Page 76 of Mountain Summons

A few weeks earlier, the gallery owner, Madame Guillaume, had reached out to her. She’d been very apologetic—not that she had anything to apologize for. Apparently, shehadtold André she wanted to meet with Lena, but she’d suggested a later time, once she was back from Japan. Knowing the gallery would be empty was what had given André the idea, and so Madame Guillaume felt vaguely responsible for what had happened. Now, she wanted to display Lena’s photographs in a new exhibit. Lena had agreed, as long as they could turn it into an exhibit for the benefit of the PGHM. They might not raise enough to save Tristan’s helicopter, but they had to save Isolde’s therapy program. Now that Lena understood more about what Isolde had set up, there was no way they could let that program die, regardless of what ended up happening with the proposed budget cuts.

“Notbecause of the gallery exhibit,” he said firmly. “Though I think it’s a great idea. But I’ve always been proud of you. It’s just not … not something I’ve said before.”

“It’s nice to hear. Thank you,Papa.”

“So,” he said, his voice almost gruff. “You have everything?”

She didn’t have many things. She could probably have moved everything herself in two round trips, but Tristan had insisted on helping.

And there he was. He parked carefully behind her father’s car—he was still careful around her father, but she understood. This was all new, and they had to navigate both a professional and a personal relationship now—and stepped out onto the snow.

Lena didn’t wait for him to knock. She was done waiting for things. She opened the front door and rushed into Tristan’s arms. He caught her easily and held her against him for a few seconds before releasing her. “You look beautiful.”

She looked down at her outfit. She’d purposefully put on her rattiest pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, since she imagined everything was going to get dusty. “Right.”

“You’d better believe it, sweetheart. It has nothing to do with what you’re wearing.” He lowered his voice. “So. Am I going to have to fight your father for the right to take you away?”

Lena laughed. “No. Surprising, but he seems okay with this. Maybe he’s realized you’re a good guy?”

He took her hands in his, his expression surprisingly earnest. “I’m going to do everything I can to make you happy, Lena.”

“Lieutenant … Tristan,” her father said, stepping out onto his front porch and offering his hand.

“Colonel.” Tristan dipped his head and shook the colonel’s strong, weathered hand.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Lena shook her head. “It’s just a few boxes,Papa. We can do it.” She held on to Tristan’s hand. “But we would like you tocome to lunch on Sunday, so you can see our place.”Ourplace. The word was strange, but it felt right. “If you’re free,” she added lamely, because old habits died hard.

“I’m free. Let me know what time. I’ll be there.” Her father stepped forward and gave her a hug, holding her tighter than he’d done in years. Then he turned to Tristan and offered his hand. Lena saw something pass between the two men in that instant—something that warmed her, because these two men were the most important people in her life. “Call me if you need help with the move. I’m going to take Beaujoulais for a walk.”

Lena watched her father and the dog stroll away from the house. “Is he talking to the dog?” Tristan asked.

“Oh, he does that all the time,” Lena said. “You think he’s going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine. He knows you’re going to be living closer from now on than in the last few years.”

Lena nodded. For the first time in a long time, she actually believed that everything was going to be fine. Better than fine, even.

“What the hell is in this box?” Tristan complained.

For a moment, Lena was distracted by his flexing muscles. Yum. And to think that they were hers to touch … then she realized he was still waiting for an answer. “Oh, that’s a box of books. Save your energy, there’s a few of those.”

30

Tristan

Tristan had been to enough galleries and art shows growing up to know this wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time.

But tonight?

Tonight was different.

Because every single photograph on these walls had been taken by Lena. And even if he didn’t have the words for what the images made him feel, he still felt it. For the first time in his life, he understood his mother. Why she’d given everything up for Amaury Devallé.

Tonight, the place was packed. Conversations buzzed softly through the bright space, the sharp click of heels and the occasional clink of glass adding rhythm to the air.

Most people wanted to meet Lena. At the moment, she stood next to one of his favorite photographs, showing a frozen alpine lake, the ice smooth like glass, and, on the edge, animal tracks in the snow.

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