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Authors: Patria L. Dunn

Goldilocks

BOOK: Goldilocks
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Goldilocks

 

By

 

Patria L Dunn

(Patria Dunn-Rowe)

Copyright © 2013 Patria L. Dunn (Patria Dunn-Rowe)

Goldilocks

 

All rights reserved

This book is a work of fiction, and should be read as such. While names of places used may truly exist, they should not be held to a ‘real life’ standard. The author does not intend to represent any person, place or thing, as this work was created from imagination and fantasy, and should be enjoyed as such. Any questions should be emailed directly to the author at
[email protected]
.

#happyreading

The right Patria L. Dunn (Patria Dunn-Rowe) to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

 

Acknowledgements

A sincere thank you to Steven Novak, the creator of the Goldilocks book cover. You took my random vision and brought it to life. To Christine M. Butler, fellow author and dear friend, thank you for believing that I would finish this crazy idea of a story, even though it seemed I never would.

Prologue

It had been five years since his wife was brutally murdered, and it was five years too long to have clung to the pla
ce she’d been buried in, but neither of those facts was making his decision to leave any easier. The midnight view of downtown D.C. was deceivingly inviting from the fourteenth floor apartment window Paul Adler leaned against. Millions of stars, dotted upon a rich moonlit sky, served as the perfect backdrop to the landscape of historic buildings twinkling below, the nightlife crowd just starting to emerge. From the dress of some of the club goers he spotted passing by the entrance to his apartment building, it seemed to be the perfect night for a stroll, but he knew from coming in only a few hours before, that the mid-summer season still had the entire east coach in its clutches, the air so sticky and humid in the nation’s capital that the ever present thin layer of smog clouding the city seemed to cling to his lungs with each inhaled breath. He had been glad to get home out of the heat, the work clothes he traveled in, drenched with sweat by the time he’d shed them in favor of a cool shower and the cotton shorts he wore now.

His flight
had been delayed by two hours due to engine trouble, but that had given him time to think more about the offer he’d received while inspecting the closed gold mine in Lancaster, South Carolina. Travelling for work had offered him an escape from the reminder the streets of D.C. brought him, but it was his daughter Hannah who had suffered during his long absences. Paul’s sister-in-law, Maggie, had brought it to his attention that his little girl was no longer a little girl and still suffering emotionally from her mother’s death. Guilt had pushed him to seek a more permanent position with the mining association he worked for, but he hadn’t thought an offer would come so quickly. It wasn’t official yet, but his boss had assured him that it was pretty much a done deal if he wanted it.

Anything for Hannah

Paul released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. There was nothing left in D.C. for either of them, except Maggie, and that’s what airplanes were for. At seventeen, Hannah was old enough to stay by herself most of the time now, but Maggie had been the one to fill her dead sister’s shoes over the last five years, practically living in their apartment when Paul was away, making sure that Hannah went to school, and handling any emergencies that arose in his absence. It wasn’t fair for Paul to ask so much of her, but he hadn’t asked; it had just happened that way and he’d let it.

He hadn’t realized it
, until he was away on this past business trip, but he missed his daughter. He missed her smile and he missed the talks they use to have when she was little. It was his fault that she’d turned into a shell of the girl that he once gave piggy back rides to through the living room, their now rare conversations consisting mostly of one word answers and ending in awkward hugs these days. She deserved more than that. She deserved to have her father back.

Paul
pushed from the narrow waist to ceiling window letting the long curtains fall back into place, his living room once again shrouded in comfortable dimness. Barefoot, he padded softly down the one and only hall in the apartment, passing his own bedroom to continue on to the partially closed door at the end. The hinges squeaked softly in protest as he pushed his head through, widening the crack, but the lump under the pastel purple comforter didn’t move. Tufts of honey gold hair were barely visible beneath a protective arm that lazed across his daughter’s sleeping face, her brows drawn tight as if she were having a bad dream.

Instinctively he stepped inside her room, wanting to go to her bedside and smooth the worries away from her forehead with a kiss, but
the ringing of his cell phone, still on the living room coffee table, stopped him short. There were only two people in his life that would call him this late, and he could almost bet it wasn’t Maggie. They’d spoken on the phone when he’d landed and she’d informed him on their goodbyes that she’d be turning in for the night. That only left his boss, who’d said he’d touch base as soon as he had a definite answer to give him.

“Mike. Hi…” Paul sighed heavily into the phone as he flipped it open, his ey
es falling on the family photo in the center of the coffee table. It had been taken almost seven years ago. Hannah was only ten years old then, her long spindly arms wrapped around his wife’s neck in a crushing hug. Elizabeth had smiled wide anyway, looking slightly up at Paul who had been laughing at the two of them.

Time to let go of the past…

“I’m sorry to call so late, but I just heard back from LKA International. They own the mine in Nevada I was telling you about.”

“And…” Paul gritted his teeth in anticipation, almost dreading what would come next.

“They’ve already given the inspector position to someone else.”

“Ah Come on Mike! You call me in the middle of the night for this…”

“Hold on just a sec,” Paul’s boss stopped him mid rant, waiting until the line was silent between them before he continued. “They want, no, they
need
you at another mine they own in Colorado: Golden Wonder…”

“Colorado!”

“It’s closer to D.C. than Nevada Paul; the responsibility is greater, and so is the pay. There are a few details that we should discuss, but I’m thinking this will be a good fit for you
and
Hannah. You would be your own boss there, make your own hours, and get away from traveling at the same time. It’s not permanent like you wanted, but it’ll be for at least a year, maybe more. Housing is provided, and so are utilities, which saves you the hassle of having to find a place. The mine has had a few tunnels collapse over the last couple weeks and they don’t want it to close again after just getting it reopened. They want you up there as soon as possible, but if you need a couple weeks…”

“I
need
a couple weeks Mike. I can’t uproot Hannah and move tomorrow. She’ll need at least that to get used to the idea.”

“But it’s a
yes then?” Mike pushed, holding his breath when the line went silent for a moment.

“Colorado, huh
?” Paul finally said, his free hand running through his shaggy blonde hair.

He’d wrapped his mind around Nevada. The city would have been close enough to the mine for them to get out of the desert every once in a while, b
ut from what little he knew of the Golden Wonder mine, there was nothing but mountains, trees, and more mountains. Hannah wouldn’t like that. She’d grown up in the city.

“I guess if that’s all they’re offering…”

“It is, for now,” Mike confirmed, rushing on. “After a year there, I’ll put out some feelers for you if you want to leave, but if you’re looking for stability…”

“I am
.”

“Then I’ll get back to them first thing in the morning.”

“Do you need me in for the paperwork?”

“It would make things go a little bit faster if you could. I know you just got back…”

“I’ll be there,” Paul sighed into the phone, then snapped it closed and shook his head.

Hannah Adler watched from the shadows of the hall as her father plopped down on their plush living room sofa, and grabbed the family photo that hadn’t been moved si
nce being put on the table years ago.

She didn’t want to move. Aunt Maggie was here, and so were her chances of qualifying for a cross country scholarship at Woodrow Wilson High School. It was her senior year, and it wasn’t fair.

She thought about saying as much, but letting her father know how she felt now would mean that she’d have to admit that she’d been eavesdropping, which would also mean that he’d figure out that she was only pretending to be sleep when he’d come to check on her just a few minutes before.

It could wait until morning.

Because I’m not going…
Hannah decided as she tipped quietly back to her room.

Her mom was here. It was the only thing that gave Hannah solace when her dad was away for so long. How would her mom ever watch over her in Colorado
? D.C. was their home, and she wasn’t leaving.

 

 

Chapter 1:

Hannah turned her face to the open window of her father’s Audi A8,
refusing to acknowledge the cheery act he was trying to put on for her sake. They’d argued more in the last two weeks, than they’d talked in the last two months, and Hannah wasn’t done sulking over the move. She was practically an adult, a rising senior and would be star athlete had he not snatched the one and only dream she’d managed to cling to since her mother’s death. It wasn’t fair. Begging hadn’t work, pleading hadn’t worked, and neither had her tears. It had taken all of a week to pack up their cozy apartment and ready it for the movers, her most cherished memories now wrapped in cellophane, neatly labeled and stacked in crush proof boxes for the twenty-nine hour trip.

She wanted to be mad at her Aunt Maggie for going behind her back and talking to her dad. It was true that she still missed her mother, and it was also true that she longed for her father when he was away, even if it was only to have his presence in the apartment with her, but those feelings had been private, and she’d only shared them because she thought they would stay that way. Maggie had no right to suggest that their relationship needed repairing, but she’d only been trying to help. She loved Hannah like she was her own daughter, and for that Hannah forgave her. It was her fathe
r she was mad at.

He didn’t have to take the job in Colorado. She would have been happy just spending a few more days a week with him, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted things to go back to the way they used to be: pancakes together for breakfast with slices of bananas made into a smile just for her, dinner -at the table -as a family every night of the week, movie nights, and popcorn fights when she least expected it. Those were good times…happier times. But that was also when her mother had been alive, and now she wasn’t. Thing
s were never going to go back to the way they used to be.

“Look
,” Paul pointed to the rectangular highway sign they were speeding past. “Only another twenty-five miles to Lake City. We’ll be home in another hour or so…” his words trailed off as Hannah turned her face further into the wind, ignoring him.

“You can’t not talk to me forever sweetie,” Paul tried, his
right hand settling briefly on her knee before returning to the steering wheel. “We’ve been driving for two days. You barely said five words to me at the hotel last night, and I don’t think I’ve even heard you speak since we packed up the car this morning. I’m doing this for us… Please try and understand that.”

“Why should I?” Hannah shrugged, refusing to look at her father. “You didn’t try and understand why I didn’t want to leave D.C., Aunt Maggie, my school…”

“That’s enough Hannah. We are not having this conversation again. Home is where you and I are. Aunt Maggie can come and visit any time she wants, and you can go visit her…”

“Now?” Hannah snapped, turning her tear filled green eyes towards her father.

“Well no, not now, but…”

“You’re so selfish!” Hannah accused, throwing her hand out the window. “I haven’t seen any signs of civilization in over an hour! And what was that we just passed on the side of the road back there? A moose!? Don’t tell me that this was the only job you could have taken! D.C. is full of jobs…”

“Not like mine, and for the umpteenth time, yes…it was the only job that I could have taken that will allow us to spend more time together. I’m not expecting you to love it right away. It’s going to be a big adjustment for the both of us, I know that,” Paul sighed, his fingers gripped tightly on the wheel now to keep from reaching across and wiping away the single tear on his daughter’s cheek. “All I’m asking you to do is try. A year at the most, and if you still don’t like it then..”

“A year!” Hannah laughed dryly, turning her face into the wind again. “I graduate in a year, or did you forget that dad?”

She flinched as she let the stinging words fly, immediately sorry for sounding so cold. She loved her father, and she should have been glad that his job no longer required him to travel, but Colorado…

“I’m sorry,”
she murmured, glancing back at him and then out at the never ending span of trees that seemed to make up every inch of the scenery here. “It’s just…”

“It’s just that mom is back there…and…you miss her,” Paul said quietly, his hand trembling slightly as he squeezed hers once. “I miss her too, but I promise you Hannah, I never want to see you unhappy. I
wouldn’t do this to hurt you…”

“I know,” Hannah cut him off with a sigh. “
I guess I can run cross country anywhere; it’s just that Woodrow Wilson had a good program. Qualifying for states this year would have meant a guaranteed scholarship. Who knows if this high school even has a cross country team, much less…”

“They do!” Paul smiled, glad that he had checked beforehand. “And you’re going to be amazing honey. I know it.”

It wasn’t much, but his confidence in her forced the smallest of smiles onto Hannah’s lips, her eyes meeting his before sliding back to the road ahead. Her father was right about one thing. She couldn’t stay mad at him forever; he was the only person she knew out here. She’d have no choice but to talk to him sooner or later, and his effort was making it harder and harder for her to hold a grudge.

It wasn’t a conversation exactly, but it was progress, and he didn’t want to rush it. He could deal with her continued silence, knowing that a small crack had
been made in the wall she’d put up between them over the last week. Whatever worries Hannah had about their new life in Colorado, he had tenfold. Not only was he starting a new job, but this was his last chance to fix things between the two of them. She was all he had, and all that mattered.

He drove and she stared blankly, lost in her thoughts, oblivious to the breathtaking beauty of the mountains cropping up around them. He’d asked for time, and he would give her the same, at least until they made it to the next town over. The outskirts of Lake City breezed by in a flash, Hannah’s interest only piqued once again, when he slowed the car at a small wooden sign on the side of the road.

“Welcome to Hinsdale,” Hannah read the hand carved words in confusion, her eyes now focused on the small town just ahead. “What happened to Lake City?”

“It’s just back there,” Paul commented, dropping the Audi’s speed from a smooth fifty-five to almost a crawl.

“Well then you passed it, what are we doing in…Hinsdale?” Hannah recalled the name, her eyes widening at the tiny row of short brick buildings to their right.

“The house is actually in Hinsdale, not Lake City.”

“But you said…”

“It’s a fifteen minute difference, give or take,” Paul shrugged, slowing even more so that he cou
ld read the sign on each building.

Mike had said it was a small town, but he didn’t say it was this small. There was only a hundred yard stretch of buildings actually there, no stoplights and no gas stations that he could see. One newer structure stood out among all the rest, a gigantic wooden arrow pointing the way to a one stop shop that could have possibly been a remodeled barn of sorts.

“Hinsdale Feed, Supply, Grocer, Gas and 4x4 rental!” Hannah read in alarm, her eyes widening at the bright red words painted on at the bottom. “We sell tires, guns, and electronics too! You’ve got to be kidding me!”


Everything in one place. I kind of like it,” Paul nodded firmly, turning the luxury car into the graveled parking lot.”

“Don’t tell me this i
s it. No 7-11, No Wal-Mart, No…” Hannah grabbed her father’s arm in disbelief, her head whipping around in the direction that they’d just come. “This isn’t it…right?” she searched his face for a hint of humor, but found none, his brows knitted as he peered out the window again.

“Only one way to find out,” Paul shrugged, grabbing the map he
’d stuffed into the console before leaving D.C.

Hannah watched as he climbed from the car and stretched away the aches the last leg of their drive had created. He didn’t seem at all fazed by the fact that they’d left civilization somewhere back in the
last hundred miles of roadway they’d traveled. He’d said mountains, not wilderness. Her eyes swept the length of buildings again, alarmed to see that the few people out and about had all stopped to stare at them, one little boy pointing at the car.

“Dad! Wait!” Hannah called as she shoved her
iPod and tablet underneath the pillow she had sitting on the backseat.

“Well come on then slow poke,” he joked, watching as she
climbed slowly from the car, her hands immediately thrown up to shield her eyes from the bright sun.

“More like welcome to ghost t
own,” Hannah muttered, turning her back so that she was facing the entrance to the one stop shop.

“You said you would try,” Paul reminded her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder as they met at the front of the car.

“I’m
trying
,” Hannah shook her head, allowing herself to be ushered across the dusty lot towards the store.

A cowbell jangled overhead the second the steel framed glass door swung open, giving her pause as she peered into the wide open space before them. Had it not been for her dad’s hand on the small of her back pushing her forward she might have turned around and went straight back to wait in the car.

Hannah had never been one of those high maintenance girls that bought everything she owned from a fancy store at the mall. She didn’t even wear makeup and certainly wasn’t snobby, but she had also never been anywhere other than a city, and never in a store like this.

Old hard wood floor boards lined the warehouse sized space, creaking w
ith every step they took towards the lone cash register centered on the front wall. Industrial sized steel shelving ran row after row from front to back and side to side, the signs hanging above them labeling everything the billboard out front offered and more.

“Are you seeing this?” Hannah elbowed her father in the sid
e, her eyes locking with a woman over in the clothing section, who’d stopped what she was doing to stare at them.

“You must be the new mine inspector?” A voice boomed from behind them, and they both turned to see a short stocky man approaching them, a wide smile on his face.

“How’d you know?” Paul extended his hand in greeting, introducing himself and Hannah.

The man introduced himself as Sam, looking them both over before continuing past them towards the register.

“Not too many fancy cars, like the one you’re driving, around these parts. Only four paved roads in the county and you can see why. You wouldn’t make it halfway around the loop in that thing.”

“Only four paved roads?” Hannah echoed him, her question sounding as fore
ign as the concept of such a thing.

“I’m sorry, the loop?” Paul questioned, stepping up to the counter as Sam went around to th
e other side to pull a map off the wall.

“We have more than four roads,” Sam told Hannah. “But most of them are old mine trails, dirt packed and impassible in anything less than a 4x4, which is why…”

“You rent them here,” Paul nodded in understanding, his brow furrowing again like it did when he was deep in thought. “I guess not many people come through here as unprepared as we are. I took the job on a short notice, and didn’t have time to really do my research like I wanted to. We have movers bringing our stuff in a day or two. We drove from D.C., and I just wasn’t thinking that…”

“I can store that c
ar of yours here, and let you take Big Red. Big Blue is out of commission right now, but Big Red will get you over the pass and over to the cabin.”

“Cabin?!” Hannah’s eyes jerked up from the tank of live fish bait she’d been watching, widening as she looked to her father.

“You’re going to be staying at old man Jacobs’ place right?” Sam asked, spreading out the small hand drawn map he still held in his hand. “That thing won’t be any help around here,” Sam pointed to the crumpled Colorado state map clutched in Paul’s fist. “This here outlines this immediate area, and you’re going to need it to find where you’re going. No one’s even been out to the Jacobs place since he up and ran off a few years ago. I think his children came and cleaned out his stuff, but that’s about it.”

“I think I’m going to need uh…Big Red…
” Paul cleared his throat, ignoring the look of disbelief Hannah had plastered on her face. “And some directions to the uh…the cabin,” he shook his head, leaning over the counter as Sam began highlighting the roads they needed to follow.

“Aunt Maggie isn’t going to believe this one,” Hannah muttered under her breath, blowing her long thick bang from off her forehead as she sighed heavily.

While her dad and Sam talked supplies, cars and mine stuff, she wandered along the far wall, looking over the different antique signs hung there. In the middle was a wooden plaque, plated in gold, the name of the town emblazoned across the top.

“Population eight hundred and fifty,” she read the very first line and turned away with a shake of her head.

There would have been about that many in her graduating class at Woodrow Wilson High School back in D.C.. No point in depressing herself with more details about the town that was going to be her home now. One thing she wouldn’t have to worry about any longer was her father pressing her to make friends. She hadn’t had any back in D.C.. She was the quiet girl in school, only interacting with her cross country teammates during practice and meets, never afterschool and never on the weekends. Hannah preferred it that way. Aunt Maggie had been enough to keep her company, and on the occasions that she’d burst into tears for no reason, she never had to explain to her aunt the cause for them. She knew and understood, never pressing Hannah to talk about it, knowing that her sister’s death was still taking its toll on her, even five years later.

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