Dana Mentink - Final Resort

She caught the sound of a set of boots crunching down the road. Uncle Paul appeared, wild black hair threaded with silver curling from under his red knit cap. He saw her and waved, looking around carefully before he marched down the slope to meet her.

He clasped her in a bear hug, cold cheek pressed to hers. “Avy, honey. You get more gorgeous every time I see you.” He pulled away to look into her face. “It’s those blue eyes. Like perfect lapis lazuli. Remind me of a set of stones I picked up in Myanmar.”

She could not resist the flattery and bestowed a kiss on his cheek. “All right. It’s only been a couple of months since we were together, so you don’t need to go overboard. I didn’t even know you were back in California.” She looked for her uncle’s ever-present shadow. “Where’s Mack Dog?”

“In the truck.”

Uncle Paul pointed to the top of the hill. She could just make out a glimmer of his dented pickup.

“He’s getting old now. Doesn’t like snow in his paws.” He sighed. “Me, too, getting old. Been thinking about a lot of things lately.”

The edge of melancholy in his words was so unlike him. “Where have you been? Why did you want to meet me?” She shivered and pulled her scarf tighter. “If you’re going to try to talk me out of selling the place, it won’t work. I’ve been the legal owner since I turned twenty-five two years ago.”

“Yes, I am, but not for the reason you think.” His eyes flickered over the frozen lake below them. He sighed, long and low, a sound so mournful that Ava felt a sudden twinge of dread.

“We don’t have any choice but to sell it,” she began, readying for yet another argument. “Dad thinks so, too.” Her father had thought so for years and hadn’t been shy about his opinions. She wished he was here now, but the winters were too harsh for a paraplegic in his condition.

He cut her off with a wave of his mittened hand.

“Ava, I know I messed up. Your mother left this place to us, and I took advantage. I blew it. Took money out figuring I could make it back and then some, but I never did.”

She hated the tone of defeat in her uncle’s voice. “You meant no harm. I know that.”

He shook his head, sending a sprinkling of snow loose into the air that mingled with the flakes just starting to fall. “In my mind I knew I could make Whisper sparkle by the time you were old enough to take the reins, to bring it back to the days when there were people all over the mountain and wagon rides and campfires at midnight. You remember?”

“I remember.”

“I know I was a wedge between your father and mother. Maybe if I’d stayed away, been more responsible, things would have turned out differently.”

“My father would still be disabled from the wreck, and Mom would still have given up.” She heard the bitter edge in her own words.

Uncle Paul heard it, too. The lines around his mouth deepened.

He flicked a glance toward the ridge above them where clouds massed in fantastic formation. “This time I really found it.” He moved closer and took her by the shoulders. “As soon as I get it authenticated, we’re going to have enough money to save Whisper Mountain with plenty left over.”

Ava knew enough not to feed into her uncle’s pie-in-the-sky notions. Even though she was barely twenty-seven, she had to be the mature voice of reason. “Whatever you think you’ve found, leave it where it is. I’m selling. I’ve got no choice.”

He looked behind them at the stretch of road that meandered up to the top of the next hill separating Whisper Mountain from Gold Summit, immediately to the west of them. A lacy curtain of snow had begun to fall, the flakes blown around them by a frigid wind.

“Why did we have to meet here?” she demanded again.

He shrugged, but she thought she saw a shimmer of fear in his eyes. “Proper thing, to tell you here that Whisper Mountain is saved. I come here to pray all the time and you used to, didn’t you, Ave? Do you still come?”

She shook her head. “Not anymore.” Whisper Mountain was a place dead to her, buried in the past. The only reason she’d returned from Westbow was to sell it. Snow settled onto her lashes and she brushed it away.

She’d lost too much because of her mother’s suicide ten years before. Ava’s own life would forever be bisected by her mother’s decision, into the time when she had been a normal, happy teen and after, when the world became an uncertain place. The source of her pain was right here on this piece of snow-covered world, and she was finally going to let it go.

“Uncle Paul, tell me—” she broke off as he started visibly, body tense.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” she said, trying to pinpoint the source of his concern.

“I thought I heard Mack Dog. He must have gotten out and gone wandering again.”

They both stood motionless, listening. The sound of an engine floated through the air and a snowmobile appeared at the bottom of the slope.

Paul’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Who is that?” she asked.

The snowmobile took off in their direction, gaining speed as it went. Ava stood frozen as it barreled toward them. Surely, the driver would stop, slow down as he approached.

He didn’t. Incredibly, he seemed only to increase his speed. Paul shoved Ava away. “Get in the car.”

“Wait,” she screamed as Paul took off heading for the trees.

The snowmobile roared closer, changing course to target Uncle Paul.

“Get away, Ava,” Uncle Paul yelled over his shoulder. “Get away now.”

* * *

Luca looked over the pristine slope, skis poised to begin the descent. He could not keep from turning his gaze to the valley down below, ringed with hills. He remembered his high school winter breaks spent skiing here. His heart replayed the memory of the young woman who was so at home on the snow she seemed to fly over it, like a hawk skimming over the crystal world below. He was proficient on skis but never as good as she was, not even close. He wondered if she ever visited here, now that her property was closed up. Everything had changed her senior year after the car accident crippled her father and her mother committed suicide six months later.

“Hey, there,” Stephanie said softly. “Lost in thought?”

He avoided looking at his sister. Even though he was elated that she and her high school sweetheart, Tate, had reunited in the course of their last treasure hunt, the happiness that shone on her face reminded him that he had just ended things with a woman he’d dated casually. There was no spark there, no spring of devotion like he’d seen in the eyes of his sister when she talked about Tate. “No, just remembering how good the runs were on Whisper Mountain.”

She didn’t answer, pushing a strand of her short dark hair back under her ski cap, gazing into the distance at the empty slopes. “It’s a prime piece of real estate. Do you think Dad will buy it?”

He nodded. “I think he’d be a fool not to. Anyway, let’s get some slope time before Victor lines up our new mission.” Victor was the eldest Gage sibling and recently married in a double wedding along with Tate and Stephanie. It was fitting, as their last job at Treasure Seekers had turned up an eighteen-million-dollar violin and nearly gotten them all killed at the hands of a psychopath. They were all due for some good times.

Stephanie shivered, and he knew she was reliving the memories of their near escape, too. “Let’s get back. Tate’s probably missing us.”

Luca grinned. “Missing you. We’re still not best buds.”

“That’s because you’re both stubborn gorillas.”

“True, but he’s your stubborn gorilla now, and he looks at you like he can’t believe you’re really his.”