Page 85 of Love By a Landslide

The mid-summer sun was setting on another beautiful day in Leavenworth when Jonathan pulled into the gravel lot at Off the Beaten Adventures. His guides were rolling in and out of the office, closing out excursions, and dropping off gear to be put away for the night. He hopped out of the car and headed in the back door to check on the events of the day.

Janet feverishly plucked away on her keyboard with a stack of invoices to her left and a hot cup of tea to her right. No less than five pens stuck out of her frazzled gray bun as she squinted through her readers at the computer screen.

“Am I working you too hard?” Jonathan asked, leaning back against the front desk, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded. He took in her frantic pace and felt a pang of guilt.

His office manager’s attention remained on her work. She replied without turning, “Of course not, Johnny. Mayhem keeps me young.”

The hurricane of business hadn’t let up the whole summer. Every guide and excursion were booked from open to close through the end of September. Surprisingly, the commotion around the landslide and him and Lucy being stranded for a few days had boosted reservations. TheLeavenworth Tribuneeven ran a story about the incident, making Jonathan—against his adamant claims to the contrary—into a local hero and furtherbolstering the influx of customers.

“But you’d tell me if it got to be too much, right?” Janet had worked tirelessly for his family’s business since his father had opened it all those years ago, and he honestly didn’t know what he’d do without her. Still, when he saw her maniacally plugging away, he worried she was wasting her golden years in that stuffy office.

“I’m sure I would if it ever got to that point.” She hazarded a glance at the man she treated like family and grinned. “But I’ve never been there, so I wouldn’t know what to look for anyway.”

“Have you and Jerry decided where you’re going at the end of September?”

“Two-week Caribbean cruise.” She flipped over another invoice. “Try not to muck the place up too much while I’m gone.”

Jonathan raised both hands. “No, ma’am. We’ll keep everything tip-top ’til you return.” He looked around and turned back to Janet. “Have you seen my bratty sister?”

“Supply room.”

He followed the short hall and found Frankie, clipboard in hand, asking one of the newer guides how her climbing trip went. Waiting by the door, Jonathan stayed out of his sister’s way or “relinquished responsibility” like Dr. Reuben regularly reminded him to do.

A moment later, they were alone in the large room, and Jonathan knocked on the door frame. “How’d the rest of the day go?” he asked, doing his best to don his boss hat.

Frankie turned and smiled. “Great. How’d your session go?”

Over the last two months, Jonathan had been seeing a grief and trauma counselor to deal with his old (and more recent) emotional baggage. It was a struggle at first to open up to some random guy, but he found he gained a lot from each meeting and always left with a new tool to try out. Slowly, he was dealingwith everything he’d managed to bury over the last four years and forgive himself for what everyone else kept saying wasn’t his fault to begin with.

Cynthia’s death and Lucy’s accident.

“It was good.” Hands in his pockets, he shrugged noncommittally. “The usual: couch, tissues, tell me about your childhood. Blah, blah, blah.”

His sister stepped closer, brows furrowed. “Hey. Therapy won’t do you any good if you don’t take it seriously.”

“I know, and I am. Just being dumb.”

“I worry about you.” She walked over and squeezed her brother in a quick side hug. “But lucky you, you’re just in time to help me finish inventory.”

An hour later, they locked up the darkened building.

“Night, sis,” Jonathan waved as he strode to his car.

“Have you called her yet?”

He stopped, shoulders tense, but didn’t turn around. “You know I haven’t.”

“Fucking idiot,” she muttered under her breath yet intentionally loud enough so he’d hear. She’d asked him the same question every day since Lucy had left town.

“Francesca.” He finally faced her. “She doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“I get that youthinkthat, but I don’t know why you do.”

“Because I hurt her.” His voice rose, feeling gravely in his throat. He relived that moment multiple times a day. The very second when Lucy’s heart busted in two and he ran out of her room like a coward. He should have stayed with her. Should have fought his inner demons and found a way to keep her in his life. But, alas . . . coward.

“And she’ll forgive you. If your connection was as once-in-a-lifetime, hills-are-alive-with-musicmagical like Three Beer Jonathan keeps confessing to me, then she feels it too.” She marched around the car, standing toe to toe with her much larger brother, volume matching his. “Don’t you owe it to her to see whatshewants? She went through a lot too. It wasn’t just you out there.”

“Her boyfriend showed up at the hospital. She’s not even single anymore.”

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