your kids, they won't buy it."
"My wife's life hangs in the balance, and they won't buy it? Fuck them."
"Do that, and they'll take their business elsewhere." Jack ran a hand around the back of his neck. The muscles there were wire tight. "Let them."
"Y'know, pal, I'd have said the same thing a little while back, but right now I'm worried about Sung and McGill. This is a major project for the firm. Two others went with our associates who went out on their own last month."
"We still have more than we can handle."
"But this is a good one, " David coaxed. "We've been doing educational institutions for years, but resorts are hot and lucrative. We're talking jumping to a new level.
We can't let a project like this go by default."
"Then you take it over."
"Hell, I'd have done that weeks ago, only they want you. They want you, and you've lost your edge." Jack was suddenly so weary that his bones ached. "I can't handle this now. Tell them . . . whatever, but I can't be at that meeting. I'll call in when I know more." He hung up the phone, knowing that his partner would be swearing and not wanting to hear it. Dealing with Rachel's accident, dealing with his daughters�trying not to think about the future�was all he could handle just then.
But Rachel and the girls were all sleeping. Stretching out on the sofa, with one arm over his eyes and one on his stomach, he followed suit.
HOPE came awake as she always did, slowly growing aware, getting a feel for morning before she opened her eyes, listening and thinking before she moved a muscle. She felt bits of sun, weak but warm. She listened to the soft sound of Guinevere's breathing close behind her neck. She began to think�and her eyes flew open.
Swinging her head around, cheek into cat fur, she saw her sister sleeping beside her, and it was suddenly real, what had happened last night. Samantha hadn't slept with her in years. She would have thought it beneath her, if things had been less scary.
Guinevere tipped back her head and gave her a nudge.
She nuzzled the cat for a minute, gathering courage. Moving the mattress as little as possible, she sat up and carefully drew the tabby into her arms. Silently, she backed off the bed and started for the door.
Stopping suddenly, she returned, pushed her feet into her cowboy boots, and tiptoed from the room.
The sight of her father in the living room brought instant relief. She had wanted him there so badly. Samantha had said he wouldn't come �that he hadn't been there when they needed him for axes, that he was too busy with work. But Hope had sensed he would come. She did that sometimes�sensed things�and it wasn't necessarily wanting that brought it. She had sensed that something was wrong long before Katherine had called looking for Rachel, had felt an unease when her mother left.
She had thought it was about Guinevere. The vet had warned that the end would be silent and swift, and Hope was prepared. She had been the one to insist that Guinevere die at home, with her. But she wanted her mother to be there when it happened.
It wasn't until Samantha had said into the phone, "Hi, Katherine, " that Hope connected the eerie feeling inside with her mom's wellbeing, and then it was like the bottom had dropped out of her world. She had felt the same thing when they moved to Big Sur without her father�shaky, like she was suddenly standing on only one leg.
Lowering herself to the rug not far from her father, she folded her legs and gently settled Guinevere in her T-shirted lap. The tabby looked up at her, purring softly. Hope imagined that Guinevere felt the same reassurance seeing her as she felt seeing her father.
Only, he didn't look very well, she decided. His hair was messy and his beard prickly. The shadows under his eyes said that he hadn't slept much, which made her nervous.
But he was sleeping now. That said something. If Rachel was dead, he would have woken them right up�wouldn't he have? If she was dead, he would
"My wife's life hangs in the balance, and they won't buy it? Fuck them."
"Do that, and they'll take their business elsewhere." Jack ran a hand around the back of his neck. The muscles there were wire tight. "Let them."
"Y'know, pal, I'd have said the same thing a little while back, but right now I'm worried about Sung and McGill. This is a major project for the firm. Two others went with our associates who went out on their own last month."
"We still have more than we can handle."
"But this is a good one, " David coaxed. "We've been doing educational institutions for years, but resorts are hot and lucrative. We're talking jumping to a new level.
We can't let a project like this go by default."
"Then you take it over."
"Hell, I'd have done that weeks ago, only they want you. They want you, and you've lost your edge." Jack was suddenly so weary that his bones ached. "I can't handle this now. Tell them . . . whatever, but I can't be at that meeting. I'll call in when I know more." He hung up the phone, knowing that his partner would be swearing and not wanting to hear it. Dealing with Rachel's accident, dealing with his daughters�trying not to think about the future�was all he could handle just then.
But Rachel and the girls were all sleeping. Stretching out on the sofa, with one arm over his eyes and one on his stomach, he followed suit.
HOPE came awake as she always did, slowly growing aware, getting a feel for morning before she opened her eyes, listening and thinking before she moved a muscle. She felt bits of sun, weak but warm. She listened to the soft sound of Guinevere's breathing close behind her neck. She began to think�and her eyes flew open.
Swinging her head around, cheek into cat fur, she saw her sister sleeping beside her, and it was suddenly real, what had happened last night. Samantha hadn't slept with her in years. She would have thought it beneath her, if things had been less scary.
Guinevere tipped back her head and gave her a nudge.
She nuzzled the cat for a minute, gathering courage. Moving the mattress as little as possible, she sat up and carefully drew the tabby into her arms. Silently, she backed off the bed and started for the door.
Stopping suddenly, she returned, pushed her feet into her cowboy boots, and tiptoed from the room.
The sight of her father in the living room brought instant relief. She had wanted him there so badly. Samantha had said he wouldn't come �that he hadn't been there when they needed him for axes, that he was too busy with work. But Hope had sensed he would come. She did that sometimes�sensed things�and it wasn't necessarily wanting that brought it. She had sensed that something was wrong long before Katherine had called looking for Rachel, had felt an unease when her mother left.
She had thought it was about Guinevere. The vet had warned that the end would be silent and swift, and Hope was prepared. She had been the one to insist that Guinevere die at home, with her. But she wanted her mother to be there when it happened.
It wasn't until Samantha had said into the phone, "Hi, Katherine, " that Hope connected the eerie feeling inside with her mom's wellbeing, and then it was like the bottom had dropped out of her world. She had felt the same thing when they moved to Big Sur without her father�shaky, like she was suddenly standing on only one leg.
Lowering herself to the rug not far from her father, she folded her legs and gently settled Guinevere in her T-shirted lap. The tabby looked up at her, purring softly. Hope imagined that Guinevere felt the same reassurance seeing her as she felt seeing her father.
Only, he didn't look very well, she decided. His hair was messy and his beard prickly. The shadows under his eyes said that he hadn't slept much, which made her nervous.
But he was sleeping now. That said something. If Rachel was dead, he would have woken them right up�wouldn't he have? If she was dead, he would
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