Home to Hope Mountain. Joan Kilby

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СКАЧАТЬ husband’s death was tragic and he felt for her, but surely she didn’t hold him responsible for her loss. He hadn’t even been in Hope Mountain the day of the bushfires.

      Adam walked over and plucked the bud from one ear. “I’m seriously considering dismantling this thing one night while you sleep.”

      Summer yelped and sat up. “You wouldn’t dare.”

      “Don’t test me.”

      “Give it back.” She made a swipe for the earbud.

      He held it out of reach. “Turn this off and give me a hand with dinner, please.”

      She looked as though she was going to protest, then gave in. “Fine.”

      Back in the kitchen Adam passed her a head of broccoli. “Chop.”

      Summer picked up the chef’s knife and whacked off the base of the stem. “I don’t like broccoli.”

      “I’m not crazy about it, either, but it’s nutritious and it’s the only fresh vegetable in the fridge.” He watched her shuttered face as she hacked inexpertly at the broccoli. He needed to talk to her, but it was hard to begin, to find the right tone.

      “What’s going on with you, Summer?” As soon as he spoke, he knew he’d gotten it wrong.

      “Nothing.”

      Doggedly, he persisted. “I called a couple of therapists this afternoon. Everyone in the area is booked.”

      “I don’t need therapy.”

      He realized he couldn’t strike the right note because he was furious. And worried to death, and afraid for Summer’s immediate future, and deeply disappointed—yes, all that. But also very, very angry. At himself and Diane for dropping the ball, at the bushfires for causing his family and the community grief, but right this minute, mostly at Summer for her sullen attitude.

      “So, lying and stealing are perfectly normal for you?”

      She tossed the chopped vegetable in the pot, not deigning to answer.

      He reigned in his temper best he could. “Here’s what I think should happen. Until your mother gets back—”

      “When will that be?”

      “A month, maybe longer. Till then we stay at my apartment, enroll you in a city school and get you a counselor. I could continue to work—”

      “I thought you were taking a leave of absence.”

      “I called Lorraine this afternoon and she agreed I could take time off, but she’s not happy. I’d really prefer to finish the project I started, but I’d still cut back my hours. It makes sense rather than stay here.”

      “Not to me! The school year’s almost over. Plus the bushfire memorial service and dance is in a few weeks. I don’t want to leave Zoe and my other friends. I don’t know anyone in the city.” She slashed the knife down hard on the cutting board. “I’m not going.”

      “Summer,” he warned, “careful with that knife.”

      “Why, are you afraid of what I might do?” With a smile that chilled him she deliberately stuck the point of the knife on her wrist and pressed.

      She was bluffing, she had to be.... He watched the flesh dip beneath the cold steel. Another fraction of an inch and it would pierce the skin. Adam snatched the knife from her. All his anger drained away. “You’re scaring me.”

      Her smile faded and she dropped her gaze. “Sorry,” she whispered. “That was stupid.”

      Adam went around the kitchen block and took her in his arms. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” With her face pressed against his chest she shook her head. “Promise?”

      “I promise.” She looked up at him, tear tracks on her cheeks. “Don’t make me leave Hope Mountain.”

      “This isn’t a safe environment, sweetheart. Living in the forest is like living inside a giant stack of kindling laid for a campfire. All that’s needed is a lightning strike, and these tinder-dry woods would go up in flames.”

      “It’s been raining for weeks. The woods are hardly tinder-dry.”

      “They’ll get that way come summer.” He brushed strands of flaming hair off her forehead. “What do you call a ninja with red hair?”

      “A ginga. That’s so lame and you’ve told it a million times. Come on, Dad, promise not to make me leave here. Please?”

      It would probably be a mistake to pull her out of school and add to whatever trauma she was going through. There were only three months till the end of the school year.

      “I can’t promise you’ll stay here forever. But, okay, at least until school’s out.” Before she could continue the argument he patted her on the shoulder. “We have no sugar for the sauce, so it looks like we’re eating our lamb chops plain.”

      “Ugh. I hate plain chops. Is there at least ketchup?”

      “I didn’t see any. I could go to the grocery store.” He was so relieved at hearing normal, kid-type complaining he was willing to make the trip for one item.

      “It closes at five on Monday.”

      He glanced at the clock—ten to five. Living out in the boonies was nuts. If he was at his Melbourne apartment an elevator ride would take him to street level and a twenty-four-hour convenience store ten yards away.

      “In that case, it looks like another night of Diet Turkey Delight....”

      Summer made a face, and he had to agree: the thought was unappetizing.

      Unless he became a terrible cliché and borrowed a cup of sugar from their neighbor. Ordinarily he wouldn’t hesitate, but Hayley hadn’t exactly put out the welcome mat. She wasn’t bad-looking with all that honey-blond hair and those big blue eyes. Her long legs were shapely even in dusty blue jeans. But she was extremely prickly.

      Mind you, she had serious problems, like the fact that she was living in her garage. Maybe he’d simply caught her at a bad time. Yes, that could be it. If he gave her another opportunity to treat Summer, she might accept. He’d learned in his long career of negotiating not to give up—if at first you don’t get the outcome you want, give your opponent another chance to say yes.

      Not that Hayley was his opponent. But she did have something he needed—the ability to heal his daughter. If she got to know him and saw he wasn’t the bad guy, she might relent.

      He looked through the kitchen window, past the manicured lawn and the gum trees ringing the gravel parking area to the horse paddock. He had something Hayley needed, too. The grass hadn’t been grazed for nearly twelve months and was knee-high. Sure, she’d said her program was full, but she could no doubt find another hour in her week—if she wanted to.

      Hayley didn’t seem like the kind of woman he could charm into acceding to his wishes, which suited him fine. This was business. He prefered straight dealing. He had the sense that she СКАЧАТЬ