The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Terry

“Dad, look! There’s Miller Station!” Hannah’s excited voice blasted through the headset, making me wince.

I leaned across to try and catch a glimpse but all I saw was a sea of tussock and a milky blue river. “Where?”

“There!” She pointed to the far end of the valley where a tiny spot of red marked the roof of a building.

“You’ve got good eyes.” The chopper pilot shot Hannah a crooked smile. With his choppy blond locks and bright blue eyes, Luke Nichols had kept my daughter entertained the entire flight, spinning yarns about the Mackenzie Basin and the people who lived there, all perfectly gauged to grab the interest of an excited fourteen-year-old girl.

Hannah beamed at the praise while her service mobility dog, Gabby, who’d been ignored most of the flight, nudged her leg as if to say, Hey, don’t forget about me. I’d been quietly worried how well the four-year-old golden retriever would handle her first time in a helicopter, but she’d been pretty chill. However, she did have a tendency to sulk if Hannah’s attention rested elsewhere for any length of time, somehow managing to push her doggy bottom lip forward in as good a likeness of petulant annoyance as you could possibly get.

“Gabby’s pouting again,” I informed Hannah, and she immediately turned and kissed the end of Gabby’s nose.

“Aw, you know I love you best,” she reassured the dog, then returned her attention to the window where it had been fixed from the moment we’d left Christchurch Airport. Her distraction had allowed me to relinquish my dad hat and work on settling the herd of butterflies circling my belly. Left to me, Hannah and I would be finishing a lazy Sunday lunch back in Painted Bay while planning our regular Sunday afternoon movie-fest. We would not be perilously gallivanting far too high above the Canterbury plains.

Hannah spun and grabbed my hand, tugging me across to the middle seat. “You can see from here.” She pointed to a cluster of buildings far in the distance at the head of the narrow glacial valley. “That’s it.”

“Okay, okay.” I leaned over her shoulder and just... wow. My breath caught in my chest. After a few seconds, I blew out a low whistle. “Okay, I admit that’s pretty impressive.”

“See.” Hannah’s chest puffed. “I told you this was a great idea.”

“You did.” I pinched her waist and she jumped. “But I’m sure it would be just as impressive from a car... not to mention a lot easier on my heart.”

Luke snorted, and I was reminded that whatever was said into the headsets was heard by everyone.

“Even if our pilot is excellent,” I quickly added.

Luke glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Not a fan of flying?”

“Planes are fine,” I countered. “Flying in a tiny, noisy tin can with nothing but a sliver of metal between me and certain death? That’s a hell no.”

Luke laughed and Hannah rolled her eyes in that way teenage girls did, which told you exactly how hopeless you were. None of which meant I was wrong.

The whole idea for the helicopter transfer from Christchurch to Miller Station had been the unfortunate brainchild of my adventure-seeking parents who always tried to give Hannah an exciting new experience for her birthday. As usual, they’d called it right, and Hannah had loved every terrifying second of it.

She leaned back against me. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

“You’ve got that right.” I kissed her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla from the shampoo she’d been favouring for a while now. In a time when it seemed the future of our little family was slowly slipping out of my control, one determined teenage heartbeat at a time, that enduring fragrance was oddly reassuring.

This too will pass . My mother’s favourite saying played in my ears but brought little comfort. Hannah was growing up, gradually slipping out of my protective arms and into her own skin. It was inevitable and was even to be encouraged, I knew that. But that didn’t mean I had to like it. Not one little bit.

Some days when I looked at my daughter, I could only shake my head. We were different in too many ways to count, not least that Hannah possessed more courage in the tip of her little finger than I or her birth mother could ever aspire to in a lifetime. Hannah was much more like my parents in that regard. Or my older brother Kelvin, who’d summited Everest before the age of thirty-five, married a world-renowned climbing guide he’d met on said expedition, and was currently working through the legalities of converting part of our parents’ old dairy farm into an organic medicinal marijuana growing facility.

Don’t get me started.

Whereas I, on the other hand, was the eminently less daring product of my parents’ union, and I’m sure they looked at me the same way I did with Hannah, puzzling over the genetic anomaly. When we met for family dinners and the conversation turned to what we were up to in our lives, I was the odd one out by a galaxy or two. Branching out to stock a new range of tools in my small hardware store was never gonna cut it.

Hannah, for all her physical challenges, and possibly even because of them, fit in with the others like the proverbial glove. Whatever mobility assistance she needed for her juvenile idiopathic arthritis at the time—canes, elbow crutches, or wheelchair—didn’t matter one jot to her. She danced, rode horses, and was even learning to sit-ski and planning scuba lessons for the following summer.

I wasn’t complaining, not really. The go-get-’em and don’t-let-anyone-stop-you culture of the O’Connor clan meant they were the perfect family to have your back when life threw a ton of shit your way. And for that, I’d always be grateful. No one planned to be a parent at the tender age of sixteen, let alone a solo parent by twenty, when Hannah was first diagnosed and her mother bailed. But my family was there for the whole ride, and Hannah’s steadfast belief in what she could achieve regardless of her debilitating condition had a lot to do with that same annoying O’Connor mantra.

Even if I didn’t really buy into it for myself.

My whole family, including Hannah, lived for the next challenge life threw at them. Me? Not so much. Give me a small town, a comfy couch, and a great television series to binge, with a bowl of popcorn and my daughter at my side, and I was a happy man.

“The homestead has been here since the Mackenzie was first settled,” Luke offered some background to the station. “It’s been added to and renovated over the years, but its foundation remains the same. The place feels like a warm hug, but you can also sense the struggle those first pioneers went through trying to farm this land. The Mackenzie is unforgiving. The landscape and weather, brutal at times. And make no mistake, if you wander the hills and get lost, it can be lethal as well.”

Hannah gasped. “Have people died up there?”

I studied my daughter, captivated by Luke’s storytelling.

Luke shot me a questioning look that asked if I was okay with the tone of the conversation, and I answered with a grateful nod. Hannah’s sense of adventure could get her into trouble and a little warning wouldn’t go amiss.

He continued, “A few, over the years. Mostly people caught on the hills in bad weather without the right gear. That’s why you never wander off without telling someone where you’re going, even on a good day, understand?”

“Okay.” Hannah nodded enthusiastically and I swallowed a smile.

“But you’re gonna have a great time,” Luke added. “It’s an amazing place to visit and there’s lots to see and do. Although I should warn you, it’s got a way of getting under your skin. Some people come for a visit and never leave.” He glanced over his shoulder, wearing a huge smile. “Like me, for example.”

“Really?” I studied the back of his head.

He nodded. “Yeah. I used to fly all over New Zealand and internationally. But the first time I flew through these valleys, I thought my heart was gonna explode. There’s nowhere in the world quite like this.”

I smiled and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “You’re a romantic.”

A blush crept up his neck. “Kind of hard to live in this place and not fall prey to a bit of romance, don’t you think?”

I canvassed the scenery and found myself nodding. October had apparently been unusually cool in the high country and the first week of November wasn’t any better. The snow lay thick on most of the higher altitudes, while far below the thwump - thwump of the helicopter, thousands of hectares of billowy tussock and thorny matagouri painted the valley floor in shades of gold and brown, interspersed with patches of bright green pasture, grey shingle banks, and icy-blue glacial water.

“Yeah, I certainly wouldn’t object to having my breakfast on the deck looking at that view every day.”

Luke followed my gaze to the sprawling homestead nestled at the head of the valley, a small crystalline blue lake shimmering at its feet, and his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Yep. Some of the prettiest scenery in the Mackenzie.”

I didn’t doubt him for a second.

The single-level stone and weatherboard structure was picture-postcard beautiful. The long sloping lawn in front ran down to the water’s edge—a flash of vibrant green and bright blue in a landscape dominated by soft hues of grey and brown.

Two small cottages sat lakefront just to the side of the main house, while a mix of small agricultural buildings and yet more cottages sat further up the drive behind the homestead—their red roofs peeking up between densely planted shelter belts. A large woolshed, a labyrinth of yards, and several hay barns sat even further back alongside the airfield.

To the west of the homestead, a wide, braided river made its serpentine way through a network of gravel channels. The narrow band of river flats on either side were quickly subsumed into steep foothills slashed by bushy gorges and treacherous scree slopes. Peaking over the sawtooth ridges at the top, the Southern Alps flashed their snow-tipped peaks, and way, way in the distance, the Tasman Sea glistened.

Black cattle grazed the valley floor, while tiny specks of cream wandered the higher altitudes in groups of three or four. A ridiculous burst of excitement bubbled through my chest.

I leaned forward and pointed through the cockpit glass. “Are those merinos?”

Luke nodded. “Holden released some of the wethers onto the hill last week. The rest of the mob will join them soon.”

“Wethers?” I cocked my head.

“The castrated males,” Luke explained, and I winced. He chuckled. “They’ll graze their way deep into the back country over summer before being mustered around April.”

I frowned at the brown scrubby vegetation on the steep slopes as we passed over and shook my head. “Doesn’t look very appetising.”

Hannah groaned, “Daaaad. They’re born to eat that stuff. They prefer it.”

I frowned at the side of my daughter’s head. “How do you know?”

She turned and I was gifted the ubiquitous eye-roll in all its glory. “Cos at least I did some research on the place, unlike some.” She shook her head and returned to staring out her window. “Honestly.”

“Honestly,” I mimicked sarcastically to the back of her head, earning myself an elbow in the ribs.

Luke’s shoulders bounced in amusement. “She is right, though.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” I muttered, which only made him laugh harder.

“See, I told you,” Hannah mocked me softly.

“Moving right along,” Luke continued, before I might feel the need to check Hannah’s tone. “Just like Hannah said, merinos are born for this country. They’re tough critters. Canny too. They know where to find what they need and there’s thousands of acres for them to graze up there. They’re pro climbers and wander much higher than you’d think. Plus, they prefer to wander and snack over long distances rather than gorge themselves in a paddock.”

I shook my head. “Did someone check the quality of the gene pool?”

Luke gave a hearty chuckle, and I went back to staring out the side window at the majestic landscape rolling out before me. It truly was beautiful. Spending a week on a high-country sheep station was the opportunity of a lifetime. If only I could shake the constant reminder of the reasons we were here.

My gaze darted to Hannah, and when that familiar dread washed over me, I mentally slapped myself. Get a grip. This isn’t about me. This is about her. It’s what we’ve both been working toward. Hannah was starting to find her own way in the world. Making decisions for herself. Seeing a future that involved more than just a nowhere, sheltered life in Painted Bay. Reaching for something beyond that. Isn’t that what I’ve always wanted for her?

Of course it was. But thinking about it and being faced with the reality? Yeah, maybe not so much.

Luke spoke into his headset. “I’ll take you for a quick spin out the back of the property before landing. No charge. I’ll let the station know.”

“Really?” Hannah could barely contain her excitement. “That’d be awesome.”

Oh yay. More time in the flying tin can. I groaned to Luke, “You know, I’d hate to hold you up.”

And there was that charming grin again. “It’ll take five minutes, no more.” He crossed his heart. “You’ll be glad once you see the Havelock River. It’s impressive. And I promise, no loops or nose dives.”

“Damn right there won’t be,” I grumbled, which only earned more laughter from the other two.

We flew low over the homestead and woolshed, then skimmed the river through the narrow valley toward the Havelock. Along the way, Luke pointed out various landmarks and mountain tracks—or beats as he called them—and if we weren’t flying so low, I might’ve been interested if I wasn’t too busy white-knuckling my seat. Hannah oohed and aahed appropriately and Gabby pushed her nose into Hannah’s lap to try and grab a bit of that attention for herself.

Luke glanced at the retriever and smiled. “She’s a beautiful dog. How long have you had her?”

“A year,” Hannah answered, turning to scratch Gabby’s ears, and I could’ve sworn the damn dog smiled. “Dad’s best friend has got Ménière’s disease and he got a service dog called Mickey. He’s totally awesome. He knows when Judah’s going to have an attack before Judah does and makes sure he’s safe. Like this one time, Judah was biking up the hill from the wharf and Mickey just stopped and started barking until Judah got off the bike and sat down. He had an attack straight away, and Mickey kept barking until Leroy ran down from the house to help. Gabby is different from Mickey. She’s a mobility dog. She helps me get around and gets stuff for me when I can’t.”

“Then both Mickey and Gabby are amazing. Look, there’s the Havelock.” Luke flew the chopper in a wide arc and all conversation stopped as we circled the huge braided river powering its way from the Alps, through the Canterbury plains, west to the Pacific Ocean.

“Wow.” I blew a low whistle. “That must be impressive when it floods.”

“It can fill the valley from side to side,” Luke answered, sweeping lower for a closer look. “Now I think it’s time we headed back before Gil starts stomping his feet at my delay. The man has no patience.” He steered the chopper back toward the valley housing Miller Station and directed a question at Hannah. “So, what kind of things does Gabby do for you?”

“Sometimes I need help getting dressed,” she began. “Or when I’m trying to open doors and drawers, stuff like that. Plus, Gabby will go get help if I have a fall or hurt myself. We’re still learning though.” She kissed Gabby’s nose, and my eyes misted at their close bond. “That’s why we’re here to do more training. Judah says it takes time to become a really good team, right, Dad?”

“That’s right,” I agreed, stroking Gabby’s head.

“Well, I think you’ll enjoy working with Zach. His mother has pretty bad rheumatoid arthritis, so he understands.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Luke nodded. “ And he’s the best dog trainer in the Mackenzie. Trained all the top sheep dogs around these parts and he’s turning out to be just as good with service dogs.”

I cast him a curious look. “So, you know him well then?”

Luke huffed in amusement. “You could say that. I happen to be married to the man.”

I blinked. Married?

“Oh, that’s so cool,” Hannah announced brightly. “Dad’s friend Judah is gay too. He’s married to Morgan. And Judah’s brother, Leroy, lives with Fox, but they’re not married yet, and Leroy’s bi, not gay. Their mothers live together, as well. And Kane is married to Abe. He’s an amazing choreographer and he’s Judah’s friend, but they’re both gay.” She drew a breath, then frowned like she might’ve forgotten something.

I glanced forward to find Luke’s mouth hanging open and almost laughed.

Deciding she’d covered everyone, Hannah finished, “Anyway, just so you know, we get the whole LGBTQ thing.”

Luke snorted. “Ah... thanks. Always good to know. How old did you say you were?”

“I didn’t,” Hannah answered smoothly. “But I’m fourteen.”

Luke almost choked on another laugh. “I think I’m gonna have to visit this town of yours one day.”

“Hannah,” I cautioned. “It’s not your place to discuss people’s sexuality.”

Hannah delivered me an epic eye-roll. “I know. But those guys are about as out as you can possibly be without wearing a sign.”

Which was absolutely true, and her words were greeted by yet another chuckle from Luke.

“Still—” I kept the warning in my voice. “—it’s not polite.”

“Okay, okay.” She pouted and faced forward again, grumbling a faint, “Sorry,” in the tone all teenagers used when they weren’t sorry at all.

Luke glanced over as he spoke into the headset. “Your daughter’s a confident wee soul.”

I shot Hannah a parental look. “Tell me about it.”

She punched me on the arm. “You know you love it.”

I leaned over and kissed her head. “I admit nothing.”

“And there’s the welcoming committee.” Luke indicated directly ahead, where three tiny figures stood next to a red-roofed hangar, a group of dogs sitting quietly to one side. “I’ll have you down in a jiffy.”

A minute or so later, the chopper’s skids set down gently on the grass, and I immediately recognised the dog trainer, Zach, from his website. He wore a green checked shirt and light-wash jeans tucked into leather cowboy boots—handsome and wholesomely country. I glanced at Luke who was wearing a broad grin, his attention locked on his husband. The other two men had to be the station owners, Gil and Holden, although I wasn’t sure who was who—one blond and one with a head of messy dark curls.

When the chopper powered down, Zach jogged across and opened Hannah’s door, wearing a dazzling smile that had me warming to him immediately. “Well, hello there, beautiful girl. You must be the one and only Hannah O’Connor.”

Hannah beamed. “I am. Nice to meet you, Mister Lane.”

Luke snorted. “Just call him Zach. We don’t want to give him any ideas.”

“Too late.” Zach threw his husband a cheeky grin. “I think I like the sound of Mister Lane.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, right. In your dreams, sweetheart.”

“And you must be Terry.” Zach offered me his hand. His website photo had really done zero justice to those stunning green eyes.

“I am.” I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Right, let’s get you out of there.” Zach offered Hannah a helping hand, which she accepted while I stared at my daughter in amazement. Hannah hated being helped to do anything if she could possibly avoid it.

Hannah turned to grab her elbow crutches and shot me a don’t-you-dare-say-anything look. Like hell. I wasn’t that brave. But it was a good start to the week if my daughter already trusted the trainer, so I took it as a win.

With Hannah on the ground, Gabby swept past my knees to join her while I grabbed our bags, Hannah’s canes which she used on her better days, and her wheelchair which she needed for longer distances.

“Here, let me take some of that.” Luke took our bags and popped the canes under his arms before making his way back toward the other two men.

“Well, hello there, girl.” Zach dangled his hand for Gabby to take a long sniff but made no move to touch her. The retriever eyed him suspiciously before finally nudging his hand with her wet nose in grudging approval. That done, she scoped out her surroundings, her gaze lingering uncertainly on the other dogs.

Zach instructed the group of three to stay where they were. “We’ll let Gabby settle in before they meet properly. Right now she’s understandably nervous. Was that her first flight?”

“First time in a chopper,” Hannah corrected. “She flew to Wellington with us last week and then down to Christchurch.”

Zach nodded. “Helicopters are scary beasts. Looks like she did well. But these surroundings and all the smells are new, and she won’t feel safe leaving your side for a while.”

Hannah nodded. “She’s a good dog.”

Zach smiled approvingly. “I can see that. Now come and meet the others.” He led us across to where Luke stood chatting and waved a hand at the curious canines as he passed. “Get away back.”

Every dog walked a good ten metres away and sat.

“This is a beautiful place you have here,” I commented as we reached the others.

“Not mine, unfortunately.” Zach nodded toward the two men. “Holden here is the owner. I just have the privilege of living and working here.”

I kept my surprise under wraps as the younger of the two—mid-thirties at a push—stepped forward to shake my hand, his dark brown eyes scanning my face. “Nice to meet you, Terry. And you, Miss Hannah.” Holden shot Hannah a wink. “Call me Holden.”

Hannah smiled brightly. “Nice to meet you, Holden,”

“And this is my partner and much better half, Gil.” Holden extended his hand toward the blond man who was maybe in his forties with shrewd hazel eyes that seemed to look right through you. The man took it without hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled forward. “Gil manages everything around here that doesn’t have four legs. He’s also a psychologist and is responsible for the station’s wellness retreat programme.”

Gil chuckled. “Well, Holden’s right about the four-legged part, at least. Those critters are definitely not my superpower. Nice to meet you, Terry. You too, Hannah.” He shook hands with both of us.

The two men made a handsome couple, but when I shot a sideways glance to where Luke and Zach were sharing a quiet moment, I amended that thought—make that two handsome couples.

“And while we’re doing introductions...” Gil indicated the large huntaway sitting off to one side with the others, his gaze locked on Gil. “That’s Spider. You might say he’s my self-appointed and self-trained assistance dog. Where I go, he goes.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “Self-trained?”

Gil winked. “I’ll tell you about it one day. The dog next to Spider is Batman, one of Holden’s dogs, and the girl at the end is Nina. She belongs to Zach.”

A car horn blasted, and I turned to see a ute, barrelling down the road beside the air strip, with Oakwood Veterinary Clinic stamped on the driver’s door. As it drew alongside, the ute slowed and the driver stuck his head out the window. “I’ll need to come back to finish the others later in the week. And I want to check that bull again if you can bring him in. I’ll let you know when.”

Holden nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

The driver’s gaze slid sideways to me and a warm smile stole over his face. “So, who do we have here?” He looked me up and down. “A set of fresh victims—oops, I mean guests.”

“Hardy har har,” Gil mocked. “You think you’re so funny.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Excuse our friend here. He’s off his medication.”

“Terry and Hannah, this is our vet, Spencer.” Holden swept a hand toward the ute.

Hannah gave the man a wave. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Hi to you too.” Spencer shot Hannah a sunny smile. “That’s a good-looking dog you’ve got there.”

Hannah practically glowed. “Thanks. Her name’s Gabby. She’s a golden retriever and she’s my service dog. I have juvenile idiopathic arthritis.”

I rested a gentle hand on Hannah’s shoulder. I loved that she was always so open.

“Is that right?” Spencer leaned out his window for a closer look at Gabby. “Well, she sure is a beauty. She must be a big help to you.”

“She is.” Hannah nodded enthusiastically. “But Dad calls her a lovable drain on our bank accounts.”

Everyone laughed, including Spencer.

“Wow, thanks for that, sweetheart.” I walked over to shake Spencer’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The vet’s warm hand wrapped around mine. “The pleasure is all mine.” His gaze lingered and heat raced into my traitorous cheeks. I smiled faintly and quickly stepped away as he added, “Don’t let these guys boss you around. Before you know it, they’ll put you to work and have you thinking it was all your idea.”

“Ignore him.” Holden slapped the ute’s roof a couple of times. “Go on, get out of here. I’m not paying for your idle chit-chat.”

Spencer laughed. “You wish.” He shot me another quick smile and then disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Luke planted a chaste kiss on Zach’s cheek. “I need to head back. See you around six.”

Zach narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking between me and Hannah.

“They’re good with it,” Luke explained, adding a second chaste kiss for good measure before he started walking toward the chopper. “Just ask Hannah to tell you about their friends back home.”

Zach’s confused gaze darted to me and I shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

“You don’t start training until tomorrow, right?” Gil checked with Zach.

Zach nodded and caught Hannah’s eye. “It’s going to be a busy week. I suggest you enjoy what’s left of today.”

“In that case, once you’re unpacked, you’re welcome to take a drive with me to restock the River Hut for more guests arriving tomorrow,” Gil offered. “It’s about a forty-minute return trip.” He eyed Hannah. “Think you can handle a few river crossings?”

Hannah’s eyes sparked with excitement. “Yes please!” She shot me a pleading look. “We can go, right, Dad?”

I swallowed the tired groan barrelling up my throat, remembering my vow to be there for Hannah one hundred per cent this week, even if it killed me. I needed to do something to make up for my negative commentary throughout most of the interview and tour of Nolan Academy the week before. Was I overcompensating for my general reluctance about Hannah’s plans for the following year? Hell yes, I was.

“Sounds... fun,” I eventually managed. I even added a smile.

But when Gil cast me an amused glance, I knew I’d been busted. “How about you sit this one out and decompress for a bit,” he suggested. “Hannah and Gabby will be fine with me.”

Hannah shot me a cheeky smile. “Yeah, Dad. Take a nana nap.”

My turn to deliver an eye-roll.

Gil shot me a covert wink, then said to Hannah, “I might even be able to rustle up a couple of new lambs for a cuddle on the way back. You interested?”

Hannah’s eyes popped wide and she practically squealed, “Yes, please! I can, can’t I, Dad?”

I caught Gil’s eye, not wanting to give offence, but hey, dad in the house. “River crossings?”

Gil smiled. “I’m not going to tell you there’s zero risk, cos this is a working station and there’s always risk when you drive off- road. But the river is low at the moment, and we drive the track pretty much every day.”

“He’s right,” Holden chipped in. “It’s the station’s highway. Besides, Gil is our self-appointed and super-annoying health and safety officer. You couldn’t be in safer hands. We even have a fine jar in the kitchen for anyone caught driving recklessly.” He rolled his eyes, and I guessed there was a story or two there.

Gil only laughed. “You can be sure there’s an insult in there somewhere, but the jar pays for a few rounds at The Fleece every month, mostly due to Holden’s lead foot.” He eyeballed Holden. “Which is why he’s not driving you and I am.”

Holden waggled his brows. “He’s right. I’m officially banned from driving the guests anywhere .”

“With good cause,” Gil said enigmatically, making Holden laugh. “But I can easily ditch the river-crossing part. I totally get the worried-parent thing.”

Something in his expression told me he absolutely did, but when Hannah’s imploring brown eyes shot up to meet mine, I sighed and relented. “Go on then. Have some fun.”

Hannah gave a whoop of delight and dragged me down for a kiss.

When she let me go, I caught Gil’s eye. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “My pleasure. It’s all part of the service. Anything to do with dogs and training is Zach’s domain, but I’m here for everything else you might need regarding your stay. We keep all the cottage pantries pretty well stocked, plus there are basics in the fridge, including eggs and cheese and bacon. Plenty to get by on until you can get to the supermarket in Oakwood. But don’t forget that I’m available to cook for you as well if you want a night off—check the folder in the cottage for meal prices. They’re pretty reasonable.”

Holden slipped an arm around Gil’s waist and pulled him tight against his side. “You should definitely take Gil up on that. He doesn’t charge nearly enough and he cooks like a dream. One of his many, many talents.”

Gil’s cheeks pinked and he cast a soft look Holden’s way. “Are you still here?” An intimate moment passed between them that sparked an unexpected yearning that I thought I was done with as I wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel to be looked at like you were the most important person in someone’s world. Thirty years old and I still didn’t have a clue.

Holden took his leave with a “See you later” and a whistle for Batman to join him in the green truck.

“I might just take you up on that offer of a meal during the week,” I told Gil. “I do okay in the kitchen, but I’m no chef, and we’re on vacation, kind of.”

Gil smiled warmly. “It’ll be my pleasure. Give me a call or leave a note in the guest book by the front door. I check it morning and night. And my cell number is in the cottage folder. Use it anytime, day or night, or just knock on the front door of the homestead. The station rules are pinned to the cottage’s front door, so please read them. They talk about gates, no-go areas, and general manners with the stock. There are station maps if you want to explore, but please leave a note telling us where you’re going and what your plans are. These mountains are beautiful, but they can chew you up and spit you out in an instant. Too many people have lost their lives in them, even those born and bred here, so don’t take any chances.”

“We won’t.” I looked to Hannah to agree. “Luke already gave us the warning talk, right, Hannah?”

She nodded vigorously. “I promise.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you—” Gil paused, then grinned. “—well, I suppose I did, really. Visitors always underestimate the risks. Just don’t be one of those people. I’ve left a guest vehicle outside your cottage as you requested. We charge you to refuel and a small rental fee for the week, but you get the station discount if you fill up from our own tanks. The cottages are pretty quiet at the moment, so I’ve put you in our best lakefront suite.”

Hannah’s eyes grew wide. “Can we swim?”

Gil winced. “The water’s a tad cool and by that, I mean it’s freezing. This is glacial meltwater. Even in mid-summer, it has icicles on its icicles. Consider yourself warned. Having said that, some of the station crew are regular swimmers at this time of year, so if you’re happy to risk blue toes, I won’t stop you, as long as your dad keeps watch. And if you let me know beforehand, I’ll even have hot chocolate ready when you come out.” He winked and Hannah beamed. “So, I think that’s about it. Let’s get you to your cottage.”

Zach clapped his hands, then rubbed his palms together. “Okey dokey, then I’ll be on your doorstep at eight thirty sharp.” He caught my eye. “You’re welcome to watch if you want, but you’ll need to keep your distance.”

I raised both hands. “Nope. I’m gonna let you guys do your thing while I head into town for a few supplies and a bit of a look around. Hannah can fill me in at the end of the day.”

Hannah gave a long-suffering groan. “It’s because I told him he wasn’t allowed to hover.”

I ruffled her blond locks. “Never say I can’t take a hint.”

Zach chuckled but there was no hiding the obvious relief in his expression, and I totally got it. Doting parent hangers-on had to be the pits in his kind of work.

“In that case, you will spend the whole day with me, lunch included,” he informed Hannah. “And we will be working on and off the station. I want to see how you perform as a team in different environments. I’ve been through your medical reports and read through the questionnaire you completed, but is there anything else I should be aware of? Any situations you find particularly challenging or scary?”

Hannah’s chin jutted rebelliously, and I swallowed a smile at my daughter’s defiant independence. “No,” she said firmly, then glanced at me and sighed. “Okay, well, I might not be up to scaling these mountains—” She waved a hand toward the Southern Alps. “— yet , but anything else is just a problem to be solved, right? That’s what Judah always says.”

Zach smiled. “I think I might like this Judah, but just remember that it’s not weakness to admit when something is challenging or even beyond what you think you can manage right then. I’m sure this Judah person would say the same thing.”

I nudged Hannah with my knee and she grumbled, “Yeah. Okay. There’s stuff even he can’t do, I guess. Jeez, it’s like you lot are telepathic.”

Zach barked out a laugh and patted Hannah on the shoulder. “You and I are going to get along just fine. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

Hannah slid her arm around Gabby’s neck. “We’ll be ready.”

Zach turned to me. “I’ve also allowed a couple of hours in the schedule for you and me to have a chat, if that’s okay?”

Hannah scowled. “You’re going to talk about me, aren’t you?”

Zach chuckled. “Absolutely. Along with a few other things. But you and I will be talking plenty about your dad and Painted Bay as well. Sound fair?”

Hannah pulled a grumpy face. “I su ppose .”

Zach lifted an eyebrow my way. “How about you?”

“I su ppose ,” I mimicked and we all laughed.

“Good. Then I’ll leave you in Gil’s safe hands and see you tomorrow.” He whistled for Nina and the two headed for a red truck.

“Right, then. Let’s get you to your cottage.” Gil whistled Spider up onto the bed of the remaining truck, stowed our bags, and then helped Hannah into the back seat. Gabby shot up next to her charge and I rode shotgun.

“See, Dad, this is going to be the best week ever,” Hannah announced sunnily.

“Sure is.” I tried to match my daughter’s excitement but knew I’d failed when Gil shot me another curious look. It was going to be a long week.

Seven days stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Seven days with no distraction from the tangled mess in my head.

Seven days to start being a grown-up for my daughter’s sake.

How hard could it be?