forced herself to do one more set. The doctors and her physical therapist had told her that the better shape she remained in, the less the trauma her body had suffered would prevent her from doing what she wanted to do in life.
Which made perfect sense, but this was heavy; she’d added more weight to her routine this morning. She focused on pushing the bar up as her muscles began to quiver.
Uh-oh, she realized, barbell now definitely heading in the wrong direction. She was going to have to roll out from under it somehow.
Her eyes snapped open as the bar was suddenly snatched out of her hands. The clinking sound it made as it was dropped on the rack seemed to echo through the empty weight room of the community center.
Cricket scowled down at her. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”
Hannah grinned up at him, wiping her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. “No, but I admit I may have pushed it a little too far. Thank you.”
He leaned over so his upside-down face was only inches above hers. “You should know better than to lift this much weight without a spotter. It’s weight lifting 101.”
She shifted her gaze one way and then the other. She tried to sound casual even as the danger of her actions began to sink in. “Well, there’s no one else here.”
“That’s because no one else in their right mind gets up at four in the morning to work out.”
“You do,” she spouted with a laugh.
“Yeah, so next time wait for me, okay?”
She sat up and mumbled a “fine” as she did so, because she knew he was right. That had kind of scared her.
He took a seat on the bench beside her. “How are you feeling anyway?” He motioned in the general direction of her left leg.
She nodded, but didn’t make eye contact. “Good.”
He kept staring. He always watched her close and for some reason she didn’t mind. She had known Cricket forever, but the last year and a half since becoming her business partner he’d also become like a brother to her. Closer actually than her own two brothers, who were both wonderful yet...
Her family was close, but Hannah had always felt odd having been born the middle child among her siblings—five years after her sister Shay who had come just two years after their oldest brother Tag. Those two were tight. Then Hannah had come along, and five years later the triplets had been born; Hazel, Iris and Seth. Those three were their own special kind of unit. Which had left Hannah kind of floundering in the middle, and then she’d been away so much of her childhood, skiing.
She knew it would be pointless to lie to him. “Still having some pain. It’s probably nothing, but I’m going to call the doctor.”
“When?”
“Soon,” she promised. “Right after the holidays.”
“Hannah—”
“That’s only a few weeks. It’s not getting worse. It’s just there. And I doubt it will make any difference.”
He eyed her skeptically. “How in the world could you possibly know that?”
She chuckled. “I don’t, but I was hoping you would buy it.”
* * *
HANNAH HADN’T SEEN the little boy during the next couple visits that followed their first encounter in the atrium, so this morning she was pleased to find him waiting for her. Technically, he was hiding again, but she felt confident he was doing so in anticipation of her arrival.
She pretended as if she didn’t see him as she ducked into the storage room to collect the fish food. She strolled over to the pond where the koi began to swim at a faster clip as they spotted her. Keeping one eye on the little boy, she threw a handful of food into the pond and then another.
“Ouch! My wrist hurts,” she called out and then shook her hand as if the motion had caused her pain. She looked toward the pond. “How will I feed you guys? I could really use some help.”
A soft voice floated over to her. “You should use your other hand.”
She stifled a grin. “Oh, I guess I could try that.” She reached into the bucket left-handed and then made a show of sloppily throwing the food on the floor. A few pieces dribbled into the water where the koi quickly gobbled them up.
A little breath huffed out its disappointment. “That wasn’t very good.”
She smiled. “I know. Cut me a break, will you? I’m not ambidextrous.”
A giggle followed and Hannah knew she was making progress.
He added, “I already know you’re not a frog.”
She thought, Ambidextrous? Oh, amphibian. She laughed. “Are you a frog?”
More giggling and then, “No.”
“Are you sure? I don’t trust frogs. They’re really jumpy. Have you noticed that?”
“Well, they hop.”
“Yeah, what’s that all about? It’s suspicious. I think they should walk like normal people.”
“But they’re not people. They’re frogs.”
“Like you?”
“Nooo...” He erupted with a fit of laughter and the sound warmed her heart.
“Maybe you should come over here and let me see for myself?”
Still grinning, he stepped tentatively out from behind the tree. Hannah asked, “Do you want to help me feed the koi?”
He shuffled sideways a few steps. “The what?”
She pointed. “The koi. These fish, they’re called koi.”
“I thought they were goldfish.”
“Nope, they’re different. Come a little closer and I’ll show you how and tell you their names.”
“They have names?”
“They do.” Hannah peered into the pond and then pointed. “That one—with the black and white, and the big spot of orange on its back? That is my koi and her name is Bridget. That spotted bright red and white one there is Jasmine.”
He cautiously skirted around the edge of the pond until he stood by her side. “What about that one?”
She followed his finger with her eyes. “The one that’s almost all orange? That’s Carmen.”
“Are they all girls?” Hannah thought he sounded disappointed by the notion.
“No. That’s Henry and that’s Emmett.” Pointing to a large white fish with black spots, she informed him, “The biggest one there. That’s Silvio.”
An interested expression lit his face and she felt certain he was committing this all to memory. She looked forward to quizzing him next time.
“What’s your name?”
“Lucas.”
“Okay, Lucas.” She handed him the bucket. “Go ahead and toss in some more breakfast. Remember we can only give them certain kinds of food or they might get sick, but after you’ve helped me feed them a few times, they’ll start to recognize you when you get close to the pond...”
* * *
HANNAH BAILED OFF the magic carpet—the conveyor system she’d chosen for the resort’s beginner slopes. The conveyor worked like a flat escalator allowing riders to easily step on and step off the belt. She pulled her tube across the hillside, stopping to assess their progress.
“Hey, Gareth, Reagan,” she called to her cousin Janie’s sixteen-and fourteen-year-old sons. “Let’s go over to...” She traipsed about forty feet and stopped