Bolted (25 page)

Hank narrowed his eyes. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Just keep the light there. I don’t want to try this in the dark.” She stepped to the tree, placing one bare foot in the crook of a limb a couple of feet off the ground.

“Greta, it won’t hold you either. It’s too flimsy.” Hank’s voice was urgent.

“Wait just a minute there,” Alice snapped. “We need to discuss this.”

“It’ll hold me. I’m not going all the way up.” She placed another foot on a higher branch. “I’m the lightest one here after Hyacinth. If anyone’s going to go up, it has to be me.”

Above her the tree swayed slightly with the impact of her feet. Hyacinth whimpered again.

“Don’t worry, Hyacinth,” Greta called. “It’s all right. I’m coming for you.”

“It’s shaking.” Hyacinth cried. “Stop it! You’re making it shake.”

“It’ll hold us both,” Greta soothed, hoping to god that she was right. The branches seemed fairly rickety. She tried to keep her feet close to the trunk as she pushed her foot to a higher branch.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alice hissed. “You can’t carry the child down from there. The damn tree’s going to split. Both of you are going to break your necks.”

Greta ignored her, as well as the voice at the back of her mind telling her to stop and think, while she inched up the trunk until she was maybe three feet below Hyacinth. She could see the soles of her shoes where her ankles were clasped around the tree. It trembled slightly whenever either of them moved. “Okay, Hyacinth,” she said quietly, “we’re going to climb down this tree together. But I can’t climb any higher. The tree’s too skinny. You’re going to have to come down until you’re next to me.”

Hyacinth whimpered.

Greta tightened her grip on the trunk, trying to hold herself steady. “It’s okay. This will work. But you need to come down here opposite me.”

“The tree’s not strong enough,” Hyacinth moaned. “It’ll break with both of us up here.”

Greta sighed. “No it won’t. It’s thinnest up where you are now. If you come down further, it will be sturdier. The trunk gets thicker the lower you go. It’s going to be all right.”
Right, Greta, now convince the tree.

After another moment, she saw Hyacinth’s right foot move. Slowly, she brought her heel away from the trunk, fumbling for a moment until her toe was tucked into the base of a lower branch.

“That’s it,” Greta murmured as the child brought her other foot down. “Now put your hands on a couple of the branches and hold on while you bring your feet down to the next footholds.”

Hyacinth paused for a moment, as if she was gathering her breath, and then she moved her feet down slowly to the next set of branches. The tree trembled faintly, as if it were frightened too.

It seemed to take a very long time for Hyacinth to climb down to meet her, although it was probably only a matter of minutes. But eventually the two were more or less opposite each other, with Hyacinth hanging on to the trunk for dear life.

Greta was hanging on tightly herself. The tree shook beneath their combined weight.

Hyacinth blew out an unsteady breath. “Are you going to carry me down?”

Greta shook her head. “We’re going to climb together now. I’ll start and then you follow.”

Hyacinth bit her lip, but then she nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay. See where I have my hands? That’s where your feet will go next, as soon as I get down a little farther.” She dropped down to the next set of branches, then watched as Hyacinth set her feet carefully into the crotches of the branches she’d just left.

“See how it works?” Greta gave her the brightest smile she could muster. “We’re much closer to being down now. We’ll just keep going like this until we’ve gone all the way. Okay?”

Hyacinth nodded, watching her with wide eyes.

“Okay, then, here we go again.” Greta felt around below her for her next toehold, careful to keep her gaze on Hyacinth as the tree swayed beneath them. “Just put your feet where my hands were, and you’ll be fine.”

The time it took to climb down three feet of trunk seemed agonizingly long. Greta kept murmuring encouragement while she tried to keep her bare feet from slipping off the branches. If she fell, she had a feeling Hyacinth would not be easy to pry loose. Of course, if she fell, she’d probably have other things on her mind herself.

Finally, when they were a few feet from the ground, Hank stepped up beside the trunk, reaching his arms up for Hyacinth. “Okay, kid, I’ve got you,” he said, taking hold of her hips.

Hyacinth gave a small sob and turned, throwing her arms around his neck. Hank looked faintly surprised, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, turning toward Alice. “Here you go. Here’s your grandmother.”

Hyacinth transferred her embrace to Alice, clasping her arms around her waist and burying her face in Alice’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. I was so scared, Grandma.”

Alice stroked her hair a little awkwardly. “Okay, you’re all right now. Let’s get you back home. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Nadia stepped next to her sister, wrapping her arms around her so that Hyacinth was caught in between them. “Oh, child, we were so worried. Don’t ever do that again.”

Hyacinth shook her head, apparently too relieved to talk.

Alice transferred Hyacinth to Nadia, stepping away to where Greta was leaning against the tree trunk trying to get her breath as she pulled on her shoes. “That was a damn fool stupid thing to do.”

“Maybe. In retrospect.” Greta rubbed a hand across her face. “But it was all I could think of.”

“You could have hurt my granddaughter.” Alice kept her voice low, and it sounded like she was managing not to yell by sheer will. “Would it have killed you to have taken five seconds to tell us what you had planned?”

Greta shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You were lucky. And it turned out all right. That’s the only thing that’s keeping me from having your head on a platter.” Alice took a shuddering breath.

“Alice,” Nadia called. “Time to go. Hyacinth needs to get to bed.”

After another moment, Alice nodded, then turned her back on Greta, stalking stiffly across the clearing to where the two stood.

“Come on.” She draped an arm across Hyacinth’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Nadia draped her own arm across Hyacinth, who wrapped her arms around her two elderly relatives. The three of them managed to shuffle off toward Tompkins Corners without a backward glance.

Greta kept her gaze on the mass of pine needles underneath the tree, trying not to feel the ache in the middle of her chest. The disappointment. The guilt.
You’ve felt like this before. So what?
Yeah, she had. Every time she’d rushed into something when she shouldn’t have. She just wished she didn’t keep doing things that made her feel this way.

Hank still stood where he’d been when he’d handed Hyacinth over to Alice. Greta brushed the remaining pine bark and dust off her knees, fighting back the numbing wave of regret. After all, she’d actually gotten the kid down in one piece.

“Alice was right in a way. That was an amazingly nutty thing to do,” he said quietly.

Greta stiffened, not looking up. “Thanks for sharing.”

He shrugged. “Still, it worked. I’m sort of bowled over by your audacity, but it did work.”

“So you think Alice was right?” She straightened. “That it was another example of my chronic lack of judgment?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I think Alice is upset and suffering from the effects of seeing her granddaughter stuck at the top of a pine tree. My guess is she’ll feel a lot different tomorrow morning. If you hadn’t done it, Hyacinth might still be up there. And given how scared she was, she definitely needed to be brought down. It paid off.”

Greta folded her arms across her chest. “So what are you saying exactly?”

He sighed. “Maybe that this whole impulsive thing you’re worrying about isn’t always bad. Maybe you should give yourself a break.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess it’s not always bad. But the fact that it worked this time doesn’t really get me off the hook.”

He frowned slightly. “Why did you do it, by the way? I mean, why didn’t you take a few moments to explain what you had planned before you took off up the tree?”

She shrugged again. “I’m afraid of heights.”

He stared at her blankly. “Say what?”

“I’m afraid of heights. If I’d stood around and talked about it, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I figured if I got myself up there, I’d be able to get us both down.”

He shook his head slowly. “You could have been stuck up there too. You realize that makes no sense.”

“Now it doesn’t. Then it sort of did.”

Hank sighed. “Come on.” He pulled her against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We can talk this all out later. Or not. But at any rate, it’s time to go back to bed.”

She nodded, leaning against him. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Nope.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “No plans. No analysis. We just go back to bed and take it from there.”

She gazed up at him, the dark green eyes, the brush of sandy hair turned to silver in the moonlight, the slight scrape of beard on his cheeks. She could have all that if she wanted it.

And she did want it. Very much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t look like she could let herself take it.

“I think I need to head back home tomorrow,” she murmured.

There was a long pause. Then Hank sighed. “Whatever you say, Greta. But keep in mind, Promise Harbor isn’t that far away.”

That’s what I’m counting on. Sort of.

Chapter Eighteen

For her last breakfast on her last day at Casa Dubrovnik, Greta made French toast with blueberries and whipped cream cheese. She’d sort of been saving it, knowing it qualified as a finale dish, at least the way she did it.

Of course, she hadn’t figured her last day would be quite such a final finale. She hadn’t talked to any of the Dubrovniks since last night. The Hotel Grand had been dark and still when she and Hank had finally gotten back. For a few moments, she’d actually considered sleeping in the garden, but Hank had a key to the front door along with his room key.

Now he sat alone at the kitchen table, slicing into his French toast with gusto. “I don’t suppose you could just box me up the rest of this for a midmorning snack.”

She shook her head. “It wouldn’t taste as good if it sat out on the table all morning. Plus this is the end of the bread. I’ll need to bake some more before I can make your sandwiches. Maybe I’ll just grab some from the store.”

He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Hell. I’m going to have to go back to making my own freaking sandwiches.”

“You can handle it.” She managed to give him a tight smile. “You did your own lunches before I showed up. I have every confidence in you.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “but the company’s going to suck.”

She turned back to the stove, slicing the last few pieces of bread. No way was she going to start feeling crappy this early in the morning. Of course, she might not have a choice.

The door swished behind her as Nadia entered the kitchen, slipping her pink pashmina up over her shoulders. “Good morning,” she trilled. “French toast? How lovely.” She settled at the table opposite Hank, smiling beatifically. “And how is everyone this morning?”

“Late.” Hank pushed himself to his feet, wiping the last bit of cream cheese from his lips. “Thanks for the breakfast.” He paused. “For all the breakfasts, actually.”

Greta took a deep breath, ordering herself not to get teary. “You’re welcome.”

She watched him head for his truck, trying not to think about the fact that this might well be the last time she’d see him.

“You’re leaving?” Nadia picked up her coffee cup. “I thought you’d have worked through that by now.”

“There’s nothing to work through. I said I’d be here a week, and it’s been almost a week.” Greta placed a plate of French toast in front of her. “I’ve enjoyed it—well, most of it. But it’s time to go back to the real world and face the music. I’ve got some decisions to make.”

One of Nadia’s black eyebrows arched up. “Not the real world as in the husband, surely. Or the ex-husband, to be more accurate.”

“No. Ryan’s gone back to Boston. I’m heading for Promise Harbor.” She managed not to sigh. “Where I’m from.”

Nadia took a bite of toast, nodding approvingly. “So even though the idea of opening your own bakery service in our kitchen appeals to both you and me and undoubtedly Alice if it was explained to her, you’re still leaving?”

Greta dipped another piece of bread into her egg mixture. “Alice might not be all that enthusiastic about me sticking around after last night.”

“Last night Alice lost her temper.” Nadia shrugged. “She does that regularly. She probably won’t apologize, and she will probably assume that the entire confrontation wasn’t serious enough to rate discussion.”

Greta turned, resting her hip against the counter. “Do you feel that way too?”

“I feel you did a courageous and slightly foolhardy thing. But you wanted to rescue my grandniece and you did. We could all have stood around and debated what to do for an hour while Hyacinth grew colder and stiffer and more and more frightened. But instead, thirty minutes later we took her home. I’m grateful to you.” She took a sip of coffee, smiling appreciatively. “And Alice will be too, once she’s had the chance to stop being so frightened over Hyacinth’s brush with injury or worse.”

As if she’d heard her name, Hyacinth breezed into the kitchen, smiling happily. If she had any lingering terrors from the night before, they didn’t show at the moment. “Good morning. What smells so good?”

“French toast with blueberries and whipped cream cheese. There’s also syrup if you want it.” Greta turned back to the stove.

“Yes, please.” She plopped into her chair next to Nadia. “Can we go to Promise Harbor today? I need to go to the library.”

“I suppose.” Nadia shrugged. “I need to do some grocery shopping anyway.”

Hyacinth’s forehead furrowed. “Why doesn’t Greta do the shopping? She’s cooking.”

“I won’t be cooking after today,” Greta explained, placing Hyacinth’s French toast in front of her. “This is my last day at the hotel.”