A Family Like Hannah's Read online

  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.