Page 59 of Mountain Summons

“Of course, you should go. But don’t you think I should stay?—“

“Come with me. Please.”

“Come on, guys,” Ry called. “Hugo’s grilling steak.”

Steak?Lena looked out the window.In the snow?

23

Lena

Apparently itwaspossible to grill in the snow. It just required one person—or in this case a few—crazy enough to stand out there in a T-shirt until the meat was ready.

Lena stood at the window, watching as Tristan, Hugo, Ry, and Alex huddled around the grill like it was a campfire. Around them, everything was covered in snow, but they’d cleared up a narrow path between them and the house. Smoke curled into the crisp air, carried sideways by the wind, and despite the ridiculousness of the whole scene, they looked—content.

“Can you tell me what they’re doing?” asked a soft, husky voice behind her.

That was Jo, Hugo’s wife. Hugo’sverypregnant wife. Lena glanced at her and felt that familiar flicker of awe. If she were in Jo’s shoes—unable to see, carrying a child, navigating this room full of noise and motion—would she have the courage to ask that same question?

“Your husband mans the tongs with the gravity of a man performing open-heart surgery.” Lena waited for Jo’s laughter to die down before going on. “Ry is standing next to him. I think he’s telling them some story, judging by his hand gestures. Alex is standing further back. He looks like he’s calculating the distance to the fire. And Tristan?—”

Lena trailed off. Tristan leaned against the outside table, arms folded, face tilted up towards the night sky. His mouth moved, laughing at something the others said, and the sound didn’t quite carry, but she could imagine the sound. She knew what his laughter felt like now.

Most of all, Tristan looked focused.Alive.

He didn’t look like a man who’d been in a helicopter crash just weeks earlier.

“Yes?” Jo asked. A small, knowing smile played on her lips. “You were saying?”

Lena licked her lips. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jo said, her smile widening.

“I amsohungry,” a soft voice said behind them. Lena turned to see the redheaded doctor who’d helped her out at the hospital after Tristan’s accident.

“Val. Hi. I don’t know if you remember me, I’m?—“

“Lena. Of course I remember you. How are you doing?”

“I never said thank you. For your help.”

Val’s expression softened. “It’s more than okay. I was happy to help. Tristan’s part of the family.”

“They’re all family,” another voice said. Yvette wore a bright lime green top and jeans that looked airbrushed on. Lena blinked at her beauty, but the woman’s smile was easy, warm. “Nice to see you again, Lena. I take it you and Tristan?—”

Jo came to Lena’s rescue, stepping in smoothly. “Come on, Yvette. Leave the interrogation for another time. Let’s go make some salad, in case they burn everything out there.”

As they opened the door to the kitchen, a warm scent hit them—of rosemary, garlic, and something golden and rich in the oven.

“What’s that smell, Jo?”

“I’m making focaccia. I’ve been craving carbs like crazy. It should be just about ready to come out of the oven.”

“Surely that’s the advantage of being pregnant,” Val said. “You can feed the cravings.”

Jo touched her rounded stomach. “I’m not sure I should be feeding them quite so enthusiastically. I already look like I swallowed a basketball, and I still have seven weeks to go.”

“You look great, Jo,” Val said.

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