Home to Hope Mountain

Adam smiled. “Two bags for me. Two for a friend.”

“Sweet on her, are ya?” Belinda winked at him.

He chuckled. Not likely.

“If you ask me,” Belinda went on. “The government should buy us all out and bulldoze the town. Everyone should move someplace where the firefighters have a chance to put out the fire and where residents can get out safely. There’s only one road in and out of this place. It was cut off in three spots. People were trapped.”

“But there were warnings of extreme fire danger,” Adam said. “People should have left earlier.”

“Maybe so. But folks have a legal right to stay and defend their property.” Belinda stacked the last grocery bag in the cart and rang up the total. “That’ll be one hundred and fifty-five dollars and twenty-eight cents. Any cash out?”

Adam handed over his credit card, then checked his wallet. He had only sixty dollars on him. “I’ll have an extra hundred, thanks.”

She rang it through and passed him two fifty-dollar bills. Adam dropped them both into the bushfire rebuilding donation jar on the counter. “I can’t believe the town is relying on spare change to fund a new community center.”

“There’s a long list of stuff that needs replacing. The primary school, the maternal health clinic, half the police station...” Belinda shrugged. “It’s all going to take time, I guess. They have to start somewhere.”

He threw in another fifty from his wallet, leaving himself ten dollars.

Belinda’s eyes widened. “Thanks, er...”

“Adam.” He gathered up his bags. “Nice to meet you, Belinda.”

“Same.” She grinned widely. “See you around.”

“I hope not.” When she looked surprised, he added, “If I don’t, it’ll mean you sold your house and got out.”

Belinda laughed and cocked a finger at him. “Gotcha.”

Adam piled the groceries into the car and continued on down the main street, brooding on the state of the town. Nine months on there was still the faint whiff of burned wood in the air. Or was that his imagination?

He wasn’t a coward, dammit. People like him and Belinda were being sensible. Why didn’t more townsfolk cut their losses and start new lives elsewhere?

Spying the real estate office, he parked out front and went inside.

A balding man with a perfectly pressed dark suit and a white smile rose from behind a desk, buttoning his jacket. He held out a hand. “G’day. Mort Brooks. What can I do for you?”

“Adam Banks. I live out of town at a place called Timbertop. Diane Banks is my ex-wife. I believe she used to work for you.”

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Mort said. “I was sorry Diane had to leave. Although business isn’t exactly booming so it’s probably for the best. How is she? How’s her mother doing?”

Seemed like the whole town knew your business if you spent any amount of time in the place. To be fair, Mort genuinely seemed to care, and that was kind of nice. “As well as can be expected. She hasn’t had the operation yet.”

“If you talk to her, tell her I said hey.”

“Will do.” Adam glanced around the empty office. “Diane doesn’t plan on returning to Hope Mountain, and I don’t intend to stay long. I’d like to have Timbertop valued and put up for sale this summer.”

Mort’s smile dimmed. “You and a hundred other folks in the area. Nothing’s moving in this glutted market.”

“My place isn’t burned. It’s intact. Great location with views, horse stables and paddocks, five acres...” He trailed away as Mort, looking more like a funeral director than a Realtor, shook his head glumly.

“I’ll value it for you and I can put it on the market, no problem. But fantastic properties are going at bargain-basement prices. The question you have to ask yourself is—are you willing to take a bath on the place?”

Adam thought about it for all of five seconds. “I’ll take whatever I can get for it. It’ll be worthless to me if it burns to the ground.”

“Is it insured?” Mort asked.

“Yes, of course, but I wouldn’t rebuild.” He dragged a hand over the back of his neck. What if he was stuck with this white elephant? It wouldn’t hurt him too much financially, but the house was part of Diane’s divorce settlement and she would need another place to live. Morally speaking, he didn’t owe her another house, but he still felt responsible for her. And of course he was responsible for Summer.

Unless Summer could be persuaded to live with him.

He hadn’t realized until he’d come back to Hope Mountain just how much he missed his daughter and how nice it was to have her around, even in her black moods. They’d grown estranged over the past year and he wanted to reconnect. If she moved to Sydney with Diane he’d have an even harder time seeing her.

But she would stay with him if he kept Timbertop....

No way. The trees hadn’t suddenly grown asbestos bark.

Mort made a note in his day planner, a big book open on the desk. “I’ll come out next week and take photos. You never know. There are people picking up properties simply because they’re cheap. And there’s talk of a government buy-back scheme. You might qualify.”

“Can you time your visit during school hours? My daughter doesn’t know yet that I’m planning to sell.”

“No worries.”

No worries. He wished. Not telling Summer his intentions felt like a betrayal. Would she want to live with him after he sold the home she loved—even if he was doing it for her own good?

He drove back through town past the many construction sites. The townsfolk determined to rebuild were misguided. It was like building on a flood plain or in an earthquake zone. Just plain dumb. And yet people did it over and over again—that was how strongly they felt about a certain geographical location they called home.

A tiny part of him admired their resolve. Maybe he just wished he had a place that felt like home no matter what. Having a father in the armed forces, he’d been uprooted as a child more times than he could remember. The closest he’d come to a permanent home had been his grandparents’ farm. He and his brothers had spent most summers there with his mom while his dad was serving overseas.

Later, after he’d married, he and Diane had owned two houses in the city. Diane was into decorating, and they’d felt more like showrooms than homes. Give him a lived-in look any day. His apartment...well, he didn’t spend enough time there for it to look lived in.

Someday he would build his dream home. He’d designed it in his head many times, changing small details as he refined his ideas. It would be by the ocean, with a special place for him to put his drafting table. Mostly he worked on computers, but he still liked drawing by hand. The house would be filled with light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Bifold doors would open the house to the elements and let out onto a huge deck looking onto the water.

He pulled into the parking lot next to the distribution center and unloaded two bags of groceries. He carried them through the group of people milling in front of the counter. One half of the tent was given over to clothing, kitchenware and smaller items like books and even CDs. In the back were the major appliances. A man was trying to wrestle a fridge off a dolly and into place next to a washing machine.

Adam caught the eye of a fifty-something woman who was volunteering behind the counter. “Where do I put these?” he asked.

“I’ll take them.” She peered into one of the bags. “Meat, eggs, cheese... Fantastic. Thank you so much, er...?”

“Adam Banks. No big deal.” He nodded at the man with the fridge. “He looks like he could use a hand. Should I?”

“Oh, please do. There’s a whole truckload of heavy appliances to bring in. People have been so generous that some days we don’t have enough manpower to sort and store stuff.”

Adam thought of his own groceries growing warm in the trunk of his car. It wasn’t a hot day. How long could it take to unload a truck? The milk and meat would keep for an hour. Too bad about the ice cream. “How do I get back there?”

* * *

HAYLEY PARKED HER truck in the main street, on the diagonal, outside Molly’s Gift Shop Café. Shane sat up beside her in the passenger seat. He went everywhere with her, and she was especially glad of his moral support today. Sensing her discomfort, he put a paw on her leg and gave her a soulful look.

She ruffled the fur around his neck. “I’m okay, Shane. Just girding my loins, so to speak.”

Working with horses was what she did—lessons, trail rides, therapy. Selling postcards and pouring coffee was a big step backward, to the days before she’d found a way to make a living working with horses and being outdoors.

Being in town wouldn’t be so bad. At least there were the cheerful sounds of rebuilding going on. The clock tower in the middle of the main street had already been repaired and colorful petunias had been planted around its base. The pub on the corner was nearly ready to welcome locals back for counter meals and karaoke nights. It would be good for her to be around people more often.

“Hayley!” A petite brunette with shoulder-length curls rapped at her window. Jacinta, her best friend and the town librarian, motioned to her to roll down the window.

“What are you doing roaming the streets in the middle of the day?” Hayley got out of the truck and gave her friend a hug. As they moved to the sidewalk Shane bounded through the open door and sat at Hayley’s heel. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the library shushing someone?”

Jacinta laughed. “Between the resident poet holding forth every lunch hour and the book club ladies yakking, the place is pretty darn noisy.”

“Guess it’s a while since I’ve been to the library. I don’t have much time to read these days.”

“We haven’t caught up in ages.” Jacinta touched Hayley’s shoulder and lowered her voice. “You okay? Your eyes are all puffy. You haven’t been crying, have you?”

“Horses for Hope’s funding got cut.” Yesterday had been one long tear fest as she’d rung client after client, giving them the bad news. She’d told Dave she would treat him for free until funding came in from somewhere. He’d thanked her and refused, pointing out that she would need to get another job. She’d started to protest before realizing he was right.

She wasn’t even going to mention to Jacinta that her electricity had been cut off, too—a day earlier than threatened. Bastards. Well, she’d lived without power for a month in the immediate aftermath of the fires. She could manage again. Which reminded her: she needed to buy candles.

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Jacinta hugged her again. “I could go for an early lunch if you want to talk.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve got something I need to do.”

Jacinta saw the direction of her gaze, to Molly’s shop, and frowned. “You’re not going to move in with Leif’s folks?”

“No.” She noted the quickly hidden relief on her friend’s face. “Why don’t you like Molly and Rolf? They’re wonderful. I’m closer to them than to my own parents.”

“They’re great. I have nothing against them. It’s just that...” Jacinta rubbed Hayley’s arm soothingly. “I know you’re still grieving and everything, but I’d like to see you move on at some point.”

“I am moving on, really. Molly and Rolf are friends, not just my in-laws. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“Sure, but they keep you in the past.”

“I’m not going to cut them off.” They were practically the only people she saw regularly these days.

“Hey, I have a date on Friday with Jeremy, a pharmacist from Healesville. Do you want me to see if he has a friend?”

“Thanks, no. I’m good.”

“Hayley, you never get out anymore,” Jacinta accused. “You’re in danger of turning into a crazy horse lady, sitting home cleaning your bridles and knitting pullovers.”

“I’ll call you soon.” Hayley eased away from Jacinta, toward the Gift Shop Café. “We’ll get drunk and dance with cowboys.”

Grinning, Jacinta pointed a finger. “One of these days we are so going to do that.”

Dancing with cowboys in bars had been a joke between them since high school. Jacinta was an academic type and would sooner ride a bucking bronco than date a cowboy. And Hayley had been with Leif since graduation. Party girls they were not. But they’d never worried about it, being content with their lives. Now, as they closed in on their mid-thirties and Jacinta was still single and Hayley newly so, the joke seemed a tad less funny.

Hayley waved goodbye, then braced herself to go inside. She couldn’t dwell on the past. She had to look to the future. She was alive and healthy and determined to write her own story, not give up or blame fate for her misfortune. And how could she complain when she had a job she could just walk into for the asking?

“Sit, Shane.” The dog sat obediently. “Stay.”

Hayley took a deep breath and entered, setting the bell over the door jangling. To the right was the café with a meal counter, tables along the window and a small kitchen out the back. On the opposite side was the gift shop selling local handicrafts, paintings and Australiana. The place was empty except for Molly, who was behind the counter putting price stickers on koala key rings.

Molly glanced up at the bell and her round face brightened. “’Morning, Hayley. So nice of you to stop by.”

Hayley returned her mother-in-law’s warm smile. Truly, she had more blessings to count than things to complain about. “I’d like to accept your offer of a job, after all.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Molly leaned over the counter and gave her a hug, scattering the key rings.

They got coffee and sat in the café and talked about the job. Molly was terrific, telling Hayley she could have as many or as few hours as she wanted, making Hayley wonder if she really needed help or if this was a form of charity. But she couldn’t afford to be proud, so together they worked out a schedule that suited both of them.

“It’s a darn shame about the Horses for Hope program,” Molly said for the twentieth time, as Hayley prepared to leave.

“It is what it is.” Hayley shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.” She’d racked her brain all night on possible sources of funding and had come up with nothing but a headache. “Thanks again. I’ll see you Wednesday morning.”

Molly walked her to the door. “I’m so glad we’ll get to spend more time together. Ever since Leif...Well, it isn’t the same without you around. At least with you, Rolf and I can talk about our boy and remember all the good times we had.”

“Yeah.” Hayley’s smile faltered. Maybe Jacinta had a point. Sometimes with Molly and Rolf, she felt as though she was living in the past. She’d loved Leif and wanted to honor his memory, but some memories hurt.

Occasionally, in the morning before she was fully awake, she would forget what had happened and reach for him only to find the other side of the bed cold and bare. She’d open her eyes and see the roller door and the tools hanging on the walls, and reality would crash in on her. All that kept her going some days was her and Leif’s dream of building a full-time dude ranch. She loved the horse therapy, but she’d held that other dream so long it would feel like failure if she didn’t carry it out.

“Stay for lunch?” Molly said. “I made Thai green curry for today’s special.”

“Tempting, but I can’t. I’ve got another stop to make this afternoon.” If she wanted to keep her dream alive, she had to swallow her pride and take care of her horses. Simple as that. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

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