Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The flu.

Hank sighed as he drove toward home. His brother might have been younger by two years, but he was an excellent doctor and he said the flu was going around. There was nothing Sophie could do but drink fluids and wait it out.

Zoe had called Sophie’s mother to come over, and Hank had waited there with Sophie until Maggie had shown up. If she’d been surprised to see Hank there, she hadn’t shown it. All she’d said was, “How’s she doing?”

“Grumpy and fit to be tied,” Hank said.

“That sounds about right,” Maggie said. “Let me give you a tip if you want to get anywhere with my daughter. Her head is hard as a rock and it’s not easy for her to let other people do things for her.”

Hank’s lips twitched in amusement. “So I’ve noticed. I’ve been told I have a hard head a time or two as well. But I have the patience of Job.”

“Not too much patience I hope,” Maggie said. “I’m leaving town Friday.”

It had to be the weirdest conversation he’d ever had, and he wasn’t entirely sure they were talking about the same thing.

“I guess I have my work cut out for me,” Hank said.

She’d nodded and headed back to see her daughter, and Hank had left with Colt and Zoe.

“Thanks for coming to see her, Colt,” Hank said. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one,” he said. “Why don’t you invite her for Christmas dinner. With her mom leaving she might not have anyone to spend it with.”

“He’s so thoughtful,” Zoe said, looking at her husband with adoration. “He always remembers the little things. Unlike me who can never remember anything.”

Since Zoe spent most of her time on book deadlines and her head lost in a story, Hank could see why she wasn’t good at remembering everyday details.

“You have other qualities,” Colt said, kissing her forehead.

“Y’all get a room,” Hank said. “I’m going home.”

The snow was steady—nothing out of the ordinary—but it was enough for the tourists to get their money’s worth of ski runs. It picked up as he headed toward the mountain and crossed onto O’Hara land. His family had owned part of the mountain, along with a couple of lakes and land for as far as the eye could see, since his great-great grandparents had settled here from Ireland. Generations had been raised on that land, and now a new generation of O’Haras was learning what legacy meant.

He checked the time, noting it was just after nine o’clock. Between meetings and Sophie, he’d not gotten the chance to talk to his mother. So on impulse, he took the right fork in the road instead of the left. The road had been plowed so it was easy travel up the hill to his parents’ house.

The farmhouse sat like a beacon, porch lights on, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. That house held a lot of memories—laughter, tears, fights, joy—and it made him think of Sophie and what her childhood had been like with an alcoholic father.

The animals were all put up for the night, and he could see the lights for the stables in the distance where the horses were bedded down. But the big red barn behind the house drew his attention since the door was open and the lights were on full. The barn just behind the house was one for family gatherings. His mother had decorated every inch of the space with everything you could think of to entertain a family of their size. Not to mention Anne O’Hara liked to have parties for any occasion, so chances were his parents were out there scheming and taking measurements for some new project.

Hank parked his truck and stepped onto the snowy ground, and dogs barked and sprinted out of the barn and straight toward him. They’d always had dogs on the ranch, and these two were from the same line as the pup he’d had as a boy.

“Hey, Maverick,” Hank said, leaning down to greet the dog and scratch under his neck. “Good boy. Where’s Dad?”

Maverick woofed softly and then Goose padded up to say his hellos. And then his father walked out of the barn and closed the big doors behind him.

“I figured it was you,” his father called out. “Phone’s been ringing off the hook all day.”

Mick O’Hara was a handsome man—an older version of the five sons he’d sired—with silver hair that had once been black as coal and the blue eyes of the Irish gypsies he was descended from. His body was disciplined and in excellent shape for a man in his early sixties. Ranch life wasn’t for the weak.

“Bunch of busybodies that don’t have anything better to do,” Hank said.

“It’s not nice to talk about your family that way,” Mick said, making Hank chuckle. “Come on in the house. If your mother loves me she’ll have a pot of coffee going to warm me up. It’s the least she can do after making me build her a mudroom in the barn.”

“I’ve never seen a barn with a mudroom,” Hank said, tongue in cheek.

“That’s what I told her,” Mick said. “Woman’s got a head like a rock, but I’ll deny it if you tell her that. But she said how wouldn’t it be nice for everyone to have a place to put their winter or rain gear whenever we have big gatherings, and before you know it I’m out here measuring for shelves and shoe cubbies and making a mudroom the size of the Taj Mahal.”

Hank slapped his father on the shoulder and then squeezed as they walked back to the house together.

“I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished,” Hank said.

“Oh, you’re going to see it before it’s finished,” Mick said. “I’ve got enough tools for all you boys. Though between you and me I’d prefer Wyatt stick to painting. Boy never could figure out the right end of a hammer.”

Hank chuckled and said, “You did your best with him. But maybe don’t antagonize him. He carries a gun for a living.”

Mick snorted and opened the kitchen door, and the dogs padded in after them. Hank’s mother was sitting at the island, and when she saw him her face lit up and she came to hug him.

“Hank,” she said, holding him tight. “What a surprise.”

“Hey, what about me?” Mick asked.

Anne laughed and turned her attention to her husband, kissing him full on the mouth, and then she patted him on the backside. It had been like that for as long as Hank could remember. His parents had a marriage of love and affection and friendship, and he couldn’t even imagine not having the exact same thing when it was his time for marriage.

His dad put his cap on the hook and went to the sink to wash his hands, and his mother went over to the coffeepot.

“You want a cup?” she asked, brow quirked in question.

“Might as well,” Hank said. “It’s going to be a late night anyway.”

“I heard you had some distractions today,” Mick said, grinning.

“You heard?” Hank asked. “Are you on the gossip line now?”

His mother chuckled and brought his coffee over, and then set out cream and sugar for all of them. He took a seat at the big kitchen island, just like he had for his whole life. A lot of conversations had been had at the kitchen island.

“I’ll say the phone has been busy today,” Anne said. “How was your breakfast?”

“Illuminating,” Hank said. “What do you remember about Mitch Jacobs?”

“We went to school together,” Mick said. “We were in the same grade, but Maggie was close to a decade younger so I didn’t really know her well. If I remember right Mitch’s family moved here about the time we hit middle school. I don’t remember where they were from, and I never really knew his parents, but they came in with an influx of miners. They lived in one of the mining camps up in the mountains, and they’d all ride the bus in for school.

“He was always a temperamental guy,” Mick continued. “Played sports and was a decent athlete. But spent a lot of time on the sideline because of his temper. The town was half the size it is now, but he hung with the wrong crowd. And he was drinking even then. He went off for a good while after graduation. Joined the military. He was a good enough looking guy, I guess, lots of charisma to make up for the temper. And when he came back Maggie Lowman had eyes only for him. The Lowmans go back a few generations in Laurel Valley. Good people. Hard working. They always did the best with what they had, but Maggie and Lori were the end of the Lowman name.”

“Your father and I were already married when Mitch came back into town,” Anne chimed in. “Duncan was just a baby. Maggie was fresh out of high school and pretty as a picture. Everyone tried to warn her to stay away from Mitch, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She has that stubborn chin just like Sophie. Women always think they can change a man.”

Mick sighed and drank his coffee. “I never had much reason to cross paths with him once he was back. He spent most of his days at Duffey’s drinking and I spent most of my days here with the animals. I couldn’t even tell you how he got the money to spend on drinking.”

“I can tell you that,” Anne said hotly. “Maggie worked her tail off, especially after those girls came along.”

Hank winced and said, “Yeah, Sophie mentioned she used to clean house for you.”

“And she did an amazing job,” Anne said. “I paid her twice what anyone else would have charged and I told her to make sure she was putting some money away for the girls for a rainy day. If I’d told her to do it for herself she would’ve given every last penny to that wastrel, but she was a good mom and always wanted the best for her girls. I don’t think there was a person in this town who wasn’t secretly trying to help her survive. Mitch Jacobs was a wretched man, and driving off that mountain was probably the best thing that ever happened to Maggie.”

“Tell us how you really feel,” Hank said, smiling and taking his mother’s hand. “I’m glad Maggie had someone like you in her corner.”

Anne stopped and looked at him like she so often did, like she was seeing something deeper within him. She’d always been able to do that. A mother’s intuition maybe?

“You want to do the same for Sophie?” she asked. “You’ve had your eye on her a long time.”

He sighed, not even bothering to pretend that she hadn’t cut to the heart of the matter in seconds. “So much for my discretion,” he said, lips twitching.

“Oh, you were quiet about it,” she said. “But a mother tends to notice when someone catches her son’s eye. And she always caught yours. Not for long. Just a glance here and there. But it was enough to make me wonder.”

“She’s going to lose the bookstore,” he finally said. “She’s been putting Band-Aids on a crumbling dam and the city has recently tightened all the restrictions and codes. That building is a step away from being condemned.”

“You’re kidding,” his mother said. “I had no idea. It always looks so nice.”

“That would be the Band-Aids I was talking about,” Hank said. “Her wiring and plumbing are both out of code. She’d have to install an interior sprinkler system and a new HVAC system to comply with business regulations. It would cost her a fortune she doesn’t have. At least six figures. The bookstore is not in the busiest part of town. It does a good business, but it’s just enough for her to make payroll and business expenses, and still make a living herself. She’d do much better on the main strip.”

“I take it that’s where you come in?” Mick asked.

“I’m working on that,” Hank said. “I offered to buy the bookstore from her.”

“Oh, Lord,” Anne said, shaking her head. “That was dumb.”

His father chuckled and Hank’s eyes snapped up to his mother’s in confusion. “Why? I’m trying to help her. I want to help her.”

Anne shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. “It’s like you were raised by wolves instead of me.”

“I am so confused,” Hank said.

“It’s okay, son,” Mick said. “You’re still single. There’s a certain amount of leeway for your kind.”

“Is that coffee in your cups?” he asked, leaning over. “Maybe you’ve both been drinking.”

“Hank,” his mother said. “Sophie grew up with an alcoholic and violent father. Her mother had no choice but to work and take on the role of provider, so she was rarely there. Who do you think that left to run things? Who do you think took care of her sister, or did grocery shopping, or paid bills? She was a teenager who had to grow up much too quickly. That kind of fortitude and independence isn’t going to just go away because you came along and offered to save her bookstore.”

“No, I get that,” Hank said. “Mitch was abusive?”

“I know he was to Maggie,” Anne said. “I saw the bruises on her. I can’t tell you for sure about the girls, but my guess is that if Maggie wasn’t there then they’d be the most likely target.”

“She’s got a lot of hurt and pride inside her,” Hank said softly. “I could see that this morning when she was reading me the riot act. And again tonight when I had to force her into the truck when she was too sick to hardly stand up.”

“Do you care for Sophie?” his mother asked.

“I do,” he said. “It’s weird, isn’t it? We’ve been in the same town for a number of years, only saying a number of words to each other. But I’m drawn to her. I can’t explain it.”

“Darling, you don’t have to explain it,” Anne said, gripping his hand tighter. “And I understand you better than you think I do. What I will tell you is that Sophie needs to trust you. She’s never had to rely on anyone but herself. That makes her strong. And that’s an admirable trait. But it’s also going to make it hard for her to receive the love you have to give her.”

“I never said anything about love,” Hank said.

“You don’t have to,” Anne said. “You’re already halfway there. The other half will come when you go through the fire together. That’s where strength and real love is forged in a relationship. But where you’re at is a good place to start.”

“So you think she’s going to refuse my help?” he asked. “She maybe has another month tops before the city shuts her down. They want that land for themselves, and they’ll be able to take it once they condemn the property. It’s in a premium location. I’m in a position where I can pay cash for it now and do a direct buy with the owner.”

“Did you explain all that to her?” Mick asked.

“She didn’t really give me the chance to get into it,” Hank said. “And now she’s sick with the flu.”

“Who’s going to run the store for her?” Anne asked.

“She’s got a couple of employees,” Hank said.

“This seems like a great time to show Sophie what Laurel Valley is all about,” Anne said. “Why don’t you worry about taking care of Sophie. And let me worry about the rest.”

“You have that look in your eyes. Suddenly I’m very nervous,” Hank said, pushing back from the island.

“Now you’re learning,” Mick said.