Home to Hope Mountain. Joan KilbyЧитать онлайн книгу.
in front of him.
Adam slammed on the brakes and swore under his breath. “I saw her. Did she see me?”
The blonde woman on the dapple gray hauled on the reins, struggling to control the fiery horse. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. My horse has some issues.”
Adam stuck his head out the window, his heart still racing. He’d damn near run her down and the shock of it made him rude when he wouldn’t normally be. “Looks to me like you’re the one with the problem.”
Her cheeks flushed and her full mouth set as she straightened her Akubra hat atop her fraying braid. The horse danced and sidestepped on the gravel shoulder until the woman dug her heels into its heaving sides, and they both plunged back into the woods.
“Who the hell was that?” Adam wondered aloud as he drove off. He glanced into the forest, but the woman and her horse had already disappeared.
“Our neighbor, Hayley Someone.” Summer pressed her nose to the window and gazed longingly after the horse.
“Hayley Someone needs to learn to ride.” Adam gripped the wheel with both hands and scanned the road ahead for runaway horses.
“If she couldn’t ride, she would’ve fallen off when her horse reared,” Summer said. “She and her husband used to give trail rides. Mum’s been on them. But Hayley’s husband died in the bushfires, so I don’t know if Hayley’s still doing the rides.” She paused. “Did you see scars all down her horse’s neck? I wonder if that was from the fire?”
“Could be, I suppose.” Adam had too much on his plate to be distracted by the locals. After he dropped off Summer at school he was heading into the city to meet with the Shanghai delegation about the development project the architecture firm he worked for was bidding on.
“Dad?” Summer turned to him. “I want another horse.”
“We’re not talking about this now, sweetheart. I told you I’d think about it.” She’d been after him all weekend—horse, horse, horse—till he thought he’d go mad.
“Huh.” Summer readjusted her earbuds and slouched down in her seat, allowing him to spend the rest of the twenty-minute drive going over his presentation in his mind.
Adam pulled up in front of the high school and let the car idle while Summer gathered her backpack. “Can you get the bus back to the house after school?”
“I do all the time.” Summer got out of the car.
He’d only been in Hope Mountain since Friday and wasn’t familiar with her routine. “Okay, well, do you have your key? An umbrella in case it rains?”
“I’ll be fine.” She poked her head back in through the open door, her red hair swinging. “So, have you thought about it?”
“About what?” Adam glanced at his watch. He should have been on the road to Melbourne by now. The team from Shanghai was arriving at 10:00 a.m.
“Me getting another horse.”
“You only asked me fifteen minutes ago.” He shouldn’t have promised to think about it when he had no intention of getting her one. “I’m sorry, Summer, but the answer has to be no.”
“Why?”
He honestly felt badly for his daughter—her horse, Bailey, had died in the bushfires that had swept through the area nearly a year ago. But he had to stand firm. “It’s not a good time.”
“Why, just because you say so? I’m supposed to accept that?”
He tugged at a lock of her hair in a vain attempt to wipe the scowl off her face. “Who’s this sullen teenager and what have you done with my sweet-natured daughter?”
She didn’t crack a smile. “Please, Dad, not another one of your stupid jokes.”
“Hmm, tough audience.” Being a single father was tough, too—much more difficult than he’d expected, and he’d only been at it a couple of days. Reiterating his primary reason, that he wanted to put the house up for sale at the end of the year, would only spark another argument. “Everything’s up in the air. We’ll talk about it later.”
“You always say that.”
“Honey, I have to go to work—”
“You and your work. I guess it’s more important than me!” She slammed the car door.
“Summer! Don’t leave like that.”
She was already halfway up the path to the school. Her friend Zoe, a tall dark-haired girl, was waiting for her, no doubt with a ready ear for Summer’s tale of hardship.
Adam sighed and put his car into gear, easing out of the drop-off zone and onto the street. He drove slowly through the three-block-long commercial end of tiny Hope Mountain.
Sun broke fitfully through the clouds above the mountains enclosing the narrow valley. Trees lining the wide street were budding, and daffodils were springing up in newly planted flower beds. The setting was picture-postcard pretty.
But Hope Mountain was far from idyllic.
The entire mountainside to his left was black and ruined. The remains of burned trees looked like giant charred toothpicks. The community center had burned to the ground, along with the pub, a church and half the businesses on Main Street, leaving empty, barren lots. In the public gardens a huge tent had been set up to distribute donated household goods to people who’d lost everything.
Near the rose garden workmen were erecting a memorial to the people who’d died—nearly two hundred souls. Did they really need such a reminder when the evidence was all around that Hope Mountain was in a region of high fire danger?
The place had been nearly wiped off the face of the map, yet the sounds of nail guns and saws rang out in the clear mountain air, as the townsfolk were determined to rebuild.
More fool them.
The narrow winding road out of town led down the mountain, through more burned-out forest. Twenty miles later, at Healesville, he took the turnoff to Melbourne. Only as he accelerated onto the freeway entrance and set course for the city did he breathe easily.
Three hours later he was wrapping up his presentation to the delegation from Shanghai. Lorraine, his boss, was seated at the end of the boardroom table along with five men and one woman, all in identical gray suits.
“Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our firm’s vision of the luxury high-rise apartments in the Changning district of Shanghai,” Adam said. “Please, take all the time you need to review our brochure. I’m available to answer your—” he broke off as his phone vibrated inside his pants pocket “—questions any time.”
The damn phone had rung five times in the past half hour. He’d ignored it until now, but it wouldn’t stop.
“Excuse me. I’ll just be a moment.” He threw Lorraine an apologetic glance and hurried out of the room. Shutting the door, he answered his phone. “Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Banks? This is Tom Dorian, the principal of Summer’s school.”
“What’s wrong? Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s fine. Well, not fine, but...I’d like you to come in. She’s been caught shoplifting.”
“Shoplifting? Summer?” He barked out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not possible.”
“She was caught red-handed by the owner of the shop.”
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. This couldn’t be happening. And yet it was. Did he even know his daughter anymore? “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
An hour later, the company helicopter set down on the rain-wet grass of the high school football field. Adam ducked beneath the whirring rotors, his long stride breaking into a jog as he neared the front doors of the school.