ’em.”

Bea trotted off to join the others.

“Ask Shane if he likes slime,” she called after Bea, who kept going as she gave her an over-the-shoulder thumbs-up.

“How did you do that?”

“Well, I have some inside knowledge.”

Tate gave her a look that said he knew it was more than that.

“I will give you a tip, though, so you don’t go broke. Five bucks, fifty bucks—kids this age don’t really get the concept of the amount. In fact, hold out a handful of change in one hand and a couple bills—any denomination—in the other and see what they go for. To them, more is more—literally. Except when it comes to candy. You’d be amazed at what they’ll do for one single piece of candy.”

“I was desperate. I would have paid a lot more. I thought she was going to freeze to death.”

Hannah laughed. “Not gonna happen—they’ll seek shelter before they dip to the freezing level.”

She pointed at her pink snow pants, her mouth forming a playful grin. “Thank you for holding down the fort for me so I could get these.”

He felt his pulse jump at the thought of recent circumstances. “You’re welcome. No problem. That was fast. You must live pretty close to here?”

“I do, you know that log cabin just up the road from the Faraway Inn? It belongs to my sister Shay. She owns the inn, and I rent the house from her. Have you taken a turn on a tube yet?”

“Um, no. Elaine suggested that I help the kids get back to the magic carpet after they arrive here at the bottom. It seems like a simple job, right? But they are a slippery bunch, not at all like my...”

He was going to mention Lucas when a pair of young boys with reddish-brown hair peeking from beneath their hats ran toward Hannah and enveloped her in a huge hug.

“Hannah!” They shouted in unison.

“Hey, my favorite twins! Wow, Finn I saw how fast you were on that last run. I’m thinking competitive luge is in your future, buddy. Gabe, guess what we’re having in the lodge after sledding?”

“Don’t tease me, Hannah-Banana, you better be talking hot chocolate.”

She laid a hand on his stocking-capped head. “You know I wouldn’t tease about hot chocolate. Hey, guys, this is Tate. He’s a friend of mine. These little cuties are my cousin Janie’s twins. As are the two teenage helpers there, Gareth and Reagan.”

A tandem greeting followed, then one of them commented, “Except Gareth and Reagan aren’t twins like us.”

“This is true. Thank you for clarifying that for Tate, Twin-Finn.”

The little boys nodded happily and galloped off...

“Later, twin-gators,” Hannah called after them.

“After a while, Banana-crocodile,” one of them shouted back.

Tate studied her. She seemed relaxed, amused and thrilled to be here. How did she do that?

“You’re so good with them. Do you have kids?”

“Nope. Big family. Lots of experience. Plus, I know these kids. I volunteer at the preschool one morning a week. And do some fun things with them—like this.” She gestured at the hill.

Hannah clearly had a gift—that kid-thing that some people were just born with, which served to remind him of how little of it he had himself.

* * *

“THAT WAS REALLY nice of the fairy to let you help her feed the goldfish. Next time be sure to come and get me when she’s here.” Tate smiled at Lucas who’d just finished relaying the details of his latest encounter with the fairy in the fish room.

“She hurt her hand so she needed my help. She thanked me and she told me the names of some of the kois. That’s what they’re called, not goldfish, Uncle Tate.” He heard the pride in Lucas’s voice and felt grateful to this lady for taking the time to make Lucas feel special.

He thought about Hannah and how natural her interaction had been with the kids on the sledding hill. He’d been reading books on childcare and child psychology, but he wondered if there was some kind of class he could take. Would it be weird to ask her for advice? What he needed was to get Lucas up on the snowboarding hill.

“That’s so cool, little man. I’ll try to remember that. Do you want to pick out a book for us to read together?”

Lucas examined the large selection on the bookshelf he and Viktor had stocked.

He chose a brand-new picture book, running his fingers over the cover. “The lady might not actually be a fairy. I think she might just look like a fairy. She has fairy—” he paused to think and then pointed at his own face “—eyes.”

Tate stifled a laugh. Fairy eyes? He had no idea what that meant. “I see. Well, she sounds like a very nice young lady whether she is actually a fairy or not.”

“She’s really nice,” Lucas assured him authoritatively as he moved toward his bed and peeled back the comforter. He liked to look at his sheets before he climbed in. This set was covered with tiny monkeys in goofy poses. Funnily enough, Tate remembered being fascinated by sheets, too. It was too much of a chore, or used too many quarters, for Penny to wash bedding so he’d always used a sleeping bag. Tate still hated sleeping bags.

“We’re friends. You should see if she wants to babysit me sometime.”

That was a good idea. Since Lucas had come into his life full-time, he hadn’t wanted Tate to leave him at all. He’d finally reached the point where he’d stay with Viktor, but for Lucas himself to suggest spending time with someone else felt like a huge leap of progress. Tate thought since the girl was fish-sitting for the homeowner, maybe she’d be willing to babysit for him.

“That’s a great plan. Maybe we’ll do that.”

He had intended to meet her and thank her for her kindness to Lucas, but so far she’d slipped in and out of the atrium without him even knowing she was there.

Tate knew he’d choose a book about animals. Lucas was enthralled with animals and Tate was both happy and surprised by how much he knew about them. He picked up the book about a hippopotamus who thought he wanted to be a rhinoceros and began to read.

* * *

FRIGID AIR TICKLED Hannah’s lungs. It was a gorgeous winter day. The sun might not have a lot of hours to shine in an Alaskan December, but today it had decided to make the most of the time it did have. Shards of light beamed through the grayish-blue clouds and spotlighted the snow-covered peaks in the distance. Pieces of heaven shining through, as her late grandfather Gus used to say.

She entered the beautiful wood-and-stone-constructed lobby of the Faraway Inn, removed and stowed her outer layers, and headed toward the restaurant. Delicious aromas assaulted her senses as she walked into the vast expanse of dining room. Her stomach responded with a hungry rumble as she thought about Chef Javier’s cooking.

Waving to some of the other committee members already seated at a long rectangular table, she headed toward the drink station to fetch herself a cup of coffee. Her cousin Adele who was the Faraway Restaurant’s manager appeared at her side.

Hannah and the rest of the James family hadn’t even known of Adele’s existence until a couple years ago, after Shay had hired her inadvertently as a waitress.

At that time Adele had only recently learned of her heritage. She had come to Rankins hoping to find a place in the James family while thinking she might be entitled to a share of the inn. She’d earned the former even though she’d been mistaken about the latter. She and Hannah had become close friends during the ensuing ordeal.

“How’s it going?” Adele asked.

“Good. How about you? The dining room looks super busy.”

Adele smiled, light brown eyes so similar to her own dancing merrily.

“Thanks to you. We’ve got another group of heli-skiers staying here. From what I can gather, if they’re not skiing they are eating.”

Hannah chuckled as she poured her coffee. “The sport definitely requires fuel. And Cricket does a great job of promoting the restaurant.”

Adele’s jaw tightened as she repeated his name.

Something had recently transpired between Adele and Cricket, but Adele wasn’t talking—yet.

Cricket had once been considered Rankins’s most sought-after bachelor, but his reluctance to date meant his status had gradually evolved from eligible to confirmed. Hannah secretly believed he and her brother Tag had turned their single statuses into some kind of competition.

“What about him?” Hannah asked.

“He’s here right now. Over by the windows, close to the fireplace, he’s having lunch with your snowboarder.”

For some reason the mention of Tate made her heart skip a beat. “My snowboarder? Very funny, Adele. Tate is here? Where?” What was with her hopeful tone of voice?

“Yep, right here.” She flinched as a deep, now-familiar voice sounded behind her.

She cast a wide-eyed look of horror at Adele.

Adele grinned and then whispered loudly, “Sneaky, isn’t he? For a big guy?”

“I’ll say,” Hannah said and turned around.

Tate’s eyes latched on to hers, an amused grin playing on his handsome face along with something else. Something that looked like interest and sent her pulse officially racing. As embarrassed as she was, at least she managed to eke a bit of satisfaction out of the fact that she’d finally made him smile without even trying.

Laughter laced his tone. “Can I help you with something, Hannah?”

“Um, no...I was just... Hello, Tate.” She gestured at Adele. “This is my cousin and—”

Tate smiled in Adele’s direction. “I know. Hi, Adele.”

“You do?”

“Cricket introduced us,” Adele explained.

“Oh, that’s good,” she muttered.

He asked, “Hannah, do you have a minute? I’d like to ask you something.”

Adele pointed toward the group of people seated at the long table. “Looks like the meeting is about to start, so I’ll go join them, and fill you in on anything you miss.”

“Thanks, Adele.”

Tate motioned for Hannah to follow as he strode toward the lobby. Along the way they dodged Faraway Inn employees who were busy hauling decorated Christmas trees down the hall toward the restaurant.

“There is some serious Christmas spirit in this place. That’s a lot of trees.” He stopped in front of one covered with ski-related ornaments and sparkly snowflakes. “This one is really cool.”

“Thank you. I did it. Well, mostly Janie and Adele did it with my moral support. I’m not very crafty. But, it was donated by Snowy Sky.”

“There are no snowboards on it, though.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and craned his neck around the tree as if searching for some.

She grinned, finding herself taken in by his teasing good humor. “Huh, that is weird,” she answered, pretending to look puzzled. “I was sure that we put a whole bunch of snowboards all over it.”

“Mmm...” He faked his own perplexed scowl and she was utterly captivated, and a little grateful that he didn’t act like this all the time. Who would have guessed the man could be so charming? The last thing she needed was a crush on the ski-resort consultant.

“It’s for a fund-raising event.”

“Oh, right.” He eyed the trees speculatively. “The Tree something or other.”

Hannah was a little surprised that he knew about it, although there was advertising for it all over town. “Festival of Trees, and yes, actually that’s what my meeting is about right now. I’m on the committee.”

Slipping his hands into his back pockets, he exhaled loudly. “Okay. You probably need to get to that. So, what I wanted to ask you is... I was just talking to Cricket Blackburn? About your heli-skiing operation?”

“Mmm-hmm, I know Cricket,” Hannah said with her own teasing grin.

He let out a chuckle. “Of course you do... And you’ve been out heli-skiing with him, right?”

“Yes, of course, many times. We’re partners, remember?”

He brushed a hand through his hair. “Of course you have... Um...”

Why was he acting so weird? It was almost as if he was nervous.

“I think we covered this already. It’s an absolute blast,” she added, trying to move the conversation along.

“I figured I’d take my board and go with him to check it out. And I wanted to see if you—”

Uh-oh. She could see where this was going. She interrupted, “No, thank you, Tate. I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary.”

He looked confused. “What’s not necessary?”

“JB Heli-Ski is a separate entity from Snowy Sky. We haven’t requested your input or recommendations where it’s concerned. Your consulting fee doesn’t cover anything related to it.”

A surprised laugh burst from his lips as he said, “Oh, I know that. I was just... Okay.” He added a nod.

She smiled, glad that he was taking this so well. “Good, because I realize you’re just doing the job you were hired to do here and I respect that. I am cooperating and assisting in every way I can. But I’m going to be honest with you. I didn’t hire you. The board of directors voted on it because Park Lowell insisted...” She trailed off with a shake of her head. He didn’t need to hear how she felt about Park.

“But that doesn’t matter. You’re here and I’m fine with that. Let’s just stick to your original mission at Snowy Sky, though, okay? And leave JB as it is?”

He nodded. “Sure, okay. But I was actually going to...”

His eyes seemed to search her face and she felt a fresh wave of attraction. There was a vulnerability beneath his tough exterior that she found incredibly appealing.

She said, “You were going to...? I’m sorry to hurry you along, but I do need to get to my meeting.”

“Sure thing. I’ll let you get going.” He grinned. “You’re a tough one—you know that?”

She was relieved that he didn’t seem offended. It wasn’t personal. He genuinely seemed like a good guy and under different circumstances she could see herself really liking him. She did like him, actually, and she could imagine... But these were not those different circumstances and it was pointless to spend time “imagining” anything at all.

“Thank you, I think. Because although I’m not sure what you’re referring to specifically, I certainly don’t mind being called tough.” She smiled and added a wink before hurrying back into the dining room.

* * *

TATE WATCHED HER walk away, his head spinning from that parting look. She’d graced him with that gorgeous smile, which was bad enough, but when she’d winked he’d felt this sensation somewhere deep in his chest.

He’d never met anyone like her. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so full of life. At first he’d had his doubts, wondered what kind of person jumped off a ski lift into the snow because it was fun. Then there was the sledding incident. She could have injured herself then, too. But her only concern had been whether he was okay. That, and her torn pants. Which she’d also handled with a perfect mix of humor and grace.

And watching her with those preschoolers had done something to him. He wanted to spend some time with her, wanted to talk to her about Lucas. He’d like to introduce her to Lucas.

Lucas.

It was probably for the best, he told himself, that she had shut him down without her even realizing he was about to ask her out.

Heli-skiing had seemed like a good bet for a first date. Regret surfaced even as he reminded himself that he didn’t have time to get involved with someone. His focus needed to be on Lucas and creating the best home and family environment that he possibly could, which included his plans for Snowy Sky. Something told him that spending time with Hannah would definitely lead to involvement.

Cricket walked up to join him. “How did that go?”

Tate shrugged. “Condensed version?”

“Sure.”

“She didn’t get it that I was trying to ask her out and then I very smoothly told her she was, uh...tough.”

“Swept her right off her feet, huh?”

“Something like that.” Tate chuckled wryly and shook his head in defeat.

“What did she say?”

“She thought I was trying to offer my consulting services to JB Heli-Ski. And then she very nicely told me to mind my own business.”

“That’s our Hannah.” Cricket laughed for a few long seconds. He wrapped an arm around Tate’s shoulder. “You know what? I like you, Addison. And because of that I’m going to let you in on a fact that is well-known here in Rankins. Save you some trouble, or at the very least some precious time figuring it out on your own.”

“By all means.”

“These James girls are tough, and Hannah in particular is incredibly tough and competent and brave. It’s something you might not want to forget.”

Tate liked that sentiment—a woman who was strong and courageous and confident in herself, although in light of what he would be bringing to the board in a few days, he wondered if those traits should also make him nervous.

CHAPTER FIVE

BOARD MEETINGS WERE usually held in the conference room at the Faraway Inn and this one was no exception. Hannah’s sister Shay, who owned the inn, always saw to it that the necessary equipment was carefully and meticulously arranged; monitors, cameras and audio so even members participating long-distance were able to converse. The result was a modern, professional, yet comfortable atmosphere and usually she enjoyed the gatherings.

But not today, because now Hannah stared at Tate and listened to his comments and suggestions—and to his recommendations to completely and thoroughly unravel her ski resort.

He wanted to change everything.

He proposed turning nearly all of the runs under chairlift two—her prime intermediate ski runs—into snowboard terrain.

“I feel strongly that the construction of a half-pipe right here—” he stopped to point and she felt it like a jab in the chest “—would be the perfect location. Eventually the addition of a second half-pipe here...”

Was he joking? Two half-pipes? One would cost a lot—way more than they could afford at this point. Not to mention the continual maintenance. She looked down at the estimates he’d passed out before he started speaking. Two would be excessive to the nth degree.

“A snowboard-cross course or some slope-style components would also help to draw competitive boarders.” He met her eyes for a few seconds before adding, “And skiers. Snowy Sky could hold competitions and I guarantee you would get some professionals coming here to train. I’ve already talked to...”

Rattling off names she guessed were supposed to impress them all, he went on to add credence to his economic points with more numbers and statistics. Then he mentioned that while the lodge’s overall theme was “quaint and charming,” the design should be “upgraded” and the layout “altered” for a more modern feel, and it should also include high-end penthouse suites.

According to Tate, even the restaurant should serve different food.

She glanced around the room, and at the faces peering back from the monitors, and was struck with the feeling that she was the only one who hadn’t been hypnotized by this magician. The one possible exception was her friend Edith Milner whose expression Hannah thought held some skepticism.

As one of Snowy Sky’s largest investors, Edith had been instrumental in helping Hannah throughout this whole process—from permits to securing funding. Hannah had received a large settlement after the accident but not nearly enough to open the resort on her own. Edith had made it all possible, investing heavily and bringing others on board through her vast business connections, including her friend and fellow koi enthusiast Tiger Takagi.

But the other board members seemed riveted by Tate’s commentary and suggestions.

Hannah felt like screaming.

She’d been ready for the subject of snowboarding to be addressed, had even thought about the places where she might defer—or at the very least compromise. But never once had he said he intended to recommend an overhaul of the entire resort.

He had ambushed her plain and simple.

She forced herself to remain calm, though, because in spite of his failure to disclose his intentions, she felt confident she had the votes to reject any proposals based on Tate’s recommendations. Between her, Edith and Mr. Takagi, their block was strong enough.

Upon his closing remarks, Hannah sought permission from the chairman to speak.

“Thank you, Tate, for that informative report and those interesting facts. However, I believe I have explained to you that Snowy Sky’s focus will be a family-oriented, vacation-destination type of ski resort. Skiing is not a cheap endeavor for most families and a huge part of our draw is the large amount of beginner and intermediate ski runs, affordable rentals, lodging and food. We’re not interested in attracting professional snowboarders and competitions, or replacing our prime ski runs with snowboard terrain. One half-pipe is at best cost prohibitive. Two half-pipes feels disproportionate. How would we pay for one? And where would this influx of snowboarders come from that we could possibly justify two?”

“Skiers use half-pipes now, too,” he returned.

“Not the average skier.”

“The practice is growing in popularity.” He sounded completely confident and a little dismissive as he shifted his focus back to the screen. “If you look at these numbers I’ve compiled, you’ll see...”

After he finished his rebuttal, the board began discussing his various recommendations and asking questions. The level of excitement in the air reminded Hannah of a high school pep rally.

Over the din, Tate flashed another smile at her. But this was a smile she hadn’t seen before. One of satisfaction? She should have known he wasn’t taking her seriously. She’d thought they were becoming friends, had even found herself pondering whether they could be more than that. Something she hadn’t considered about anyone in nearly three years—not since the accident. Not since Spencer.

Park was beaming. He tried to catch her eye; she ignored him. But she couldn’t ignore the enthusiastic sounds of the board members discussing the additional revenue competitions could bring. Yes, it would bring in revenue, she wanted to shout above the noise, but it would also add untold, unsound expense.

Tamping down her frustration, she reasonably pointed out, “Please keep in mind that accommodating competitions and snowboarders in this manner would be expensive and also result in keeping families and recreational skiers away.”

“I don’t agree,” Park countered. “The expense would be offset by the revenue. It’s pretty clear that we need these half-pipes.” He referenced some of Tate’s statistics and then went on in his annoyingly superior tone, “As board members, it should be our job to focus on ensuring the economic success of Snowy Sky in any way possible.”

Edith chimed in from one of the monitors, “That does not include reckless spending, Mr. Lowell. In my opinion, Hannah and the board’s existing and more conservative approach has a much better cost-to-benefit ratio.”

Tate diplomatically added that implementing his recommendations would still leave more than adequate space for the “run-of-the-mill skier.”

Run-of-the-mill? Hannah felt a spike of annoyance. “These run-of-the-mill skiers you’re disparaging are going to be our bread and butter,” she countered smoothly.

He lifted his hands, palms up. “That’s fine. That’s great. I’m not trying to insult anyone here. All I’m asking is why not aspire to more than just bread and butter?”

“I know I would,” Park chimed in. “I’d like some steak and lobster every now and then.” An overly loud guffaw made him sound like the jerk she knew him to be.

More discussion ensued until Terry, the board’s chairman, suggested a special meeting be held in the near future to address Tate’s report. This would give everyone time to read and fully digest the material. Any proposals to take Snowy Sky in a “different direction” could be presented at that time. They voted to hold it the week after Christmas.

As the meeting progressed to other items, she barely heard them because those words, different direction, spliced together with his commentary replayed in her head, each time blurring her vision for Snowy Sky—her dream, her goals, her life—a little bit more.

She felt light-headed.

Then the chairman spoke again, “Before we adjourn, Park has requested time to bring up a new issue.”

All eyes turned toward Park who made a show of clearing his throat. He seemed to have a special smirk on his already smirk-filled face. Hannah felt a fresh swirl of dread as he began to speak.

“As we all know, during the finance and construction Snowy Sky Ski Resort Incorporated has sold two blocks of shares to investment firms, each block being twelve percent of the total shares. The purchasers were Pop Bottle Inc. and L-DOG Investments. L-DOG has just purchased the shares owned by Pop Bottle, giving L-DOG twenty-four percent ownership. L-DOG is ultimately one hundred percent owned by Tate Addison who according to our bylaws is now entitled to a seat on the board.”

He made a motion for Tate’s tenure to begin immediately. It was seconded.

Hannah sat in stunned silence, even as she reeled internally. She suddenly felt invisible within her own company—the company she had created. The resort she was building. These events seemed absolutely surreal. Tate owned a quarter of Snowy Sky? How could this have happened? Why in the world would Tate want a share of Snowy Sky?

None of this made any sense.

Before Terry could proceed with the vote, a voice of reason called out from her monitor again.

“Point of order, Mr. Chairman?”

Fixing her eyes on the screen, focusing on the face of her dear friend Edith Milner, currently vacationing in the south of France, Hannah prayed she could somehow stop this nightmare.

“Yes, Mrs. Milner?”

“According to our bylaws there is protocol to be followed as to the addition of new board members.”

“But this is an exceptional case,” Park returned confidently. “Surely we can forgo the normal vetting process here. As Tate is already involved in Snowy Sky, we can assume his motives are pure.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we make an exception to a legally binding procedure based on personal recommendations, are you, Mr. Lowell? One of our many responsibilities as board members is to keep the threat of litigation to an absolute minimum.”

Park looked flustered, and irritated.

Tate jumped in. “Not only do I think Mrs. Milner’s point is valid, I look forward to working with someone as astute as she clearly is. I suggest the vote for my tenure be tabled until the next earliest convenience.”

Edith’s voice boomed from the monitor again. “That’s a wonderful idea. I emailed you the section and paragraph number, Terry, pertaining to the procedure for adopting a new member. Please forward it to the other members, so that everyone may easily locate and review the information.”

Hannah wondered how Edith had found it so quickly, but knowing her friend the way she did, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn Edith had the bylaws memorized. She couldn’t wait for their next Skype session.

The motion was made and passed. As the meeting concluded, Hannah looked at her watch, pretending that she had some place to be. Gathering up her belongings, she left quickly with brief comments to a couple people and waves of goodbye to a few more. Snow started to fall as she strode out the door and across the parking lot to her SUV. She climbed in, started the engine to defrost the windows and tried to decide what to do.

Instead of driving the short distance to her house, she turned down the hill toward town. She needed to think.

An idea formed in her mind and she pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. By the time she left with two packages of comfort cookies and a sack of oranges, flakes were falling in earnest, but she didn’t even consider aborting her plan. At this point her only real comfort seemed to be the thought that at least there was one thing Tate Addison couldn’t take from her.

* * *

TATE PULLED HIS pickup into the heated garage of his rented home. Home. He took a moment to relish that thought; funny how the big house was already feeling exactly that way. When he’d signed the lease, he’d only viewed photos online.

The custom-built structure had turned out to be even more incredible than he’d imagined and yet somehow managed to maintain a cozy feel. He thought the log-cabin design and the amount of warm Alaskan cedarwood accents probably played a big part in accomplishing this atmosphere. Every time he walked through the door he counted his blessings that the house had become available.

Viktor was in the spacious kitchen preparing lunch. He enjoyed cooking and the skill was one of many domestic tasks that he’d insisted Tate learn so that he’d know how to take care of himself. Luckily for him, Viktor liked to cook more than he did, so often he did the shopping while Viktor prepared the meals.

He looked up as Tate walked in; his pale blue eyes alight with curiosity. “How did it go?”

“Good, I think.” He set a box of doughnuts on the counter and handed over the brown paper bag. “Look what I found at the bakery in town. You’re going to love that place if you haven’t been there already.”

Viktor peeked inside and then dipped his nose into the bag for a sniff. He reached in a hand and brought out a small chunk which he popped into his mouth.

“This is rye bread,” he stated and then mumbled happily in his native Ukrainian. “Thank you, Tate. We will have some with our lunch.”

Tate took a seat at one of the stools behind the bar directly across the black granite countertop from Viktor.

“Great reception from the board.” He thought about Hannah and amended the statement, “Most of the board.”

Viktor grinned. “Let me guess—your skier—she was not so pleased?”

My skier? He thought about how Adele had called him Hannah’s snowboarder. He’d liked that. Now he realized that he’d likely annihilated any chance of that. The thought depressed him to a surprising degree.

Despite her brave face at the meeting, he could see that she’d been upset. How upset? He wasn’t sure. She’d left too soon after the meeting for him to find out.

He snagged a piece of roast beef from the platter Viktor was assembling.

“No, she was not so pleased.” He repeated Viktor’s words with a grin of his own.

Viktor began slicing the deliciously pungent rye bread. After slathering a chunk with butter, he took a healthy bite, reminding Tate of Hannah’s comment at the board meeting about skiers being the “bread and butter” of Snowy Sky. A niggle of guilt poked him. He reminded himself that guilt had no place in this scenario. He was doing this for Lucas.

“What will you do?” Viktor asked between mouthfuls.

Tate shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. She will eventually see that my recommendations make sense. She can’t just ignore snowboarders. Well, maybe she can, but the board won’t—not now. And if she doesn’t like that, then I’ll have to make her understand how much this venture means to me—to us. This is more than a business deal. This is my life. Lucas’s life. Your life.”

Tate could tell Viktor wanted to comment further, so he brought up a hand in a scooping motion, gesturing for his friend to say what was on his mind.

“I am thinking...wondering is it possible it means much to her, as well?”

He considered the question. “I haven’t seen any evidence of that, nor has she mentioned as much or even alluded to it. She’s dedicated, for sure, but not connected to Snowy Sky in the way that I am now.”

Hannah might not take life quite as seriously as Tate did, but he thought she’d make an excellent resort manager, if she could see reason where the snowboarding accommodations were concerned. If not, then maybe Snowy Sky wasn’t the place for her. It wouldn’t be the first time the project manager of a company was outvoted by her or his own board. For some reason that thought bothered him, too. He comforted himself again with the notion that she would come around in time.

Lucas strolled in from the next room with a remote control in his hands. A flash of red and silver zoomed past them and into the kitchen where a radio-controlled car spun a fast circle and skidded to a stop.

“Hi, Uncle Tate.” Lucas skipped over and held his arms up so Tate could lift him for a hug. As he did, he felt that now-familiar burst of love unfurl in his chest.

“Hey, buddy.”

Soon, Tate set him back on the floor.

Lucas stayed put. “Can you come to the fish room with me?”

“Sure, do you think the fairy woman might be there?”

His face brightened at the idea and then just as quickly dimmed. “She usually comes pretty early in the mornings, so I don’t think so, but I want to tell you the names of all the kois.”

“Sounds fun. I should probably know their names since we live with them, right?” He turned to Viktor. “How long till lunch?”

Viktor was chopping fruit for a salad and informed them they had a half hour. Tate checked the time on his watch and he and Lucas headed for the atrium.

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