Cold River - Carla Neggers [125]
“My father told me about your father,” Jo said, less combative. “I didn’t look him up. He also said your dad’s death was an accident.”
Her comment seemed to come out of the blue, but not, as far as Grit could see, to Hannah. It was something she seemed to need to hear and Jo seemed to need to tell her. “Your father, Jo—”
“He was the first law enforcement officer on scene after the accident. Your dad wasn’t in any trouble and hadn’t been since your brothers were born. I know you know that,” Jo added. “I just want you to know that I do, too.”
Liam O’Rourke delivered a round of drinks on the house. “Your dad was the love of your mom’s life, Hannah. She missed him, but she carried on without him.”
Hannah finally spoke. “My mother, Devin, Toby and I all had some good times together.” She seemed to consider whether she should reveal this much of herself. “Before she died, she asked us to remember her and love her always but to have good times again. We have, too. We’ve had some great times.”
Grit understood what she was saying, and he thought everyone at the table did, too. The people who’d known and loved Drew Cameron best, especially his four children, would miss him, but they’d have good times again.
Liam set the glasses on the table and addressed Hannah. “I remember you out on the common with Devin and Toby when you were first trying to get them under control. You had the snowball fight from hell. They had you outnumbered, and they were sneaky little rascals, but you didn’t back down.”
Elijah raised his glass and grinned. “That’s our Hannah.”
She said nothing, just smiled as she sat close to Sean, his two older brothers right there.
Jo glanced at Grit, then grinned at the three Cameron brothers. “Speaking of snowball fights…” she said, taking a sip of her beer and rising. “Who’s game?”
Elijah was the first to his feet and led the way, all of them ending up on the town common, across from Three Sisters Café.
Snow was falling, just wet enough to hold together.
Grit knew who threw the first snowball, but he was an outsider and didn’t say. Even Myrtle joined in with her purple gloves.
Rose arrived a few minutes after the snowball fight started and walked across the common with her golden retriever. She didn’t say a word, just scooped up a handful of snow, fashioned it into a fist-size snowball and hurled it, striking Sean in the shoulder. He pivoted and nailed her with a snowball of his own.
Ranger obviously loved snow and dived into the fun.
Grit didn’t love snow, but when he got beaned by an unrepentant Jo Harper, he made his first snowball.
When he threw it at her, he realized they both were laughing.
Bowie entered O’Rourke’s. Sean had spotted him after the snowball fight had broken up, with no clear winners, and come over by himself. It was late, and he was tired. Hannah had gone home to take a hot shower, complaining—teasing—because her apartment didn’t have a bathtub.
Liam tapped a thick finger on the bar. “Any punches thrown in here will be mine. Understood?” He turned back to his work before either Sean or Bowie responded.
Bowie sat on the stool next to Sean. “You’re thickheaded, Cameron, but you and your brothers didn’t do anything stupid that night.”
“None of us would have let Hannah get hurt.”
“Or hurt anyone,” Bowie said dryly. “Thanks for saving my life today.”
“I like to think you’d have done the same for me.”
“Yeah.” Bowie grinned at Sean. “Probably.”
“My father didn’t come to any of us with his concerns. My brothers, Rose, me. You. I wish he had. He was in Washington talking to Ambassador Bruni and never said a word to Jo, just had her go with him to see the cherry blossoms.”
“What could any of you have done?”
“Hiked up the mountain with him in April. Been there when those two came after him. Stopped them.”
“Yeah,” Bowie said. “You could have