Hummingbird Lake (2 page)

Sage didn’t argue with her, but she didn’t anticipate her own day being all that busy. Other than showing up at St. Stephen’s thirty minutes early to help Nic dress, the only tasks on her docket were to witness the wedding and stroll Celeste’s estate as a guest at the grand opening. She didn’t intend to open Vistas, her art gallery, at all today.

After Celeste left, Sage wrapped her gift for Nic and Gabe in plain brown paper and fished a red marker from her junk drawer in order to draw hearts as decoration. When the memory of a homemade valentine that
had giraffes sporting heart-shaped spots drifted through her mind, she sucked in a breath.

“Stupid dream,” she muttered, then gritted her teeth as the pain washed over her. Following a dream, invariably the memories stayed around like a hangover. Not all memories were bad, but the good ones seemed to be buried beneath the mountain of ugliness she’d brought home from Africa.

Sage set down the marker and walked to her kitchen window, where she gazed out across Hummingbird Lake toward Eternity Springs. Taking in that view went further to rid herself of that hangover than ingesting any painkiller ever could.

“Forget the nightmare,” she murmured. “The sadness ends now.”

Well, at least for today. Today was going to be a wonderful day. This was Nic’s real wedding day and the culmination of Celeste’s “Angel Plan” for the economic survival of Eternity Springs. It was a day for celebration—not one for nightmares and heartbreaking memories—and it was time she headed for the church.

As she retrieved her car keys from her bedside table, she stared longingly at her pillow and added aloud, “A day for celebration, and maybe a nap.”

A hand slapped Colt Rafferty’s ass and jolted him out of his dream. It had been a good dream, too. Warm sun and a sugar sand beach. A beer in his hand. Half-naked women jumping to catch a Frisbee, jiggling. Loved that jiggling.

“Roust your butt out of bed, boy. The trout are calling our names.”

Colt growled into his pillow and bit back the caustic words he would have spoken to any other man on earth. This man, however, was his father.

He cocked open one eye and groaned. “It’s still dark.”

“Of course it’s still dark,” Ben Rafferty said. “Have you forgotten how to fish? We need to be at the water at dawn.”

Colt’s flight out of Washington yesterday had been delayed by weather. It had been midnight before he’d made it to Eternity Springs, almost two before he’d hit the sack. What he needed was sleep. “Angel Creek is right outside.”

“I fished the creek yesterday while I was waiting for you to get here. If I’d known you’d be so late arriving, I’d have gone up north and tried my hand at the Taylor River. I’ve been itching to fish there for years. We don’t have time for that today, though, so I’m thinking we should fish Hummingbird this morning. It’s only ten minutes from here, and with the grand opening kicking off at noon, this will be a busy place this morning. Fishing should be done in peace and quiet.” Then, in a quieter tone, he added, “We only have today together, son. I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”

At that, Colt rolled out of bed.

Twenty minutes later, they stood along the bank of Hummingbird Lake and made their first cast of the morning. With it Colt felt the warm, gentle blanket of peace surround him. His dad must have experienced a similar sensation, because he sighed and said, “This comes close to being a religious experience.”

“Yep. And I’ve been away from church for too long.”

Ben Rafferty glanced at him. “How long has it been since you’ve visited Eternity Springs?”

“Three years. Haven’t been back since I took the job in D.C.”

His father shook his head. “That’s a crying shame, son.”

Colt had to agree. Colorado always had been special to him. His family had vacationed in Eternity Springs every year when he was a kid, and he’d loved everything
about the town. He’d started working summers up here his last two years in high school and continued that all the way through college and even grad school. His mom always said that the reason he’d stayed in academics as long as he had was because he wasn’t willing to give up his summers in the mountains.

“I wish this trip could be longer,” he admitted. “If my appointment next week was for anything other than testifying before Congress, I’d skip it.”

“That’s a difficult class to cut.” Ben Rafferty, high school science teacher, nodded sagely.

“It’s a dog and pony show, is what it is. A pain in the ass.” After a teaching stint at Georgia Tech, Colt had taken his Ph.D. in chemical engineering to the CSB, the U.S. Chemical Safety and Hazard Investigation Board, where he investigated industrial explosions. He loved the work—solving the puzzle of what happened in an incident and why and determining how to avoid a similar accident in the future—but he hated the hoops he and his team had to go through to get anything changed. They could write wonderful reports about their findings, but unless that led to change, what good did they do? “Let’s not talk about work anymore. It’ll spoil my appetite for my fish. I’m here today, and I intend to take full advantage of it. A little dose of Eternity Springs is better than nothing.”

“Amen, son.”

Thinking he’d had a hit, Colt tugged on the line. Nope. Nada. He made another cast, then laughed. “Know what I was dreaming about when you woke me up this morning? Senior trip.”

Ben Rafferty gave a long-suffering sigh. “And people think preachers’ kids are wild. Teachers’ kids are ten times worse.”

“Aw, c’mon, Dad. I wasn’t wild.”

Ben snorted. “Sure you were. You were also the most
stubborn, hardheaded, determined boy on the planet. Once you got an idea in your head, there was no stopping you. Don’t see how that’s changed, either.”

“Being tenacious is an asset in my work.”

“Sure made it a challenge to be your father.”

After that, conversation lagged as the two men went about the serious business of fishing. For that stretch of time, Colt was as happy as he’d been in months.
I really need to get to Colorado more often
.

“Woo-hoo,” Ben called out, snagging Colt’s attention as he landed the first fish. “Better get to work, boyo. I’ll be having myself a fine trout breakfast and you’ll be eating cereal.”

“Not gonna happen.” Colt proved his claim by catching the next two, which led to some good-hearted grumbling from his father.

Time passed and Colt soaked in the peacefulness of the morning. The air carried the tangy scent of a cedar campfire, and above him a hawk soared on a subtle breeze. Worries about the upcoming committee meeting nagged at the edges of his brain, but as Ben Rafferty pulled another rainbow from Hummingbird Lake, Colt lifted his gaze toward Murphy Mountain, tucked his worries away, and allowed Eternity Springs to work its mojo on him. He was here, fishing with his dad. Life was good.

“I’m glad you could make it up here this week, Dad.”

“I am too, son. Wish the rest of the family could have come along as well, but your mom insisted that you and I needed some”—he smirked and stressed the words—“male bonding time. Personally, I think she’s laying the groundwork to take a girls’ trip with your sister. I’ve heard them whispering about a spa weekend.”

“If Mom and Molly want a spa holiday, they should come up here. I have it on good authority that Angel’s
Rest has hired the best masseuse this side of the Mississippi.”

His dad glanced over at him. “Speaking of Angel’s Rest, when do I get to see this sign of yours? Ms. Blessing went on and on about it and about your artistic talent yesterday when I checked in.”

“She was happy with the sign.”

“Happy? Now there’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. She told me that you have enough talent to make your living as an artist.”

Colt shook his head at that nonsense and changed the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking it’s about time for breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” His father jerked his head toward their fishing creels. “You clean ’em, I’ll cook ’em.”

“That’s a deal.”

Back at the carriage house, with the aroma of fried trout drifting on the morning air, Colt looked through the kitchen window toward a mountainside gone gloriously gold with the color of aspens in autumn and smiled. The town’s newly adopted slogan couldn’t be more suitable:
Eternity Springs—it’s a little piece of heaven in the Colorado Rockies
.

“I love it here, Dad. I need to visit more often.”

“Then do it.”

“How? My job is in D.C.”

Ben Rafferty slapped him on the back. “You’ll find a way to get what you want, son. You always do.”

TWO

The marriage ceremony at St. Stephen’s couldn’t have been more lovely, Sage decided. Nic made a gorgeous bride, all ripe and plump and pregnant, and Gabe looked happy and relaxed and finally at peace. She mentioned as much to her friend, Sarah Reese, as they left the church and began the half-mile walk to the healing center on the opposite side of Angel Creek.

“Gabe is happy, he’s crazy in love,” Sarah said, her Liz Taylor–violet eyes gleaming with delight. Her short dark hair crowned an angular face and gave her a sassy look that matched her personality perfectly. Today she wore a yellow sundress and strappy heeled sandals, and she carried a bridesmaid’s bouquet of daisies. “Of course, Celeste would point out that it’s Eternity Springs doing its healing thing.”

Sage twirled her own daisy bouquet as she thought of the conversation with Celeste earlier that morning and nodded in agreement. “I think she has something there.”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s a little woo-woo for me. We’re not Shangri-La. There are plenty of miserable, unhappy people in Eternity Springs. I have two words for you: Marlene Lange.”

Fiftysomething and never married, Marlene made her living as a realtor, piano teacher, and choral director for the school. She rarely smiled, regularly offered her caustic opinions when they were neither needed or appreciated,
and often took offense over ridiculous, imagined slights.

“Poor Marlene,” Sage said. “She had dreams of singing professionally. Did you know that? After her father had his stroke, she stayed here to help her mom care for him, and she ended up caring for her aging parents until she’d aged herself.”

“And grew bitter and unhappy and mean—thus making my point.”

Sage could have voiced the obvious—that Sarah was walking the same road and she should take care that Eternity didn’t gain a bitter baker along with its bitter realtor—but today wasn’t the day for that. She kept her mouth shut.

Sarah continued, “I think the healing center is a great idea, but if it’s successful it will be because Celeste threw enough money and manpower at it to make it work, not because of some happy-mist cloud that descends upon our valley.”

“You’re right.” Sage nodded, conceding the point. “Nevertheless, I have good feelings about the healing center’s success. I think people who visit will be glad they came, and they’ll spread the word. I believe Celeste’s Angel Plan will put Eternity Springs on the map.”

“We’re already on the map,” Sarah countered. “Only problem is, we’re a speck of dust. A pinpoint. But maybe now that we have an angel dancing on the head of our pin, we’re going to grow to be a real dot. If we become a dot, maybe I can make a living here working only one job instead of two.”

Sarah owned the Trading Post, Eternity’s only grocery store, opened and operated by Sarah’s family since 1894. A single mother of a high school senior and staring college tuition in the face, Sarah had begun baking desserts for the Bristlecone Café about five years ago to supplement her income.

Curious, Sage asked, “So if you had a choice, would you rather quit baking or stop selling groceries?”

“Groceries,” Sarah answered in a heartbeat. “If I won the lottery tomorrow, I’d hire a manager for the store, build a commercial kitchen, and bake to my little heart’s content.” Noting Sage’s smile, she asked, “Does that surprise you?”

“Not at all. You are as much an artist with shortening and flour as I am with paint.”

Sarah preened a little bit. “That’s a lovely thing to say. Thank you.”

Both women turned their heads when a red BMW convertible pulled up beside them and stopped. The driver was Sarah’s daughter, Lori. Ali Timberlake’s son, Chase, a student at the University of Colorado at Boulder, sat in the passenger seat. The two had begun dating over the past summer when Chase worked at the Double R Ranch outside of town.

“Well, now,” Sarah said, her brows arching. “Does Ali know you’re driving her car, young woman?”

“Yes, of course.” Lori tucked a strand of long dark hair behind her ear and grinned. “Don’t I look good behind this wheel, Mama? I think I need a car like this to take off to college with me next year.”

“And I need Jimmy Choo shoes to wear next time I go mountain climbing, too. Now, where is Ali?”

“My mom is right behind you.” Chase hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “She said she’d rather walk. Good decision, I say. With all the traffic in town today, you walkers are liable to beat us there, anyway.”

Sage glanced back over her shoulder and saw Ali Timberlake approaching. As the convertible pulled away, she and Sarah waited for their friend. A frequent visitor to Eternity Springs, Ali lived in Denver with her husband, Mac, a federal court judge.