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.
HANNAH INHALED THE tangy scent of citrus as she quartered an orange, tossed it into the pond, and watched the happy koi pounce on the treat. A growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since her very early breakfast that morning. There had been doughnuts at the board meeting, but she’d been too edgy to eat. Turned out, her anxiety had been well placed.
Her spirits sank further as she realized how much Tate’s ownership share and accompanying seat on the board would weaken her own position.
But why would he invest in Snowy Sky? Why would he want to be on the board of directors? He had tons of other business interests and plenty of money of his own.
Tossing in another wedge of fruit, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Leaning back on the bench, she began peeling an orange for herself and tried to think about something else. The ficus tree across the pond caught her eye and she thought of Lucas.
An absolutely adorable child, although there was something about him. Something not quite right. He seemed anxious and too serious for a six-year-old. Hearing the swoosh of the door, she turned, hoping to see Lucas’s eager grin, which she did along with...
Tate?
Thoughts and questions tumbled through her brain; Lucas was Tate’s son? She realized now how the resemblance had been skirting around in her brain—those eyes, the dark hair and the shape of their faces. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Lucas had said his mom was dead, but that would make Tate a widower? She was sure she would have remembered if he’d ever been married.
Wait. Tate had leased Edith’s home? This atrium, this house? Her sanctuary and refuge temporarily belonged to Tate? Did this also mean