Hummingbird Lake

SIX





February

Shortly before seven following yet another bad night, Sage washed red and black paint from her brushes and sighed. Maybe she should throw in the towel and go back on sleep meds. Maybe they wouldn’t affect her so badly this time.

She tidied her studio, then dragged herself to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She’d make chamomile tea. Maybe break her rule about no daytime naps. Why the heck not? Staying awake wasn’t helping at all.

She’d just flipped on the gas burner beneath her teakettle when her phone rang. Her stomach sank. Nobody called this early—except for Rose. Her sister had called three more times since reaching out that first time when Sage had been in Texas. The calls all had been awkward, strained, and strange. Sage simply wasn’t ready to tackle that relationship tiger, though she had made an effort herself by calling on Christmas.

Checking caller ID, she saw Celeste Blessing’s name and number. Relieved, she lifted the receiver to her ear and forced a brisk, energetic tone. “Good morning, Celeste.”

“Is it?” her friend answered. The comment caught Sage off guard, but before she could frame a response, Celeste continued, “We are on our way with yogurt, granola, fruit, and fresh bread still warm from the oven. Put on a pot of coffee, would you, please? We’ll be at the door in ten minutes.”

The phone clicked and the dial tone sounded in Sage’s ear. Lowering the receiver, she scowled at it. What in the world was this all about? She hadn’t forgotten a meeting, had she?

Ten minutes gave her just enough to time to take a speed shower, pull on jeans and a sweatshirt, get the coffee brewing, and fortify herself with half a cup of tea. She heard a car pull into the drive as she stored her latest painting out of sight. Sage grabbed a hairbrush and tried to tame the tangles in her hair as she headed to the front of the cottage, where through the plate glass window she spied not only Celeste Blessing but Nic Callahan, Sarah Reese, and Ali Timberlake, too.

Her core group of friends presenting themselves at her doorstep uninvited? And why was Ali in Eternity Springs on a snowy Tuesday morning? This couldn’t be good.

Sage pasted on a smile as she flipped the lock and opened the door. Frigid air rushed in. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?”

Sarah Reese took one look at Sage, then spoke to Celeste. “You were right. She looks terrible.”

“Well,” Sage said as the women filed through the door into the gallery. “Aren’t you just full of friendship this morning?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Sarah disdainfully wrinkled her little nose and held up a white paper sack. “In addition to the healthy stuff, I’ve brought cinnamon rolls.”

Sage shifted her gaze to Nic, who was studying her worriedly. Ali Timberlake gave her a tentative smile and asked, “Shall we go to the kitchen?”

Officially out of sorts at this point, Sage murmured, “Can I stop you?”

“Nope.” Sarah flashed a smile that had more teeth than was friendly. “This is an intervention.”

An intervention? Sage closed her eyes. Wonderful. Just flippin’ wonderful.

“Yeah, an intervention. Ali’s made a special trip for it.”

Ali smiled reassuringly. Sage sighed and followed her friends to the kitchen. Celeste’s brow knitted in a frown. “It’s freezing in here.”

“The heater can’t keep up. I’m having a new system installed, but Jimmy Turnage is backed up. No telling when he’ll get around to me.” Since her table only seated four, Sage grabbed her work stool from her studio, placed it at the table, and snagged the first cinnamon roll out of the sack. She took a bite of the sinfully sweet roll, savored the taste for a moment, then faced the proverbial music. “So, dare I ask why you concluded that an interference—”

“Intervention,” Sarah corrected.

“—was appropriate? What, you found out about my dark chocolate M&M habit?”

“Dark chocolate is good for you.” Celeste smiled her thanks to Sarah as she served them all a mug of fresh, steaming coffee, then continued, “Actually, sweetheart, a guardian angel whispered in my ear that your light was on most of the night again. As your friends, we are concerned.”

A guardian angel? More likely somebody up for a midnight snack. Although Sage’s cottage was isolated from town, her lights shone like a lighthouse beacon across Hummingbird Lake, especially in the off-season, when hers was one of the few occupied lakeside residences.

“You’ve lost weight, and there’s not a makeup on the market good enough to cover the dark circles beneath your eyes,” Nic added, snagging a carton of strawberry yogurt and a spoon from the center of the table. She crossed her legs, gave her blond ponytail a toss, and settled back in her chair. “Believe me, I know. Since the twins were born, I’ve tried every combination of foundation and cover-up out there.”

Ali selected a banana while gazing longingly at the cinnamon rolls. “The girls tell me you haven’t come to quilt group since before Thanksgiving, Sage. That’s not like you.”

Even as Sage opened her mouth to defend herself, Sarah went in for the kill. “Most telling of all, you haven’t said word one about your gallery showing in Texas. You’ve gone out of your way to change the subject or ignore the question when someone asks about it. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

Nic touched her forearm and asked, “What happened in Texas, Sage?”

“It was a man, wasn’t it?” Sarah asked. “Who was he? What did he do? Did he hurt you, Sage?”

Nic set down her yogurt. “Honey, are you pregnant?”

At that, a laugh burst from Sage’s mouth. She understood why Nic’s thoughts would go there. A year ago Nic had had her own Christmas season soiree and ended up the mother of twins. “I wasn’t hurt or impregnated. Nothing bad happened.”

“Then what happened, dear?” Celeste asked. “You haven’t been yourself since you came back from your show. Is it career-related trouble?”

“No.” Sage recognized that concern, not nosiness, lay behind her friends’ questions. While she appreciated that they cared, she had no intention of sharing the full story. She’d never told anyone the entire nightmare—not her colleagues, not her therapist, not even her sister. She simply couldn’t.

So she gave them what she could. “But you’re right, I haven’t been myself. My sleep cycle is all out of whack and I’m not sleeping well. When I do sleep I have horrible dreams, and that exacerbates the problem. I’ll get back to normal eventually, but in the meantime …” Sage shrugged. “I’m cranky.”

“Can’t you take pills to help you sleep?” Sarah asked.

“I could. I don’t want to go down that road if I can avoid it. In the past, they’ve turned my nightmares into Nightmares.”

“Is there anything we can do to help you?” Sarah reached across the table and touched Sage’s arm. “We’re worried about you.”

As the others nodded their agreement, warmth washed through Sage. She loved these women. She truly did. “I’m okay. No need to worry. Just bear with me a bit. One of my sister’s favorite sayings is ‘This too shall pass,’ and I know that it is applicable in this case. I’ve been down this road before. I know what to expect.”

The others all shared a look, then Sarah asked Nic, “What do you think?”

Nic shrugged. “I’m a veterinarian, not a psychologist or a sleep specialist.”

“Or a man,” Celeste observed. “That’s what Sage needs. A good man. A good marriage.”

Amusement gleamed in Ali’s eyes. “Now there’s a thought, Celeste. Good sex does make a girl sleep like a baby.”

“True,” Nic agreed, smiling smugly.

“Now, that’s just rude.” Sarah turned to Sage and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of these giddily happy married women lording their sex lives over us.”

It was a running jest between them. Sage knew her friends were trying to lighten the mood.

“Yep. I don’t like it either.” Sage polished off her cinnamon roll, then licked her fingers while the others continued their banter. Just when she’d begun to hope that the intervention part of the morning was behind her, Sarah had to circle around to the topic once again. Darn her, the woman was a terrier.

“I hate that you’re having trouble sleeping,” Sarah said, “but I don’t think it’s a good excuse for you to go hermit on us. This isn’t like your bouts of creativity, Sage.” Gesturing toward the studio walls, she added, “I don’t see new paintings stacked up.”

That’s because I keep them hidden away. Sage couldn’t bring herself to destroy or paint over all of the nightmare canvases, but she couldn’t bear to look at them, either. No way was she going to make their existence public.

Rather than address the topic of paintings, she tossed a proverbial bone. “You’re right, Sarah. I’ll make an effort to get out more. Okay?”

“You’ll join us for the Patchwork Angels meeting next week?” Celeste asked. When Sage hesitated, she added, “Please, Sage. For me?”

Sage couldn’t say no to Celeste. “I will.”

“Promise?” Sarah folded her arms. “No convenient burst of I-must-paint-because-my-muse-demands-it?”

“I promise, Sarah. I’ll come to quilt group.”

After that, talk shifted to Nic’s babies and Sage gratefully concluded that the intervention had now eased into a coffee klatch. Relaxing, she sat back, sipped her tea, and told herself she’d get through this rough patch. After all, she had the dearest, most caring friends in the world on her side, along with the haven that was called Eternity Springs.

Still, a little sleep wouldn’t hurt.


Colt Rafferty held his breath as he reached the summit of Sinner’s Prayer Pass during the third week of February. The road was well maintained, but the switchbacks in winter were a heart attack waiting to happen. He hoped his tires held. He really hoped his brakes didn’t quit. When he hit an icy patch and skated toward the edge of the road—the edge of the mountain—he sent up a prayer and decided that whoever had named this pass certainly called it right.

Colt had made this drive dozens of times before, but never in the dead of winter. Never in ten-degree weather. Never with snow deep enough to swallow his rental SUV. This would be his first trip to Eternity Springs during the off-season. When his boss told him to go someplace to cool off, he couldn’t think of a more fitting place to go. As his back tires fishtailed, he muttered, “Hope that wasn’t my last fitting thought.”

Colt was coming off the most difficult stretch of weeks he’d experienced since coming to the CSB. Two horrific accidents, eighteen deaths that could have and should have been prevented, and a bureaucratic wall of red tape and politics that made him see red and, unfortunately, lose his temper.

Well, sliding off the road here on Sinner’s Prayer Pass would at least get him out of the lawsuit that was probably coming. He’d really screwed up when he threw that punch at the OSHA guy.

But dammit, he was sick to death of the agencies all working both sides against the middle, and he’d finally erupted. He’d just ended a phone call to Melody Slaughter in which he’d had to tell her that the chemical spill that had killed her husband and eleven others the previous week had been completely avoidable had the OSHA inspector done his job.

“I don’t know why I even try,” he muttered as he downshifted. What good were they doing, really? Only a small percentage of their recommendations ever made it into regulation. Only a percentage of those regulations were being followed in the field. “Why should they follow regulations when it’s easier to bribe an inspector instead?”

That was the piece of news he’d received that had led to the meeting that led to his blowup. Were there no good, honest people in the world anymore?

Yes, there were. That’s why he was headed to Eternity Springs.

Having been given two weeks of forced leave, he’d booked his flight to Colorado, and since his usual rental was closed for the winter, he’d called Celeste Blessing to arrange for a place to stay. He’d asked for one of the outlying cottages on the Angel’s Rest property, but after Celeste explained that a church group from Kansas had rented the entire facility for a week, she suggested alternative lodging that she believed would suit his needs perfectly. She’d volunteered to make all the arrangements for him and instructed him to stop by Angel’s Rest to pick up a key.

He couldn’t wait to get there. He’d flown to Denver last night, then headed into the mountains this morning. He’d added at least an hour and a half to the trip by stopping to admire the snowy vistas at least half a dozen times since entering the mountains. He was hungry, craving a strong cup of coffee, and nursing a strong sense of anticipation. He loved Eternity Springs, its people, and their small-town values.

Life wasn’t gentle in the mountain valley—especially not this time of year, he imagined—but in many ways, life was kinder there than elsewhere. People didn’t cut other people off in traffic in Eternity—there wasn’t any traffic. They weren’t rude to strangers, because the only strangers were tourists and tourists were the economic lifeblood of the area. And of special appeal to him, here people said what they meant and meant what they said. The only spinning done in Eternity Springs was done by skaters on Hummingbird Lake in winter. They damn sure wouldn’t take bribes and look the other way, putting lives at risk.

Finally he rounded the hairpin curve that offered the first sight of the little town nestled in the narrow valley. Once again he pulled to the side of the road and took a moment to soak in the view. “It’s a postcard,” he murmured. Gorgeous. Beautiful.

Special.

Mountains filled with evergreens and snow ringed the narrow valley with a small town nestled at its center. Unlike other times of year when nature painted a myriad of colors across the landscape, today white was the predominant color, with a spattering of blue, green, and yellow on the wood siding of the Victorian-era homes in the center of town. Smoke rose from redbrick chimneys, and he counted five snow-dusted church steeples reaching toward heaven. At the far end of town, Hummingbird Lake lay beneath a sheet of ice.

As Colt watched, the doors to the school opened and children came pouring out. He grinned like a kid himself as he pulled back onto the road and completed the final short leg of a long journey.

When he drove past the city limits sign, tension rolled off his shoulders and his spirits lifted. Coming here had been a good decision. The right decision. He’d always wanted to see this place in winter. And he had a score to settle with the redhead, too.

“Sage Anderson,” he said aloud. He’d thought about her off and on since their little tête-à-tête at the Fort Worth Water Gardens in December. Once he got over the shock of having the woman let loose with a bloodcurdling scream while he was kissing her, then being called out by the cops before he figured out what was wrong, he’d recognized that she’d provided him a big fat piece of the puzzle she presented.

Consider the circumstances. They’d been alone together in a dark outdoor venue. She’d gone from being enthusiastically responsive to scared to death in a heartbeat. That pointed to a flashback of some sort. He suspected the odds were pretty good that at some point in her past she’d been sexually molested or assaulted.

Some men were pigs. Some men were even worse. With any luck, during the next two weeks he’d have the opportunity to prove to her that he was one of the good guys.

Just another reason to be happy to be here in Eternity Springs.

He made his way down Cottonwood Street, then crossed the bridge over Angel Creek to Angel’s Rest, where he glanced with a sense of artistic pride at the sign he’d carved. Damn, but he did good work. During the design process he had envisioned it with snowdrift on the flat edges, but the reality of it looked even better than he’d imagined.

He continued up the drive to Cavanaugh House, the original structure at Angel’s Rest and the hub of the healing center. Parking his rental in the designated parking area, he was pleased on the town’s behalf to see so many other vehicles in the lot. He opened his door, took a deep breath of the clean, crisp mountain air, and smiled. How could fifteen-degree weather make him feel so warm?

His heart lighter than it had been in weeks, Colt walked up the front walk and climbed the porch steps. The small sign beside the doorbell read Welcome to Angel’s Rest. May your visit here be peaceful.

Colt stepped inside and was greeted by a teenage girl he recognized from his last visit. She’d worked at the local ice cream parlor. “Hey, Mr. Rafferty.”

“Hi … Elizabeth, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir. Ms. Blessing said I should expect you. She’s in the upstairs parlor, and she said to send you up after I present your special welcome gift.” She stepped from behind the desk and gestured toward the library. “If you’ll wait for a moment?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Colt went into the library and smiled at the collection of angel figurines decorating the fireplace mantel. Also new to the decor were a trio of framed historical photographs depicting scruffy-looking men in front of a mine shaft, St. Stephen’s church, and a view of the valley he recognized as having been taken from Murphy Mountain. He stepped closer and studied the men in front of the mine. Could these be the town’s founders? He tried to recall what he’d learned from visits to the local museum, where his mother had dragged her uninterested offspring who wanted nothing to do with learning on vacation days. Hadn’t there been three men in on that silver strike?

At that point he heard Elizabeth’s footsteps and he turned toward her to see her approach wearing a mischievous grin and carrying a bowl. “Don’t tell me. Is that …?”

“Taste of Texas rocky road,” she confirmed, handing him the bowl of ice cream. “Celeste loves it as much as you, so she laid in a supply.”

“The woman is an angel.”

“She says it’s never too cold for great ice cream.”

“A brilliant angel.”

Elizabeth laughed. “She’s waiting for you upstairs. Feel free to take your ice cream with you.”

Colt climbed the stairs and followed the sound of voices down the hall to the parlor. He paused in the doorway and grinned. Well, well, well. If it isn’t sweet, intriguing Sage. Isn’t this handy?

He savored another bite of ice cream, then said, “Good afternoon, ladies.”

Celeste looked up, and her face lit with a smile. “Colt! You made it. How was your trip?”

“Long,” he replied, looking expectantly toward the redhead, who wasn’t meeting his gaze. “Worth it, though, when I have such a delicious treat waiting for me at my destination.”

“The ice cream is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“That, too.”

Celeste smirked and said, “Colt, have you met my friend Sage Anderson? She is Eternity Springs’ artist in residence.”

“We met last fall at the grand opening, and …” He hesitated until she darted a wary look his way. So she’s kept quiet about seeing me in Texas. Interesting. Allowing his smile to warm, he added, “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Sage.”

She mumbled something and still didn’t meet his eyes. Her cheeks flushed with color that betrayed her embarrassment.

Celeste carried on as if she hadn’t noticed her friend’s lack of enthusiasm at his arrival. “I am trying to select a new painting for this parlor,” the older woman said. “Sage has brought me a lovely selection of Sage Anderson originals, but I’m afraid I’m having a horrible time making up my mind. Take a look at these, Colt. What do you think?”

She had placed five canvases against the near wall. Colt glanced at them, then at Sage, then back at the paintings again. These works were done in the same vein as the ones he’d seen in Fort Worth. He couldn’t help himself. He shrugged and repeated the comment he’d previously made: “They’re … nice.”

Then he took another bite of ice cream, giving the spoon a slow lick as he waited for her to react. He knew she’d remember the previous exchange, and he expected her to turn on him, scratching and hissing.

Instead, when she finally looked at him, he saw the sheen of tears in her gorgeous green eyes. Immediately he felt like an ass. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. He’d been teasing. Didn’t she know that?

Where was the woman whose eyes had shot fire at him in Texas?

“Thank you.” She dismissed him with a polite smile, then turned to Celeste. “I think the butterflies work best in this room, Celeste. Why don’t we hang it and let you live with it awhile? If you decide it doesn’t suit, we’ll switch it out for another one.”

“Yes, I like that idea.” Celeste beamed. “Thank you, dear. Colt, can you do the honors for me? You’ll find a hammer and nails downstairs in the kitchen drawer beside the refrigerator.”

“Sure. I’m on it.”

Actually, he was glad to escape the room. He needed a little time to think. How had he misread Sage Anderson so completely? He’d thought she liked to scrap and scrabble. Man, he couldn’t do anything right where that woman was concerned.

Then, because he was a tenacious man, as he descended the staircase he said to himself, “Guess you’ll just have to try harder.”

In the kitchen, he discovered the healing center’s director, Hunter Casey, pouring a cup of coffee. Colt understood that Celeste had lured Casey away from a facility in Southern California. The two men visited a few moments, and Colt congratulated him on Angel’s Rest’s at-capacity occupancy rate while he rinsed his now-empty dessert dish. When Elizabeth ducked in with a question for her boss, Colt made his way back upstairs with a tape measure, a hammer, and a couple of nails. He wasn’t entirely surprised to discover that Sage had bolted in the interim.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings,” Colt told Celeste.

“She’s not herself these days.”

“Oh? Why not?” He measured the spot and marked the wall with a pencil.

Celeste clucked her tongue. “I don’t like to gossip, but I’m quite concerned about her. Our Sage is in a dark place. I know she’s fought long and hard to escape it, but the solitary struggle is weighing her down. I think she needs help finding her way into the light.”

Colt placed the nail. A dark place? From what he’d seen, he couldn’t argue with that. “She’s living in the right town. Eternity Springs helped me when I was in a bad place.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “When was that?”

Colt rolled his shoulders, his way of acknowledging the scars that crisscrossed his back. “Back in high school, my best friend and I were working after school jobs at a furniture plant when combustible dust exploded. He was killed. I had some minor burns, but they healed fast enough. It was my head that gave me trouble.”

“You came to Eternity Springs?”

“Yep.” He hammered in the nail. “My dad helped me get a summer job at the Double R. I made my peace with the past and found my future up on a mountaintop that summer.”

“I see,” Celeste said as she handed Sage’s butterfly picture to Colt. “That’s why you studied engineering? Why you are working in Washington?”

Colt hung the painting, then got down from the step stool she’d provided. “It’s why I became an engineer. I’ll admit I’m not so sure why I’m working in Washington, but that’s another story.” Moving back, he studied the painting and said, “You know, the butterflies aren’t half bad.”

Celeste slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice, Colt Rafferty. Now, come with me and I’ll get you the keys and directions to your rental.”

As they made their way downstairs to the office, she explained that the place she had arranged for him was a cabin out at Hummingbird Lake, an eight-minute drive from the center of town. “You’re on Reflection Point, with only one other house near you. There are a couple of lovely trails out that way that are maintained during the winter for hiking and cross-country skiing. One of them goes up to Heartache Falls, which is one of the loveliest spots in the county. Do you skate?”

“I played hockey in college.”

“Excellent.” She patted his hand, and her eyes gleamed with a knowing light as she added, “You’re going to love it out there, Colt.”

He wondered about that look as he made his way to the Trading Post to stock up on groceries before heading out to the lake. Bells chimed as he walked inside, and he waved at Sarah Reese, who stood behind the cash register speaking with an elementary-school-age boy holding a white ball of fluff in his arms. “I’m sorry, Josh, but my answer is final. I don’t need a puppy. I have my hands full with Daisy and Duke.”

“But Miss Sarah …”

“Good-bye, Josh.”

Colt smiled as the downcast youngster departed the store, a dramatic pitch to his voice as he said, “It’s okay, puppy. I’ll find you a good forever home, no matter what.”

Colt loaded his cart with staples. He enjoyed cooking, though he rarely had time to do so, and he planned to indulge in that activity during the next two weeks. He added a couple more steaks to his buggy, thinking that maybe he’d invite the Callahans out to dinner. He and Nic had been friends a long time, and he really liked her husband, Gabe. Plus he had to see the twins. Nic’s Christmas card had said they were rolling over and trying to sit up. Then, picturing the teary-eyed redhead, he reached for the last rib eye in the meat case and murmured, “What the hell.”

He chatted with Sarah while she rang up his groceries and asked how Lori was doing. “She’s good. Anxious for college acceptance letters to begin arriving.”

“Where does she want to go?”

“Texas A&M. She wants to be a vet.”

“A vet, huh? What would she say about you turning down little Josh’s puppy?”

Sarah laughed. “After working as Nic’s vet assistant, she learned she can’t bring home every animal in need. Still, she does go gooey at puppies.”

“Most people do.”

“Do you want a dog?” Sarah’s lovely violet eyes gleamed with mischief. “I know where you can get one.”

“Nope. I’m a short-timer here, as always, and my condo in DC doesn’t allow pets, I’m afraid.”

“Sounds like you need a new place to live.”

Colt’s smile sobered a little at that. “You may be right, Sarah. It’s very possible that a new place to live might be exactly what I need.”

He pondered the question on the way out to the lake. His job entailed so much travel that he’d never thought it fair to keep a pet. Still, he’d always wanted to have a dog. A big dog, like a retriever or a boxer. Maybe someday.

Celeste’s directions to the house were spot-on, and when he made the final turn into the drive and saw the log cabin for the first time, he felt the last bit of tension inside him fade away. Thank God he wasn’t in Washington right now. Celeste was right. He was going to love it here.

The cabin was decorated in what he thought of as mountain traditional—wagon-wheel furniture, elk and moose heads on the walls, and a bearskin rug in front of a huge stone fireplace. The master bedroom had a fireplace also, along with a king-sized bed and a sliding door that opened onto a deck with a hot tub.

“Awesome.” A soak in the hot tub at the end of a day on the slopes had always been one of his favorite parts of skiing. And the stars in this part of the world were a sight to see. “Thank you, Celeste,” he murmured aloud. “Excellent job.”

He unloaded his car and put away the groceries, then lit a fire in the big stone hearth. He was careful and deliberate about the task, having witnessed some horrific results of carelessness over the years. As he watched the flames flicker and build, he told himself not to go there, not to think about his job at all.

He was burned out. Toast. He needed these two weeks to decompress, and he couldn’t do that if he thought about work all the time.

He watched the yellow flames dance in the hearth until a flash of light against the window snagged his attention. Headlights, he surmised. Guess his neighbor had arrived home.

Curious as always, he moved to the window, where he spied a Jeep idling in the drive next door while an automatic garage door opener did its thing. He cupped his hand against the window glass to better see inside the Jeep.

When he identified the driver, Colt pursed his lips and let out a slow whistle. Well now. He dragged his palm along his jawline and considered his choices.

He could leave her alone. Maybe he should leave her alone. But what was the fun in that? Glancing at the clock, he decided he’d give it half an hour. He’d let her settle in, and then he’d grab a measuring cup and go ask to borrow a clichéd cup of sugar—from his favorite redhead.