Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HAWK
“What are men to rocks and mountains?”
~ Elizabeth Bennet
My siblings had the worst timing.
I left the Environmental Committee meeting with my mind buzzing over all the things I needed to do before my dinner meeting with Simon.
I had to collect the protest signs I’d left at the Peak that morning since poster board and the soaking rain we were supposed to get tonight would not mix.
I had to run by the library to pick up some flyer-printing supplies Mr. Yetzer had donated, which did a lot to mitigate my lingering annoyance with his gossipy ways.
I had to run home to sort through the huge pile of laundry and camping supplies I’d dropped at the farmhouse that morning and find a more appropriate outfit for the Stag and Crowne.
I needed to call Dora York to arrange a bigger room for our next meeting since my little Environmental Committee now exceeded the forty-person capacity of the small room we’d been allotted, even with several members inexplicably absent.
And if I got all of that other stuff done, I might have time to stop by the diner just long enough to kiss the supportive and patient boyfriend I hadn’t seen in thirty-three hours and make plans with him for later tonight since I was missing him like crazy and our adorable text conversations were not cutting it.
As I walked out to my car, I fantasized briefly about canceling my meeting, kidnapping Jack Wyatt, and taking him home to do all sorts of unspeakably delicious things to his big, naked body—probably on the front porch, at least for the first round, since I didn’t have the patience to make it all the way to his bed… but I couldn’t.
Support for Save Fogg Peak had grown so exponentially that if we kept our momentum going for another week or so, I was confident Little Pippin Hollow would vote a resounding no to the proposed development, and the Peak would be protected.
The Hawk I’d been at the town meeting a few weeks back would have rejoiced that the mountain would remain the same… but lots of things had changed in a very short time, and my dreams had changed along with them.
Last night, lying in my sleeping bag on the mountain while Jack worked the closing shift at the diner a few miles away, I’d thought a lot about the future—mine, his, ours, even the mountain’s.
I was still pretty short on specifics, but I knew one thing for certain: any happy ending where Jack’s dream got sacrificed for mine wasn’t my happy ending anymore.
Protecting the Peak by having it stand unchanged as a testament to the past was as deeply rooted in my own fears as Jack’s anti-relationship bias had been rooted in his.
And for us to really move forward together, I had to consciously let go of that fear like Jack had.
I had to believe there was a solution where both of us would be happy.
And I had to commit to doing the work to get there, even if it meant stepping out of my comfort zone and becoming a guy who knew about sustainable design.
Like Marco had told me the other day, “It’s one of those compromises folks make when they commit to each other.” It turned out when the old dudes weren’t measuring their genitals, they were pretty fucking wise.
Unfortunately for me, all of this wisdom meant keeping my plans with Simon tonight. I wanted the dang reports he’d been dangling over my head for weeks, and I wanted to get his thoughts on delaying the vote until Evola could come up with an amended proposal.
And then I would get back to the business of kidnapping my boyfriend for front-porch sex shenanigans.
Needless to say, when I got Em’s text needing a favor just as I got to my car, I was not feeling receptive.
Em
Gracie says she needs your help up at Fogg Peak near the old footbridge.
I unlocked my door, sat inside, and banged my forehead gently on the steering wheel.
Help with what? I’m meeting someone for dinner and I have a billion errands to do first.
Em
IDK? She said it’s important and asked me to find you, but I’m babysitting the Preswick twins at the movie theater.
Another message came in, practically on top of the last.
Em
Should she be on the mountain with a storm coming? I’m worried she… Shit! Popcorn situation. Later.
I quickly typed out a reply:
Wait! Give me Gracie’s number!
But when a full minute passed with no response, I knew I’d missed my window.
I banged my head a little harder and whimpered, waving a mental goodbye to the possibility of a visit with Jack before my meeting. Then I started the car and headed to Fogg Peak.
I couldn’t not go. Gracie was a sweet, helpful person who’d become passionate about the resort development, but her judgment was sometimes…
questionable. It was equally possible that she “needed my help” making a TikTok of the gathering rain clouds by the historic footbridge and that she “needed my help” because she’d sprained her ankle, panicked, and messaged Em instead of calling 9-1-1.
If I hiked up the much steeper, craggier, and lesser-used Rock Cut Trail, I could make it to the footbridge in half the time.
Then I could help Gracie—or call in appropriate help if it was an actual emergency—get her and my signs off the mountain before the rain began, and still make it to the meeting with Simon.
But when I got to the Rock Cut pullout, I was shocked to find I wasn’t the only one there.
“Ms. Fortnum?” I demanded, pulling my car in beside her SUV and the group of Hookers assembled there. “Mrs. Williams? Is this why you weren’t at the Environmental Committee meeting?” I glanced dubiously up the steep trail. “Were you… hiking?”
The Hookers exchanged a look.
“Not hiking,” Mrs. Thorndyce said. “We were, ah…” She glanced at Ms. Fortnum and made a rolling hand motion.
“Having a Hooker bonding ritual,” Ms. Fortnum inserted smoothly. She patted the yarn bag at her side.
“Yes,” Ms. Williams agreed. “Yes, indeed. Working on some… pesky toe closures.” She gave me a beaming smile. “It’s been marvelously uplifting.”
“Putting some good vibes into the mountain,” Phillip Vincent said with an eyebrow wiggle. “For longevity and vitality.”
A woman in the back of the group snorted. “We were putting something in something, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, god.” I squinted at Helena. “Please tell me you guys haven’t started doing naked things on the mountain where the Mini Nature Scouts could see you.”
The Hookers had been known for topless knitting in the past, but I’d never heard of them doing it outside like this. I envisioned myself on a hike with the kids, pointing out a grove of ancient trees… only for them to get an eyeful of ancient something else.
Gene Reddy laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Not this time, young Sunday. Not this time.”
I blew out a breath. “Did any of you happen to see Gracie Hubbard up there?”
Helena shook her head. “No… but then again, we didn’t go all the way up to the summit. We were… over by Coster’s Meadow and then came the long way back around the old logging trail.”
It seemed strange that they’d headed over that way where the only interesting things to see were the Evola surveyor’s trailer and the town’s large pumpkin patch… which, admittedly, would be in full bloom right about now.
Rather than asking them more details of their pumpkin-patch ritual—because with my luck, they’d answer—I shoved my feet into my hiking boots I’d left in the car and grabbed my spare day pack, checking to see if I had enough water and my first aid kit.
I really wished I hadn’t left the stuff sack containing my strong flashlight and radio at home with the rest of my camping gear.
“Awful late to be heading up now,” Helena said with a frown. “And you’re going alone?”
I glanced up from my pack. “I have to check on Gracie. She’s out here by herself and doesn’t have much hiking experience.” I surveyed the thick clouds on the horizon. “Plus, I need to get my signs under cover.”
She pursed her lips and studied me. “Thought you had a date with Simon tonight?”
“A date?” I wrinkled my nose in confusion.
I wasn’t surprised she knew about my dinner plans—somehow, Ms. Fortnum knew more about the happenings in Little Pippin Hollow than anyone—but that also meant she’d probably known Jack and I were together before we had.
“I’m not going on a date with Simon. I don’t think my boyfriend would enjoy that very much. ”
“See?” Mrs. Williams jabbed Ms. Fortnum’s arm with her elbow. “Told you Hawk was loyal.”
“To Jack? Of course I am. Simon and I are meeting for a business dinner. He promised to show me environmental studies on Evola’s last couple of big projects,” I explained.
“Hopefully that’ll help us figure out what a good compromise would be here in the Hollow.
Personally, I’m thinking something smaller, further down on the mountain—”
“Compromise,” Helena sighed. “Hawk Sunday. You kids today with your wacky ideas.”
I rolled my eyes. “The people of the town need the financial boost from increased tourism. You run an inn—an inn where the Evola folks have been staying for months,” I pointed out. “You understand the need for revenue and for compromise.”
“Hmm.” She sniffed. “If you say so. I think it’s gonna take more than that. But don’t worry, Hawk. We have your back. The Hookers have assembled.”
She’d said that before, more than once. I couldn’t help thinking that if they had my back, they’d have been at the Environmental Committee meeting instead of doing some midafternoon sex ritual, but I appreciated the thought.
I waved goodbye and headed out, concentrating on foot placement as I covered loose, scree-covered terrain as quickly as I could.
When I got to the place where Rock Cut Trail intersected Glassy Creek Trail, I heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining yet, and the clouds moving in weren’t particularly menacing—just enough to cool the air as I climbed higher on the mountain.