What?!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ruby

  Stopping at the front desk on her way up to the third floor, Ruby says, “Hey, Chris, do you have a sec?”

  Chris turns around. “Sure, Rubes, what’s up?”

  “Trouble.” Ruby leans in and whispers, “The press have arrived in Spartan.”

  “Is that code for something?” Chris asks, more than a bit confused.

  “Some photographer went to James’s house this morning. He was there with Tara’s mom.”

  “Why was Tara’s mom with him?”

  “James was going to show her around town after letting his plumber in. The guy must have followed Gwen from LA.”

  “Well, crap. How is Tara going to keep her secret if the press is here?”

  “I have a plan, but in the meantime, we need to close ranks. All food ordered from room service needs to be taken up by staff we know well. I know that’s a pain, but the fewer people who see into that room, the better. I’ll put a tag on the room requesting no maid service.”

  “Maybe it’s better to use one of the cabins,” Chris suggests.

  “I thought about that, but there’s more protection here in the lodge than there would be in the woods.”

  Shaking her head, Chris says, “Poor Tara.”

  “As long as she’s willing to stay here for a while, my plan might just work.”

  James

  “What do you mean you don’t think he’s dead?” Tara demands. “Did you shoot the guy?”

  “Why would I shoot him?” Does she really think I’d shoot someone? I’m not above scaring him with an unloaded rifle, but I’d never shoot him.

  “Then what did you mean when you said that you don’t think he’s dead?” Her hands are on her hips like she’s about to send me to the principal’s office.

  “He followed your mom and me from my farm. He was waiting at the end of the driveway and he stayed right on my tail, so I decided to have some fun with him. I turned off the main road onto a dirt road that most folks don’t know about. I took the turn pretty fast and he missed it, landing himself in a ditch by the side of the road.”

  “Did you stop to make sure he was okay?”

  “I was going to, but a sheriff’s car was right behind him. By the time I turned around, they were already getting out of their vehicle to help.”

  Gwen interjects, “I hope he got a concussion and forgets who he is. That man has been pestering me since the day you and Romaine broke up.”

  Tara shakes her head and lets her shoulders sag dejectedly. “What am I supposed to do now?” she asks no one in particular.

  “I think you need to move into the lodge,” my mom tells her.

  “You mean lock myself in like I’m in prison?”

  “It’s a pretty nice prison,” her mom says.

  Tara looks around the suite we’re standing in before saying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  “Honey,” my mom tells her, “it is a prison, but if we can convince that man there’s nothing of interest here, maybe he’ll give up and go home.”

  “I’ll stay at your place,” Gwen interjects. “He can photograph me coming and going as much as he wants.”

  “What if he stops you and asks why you’re in Oregon?” Tara asks.

  I answer for her. “She can tell him that she’s consulting with my mom on expanding the gift shop.” Then I look at my mom and say, “Gwen owned a gift shop in LA.”

  “How do you explain my mom being at your house if she’s consulting here at the lodge?”

  “I’m also consulting with James about adding a gift shop to his farmstand,” Gwen answers.

  Now that’s a great idea, and I say as much. “I’ve been looking for ways to make a passive income, Gwen. Maybe you can give me some pointers.”

  “I’d be delighted to!” she answers enthusiastically.

  “The suite is beautiful,” Tara says as she walks toward the window overlooking the woods.

  “I’ll go back to your place and pack some things for you,” Gwen tells her.

  “Don’t bring a lot,” Tara says. “That way if he spots you, he won’t guess what you’re doing.”

  My mom interjects, “I think it’s best if you don’t go down to work until we have a chance to scope out the hotel and make sure he’s not staying here. Do you know the man’s name?”

  Gwen and Tara both shake their heads. Tara says, “It wouldn’t matter if we did. Scum like him use all kinds of fake names and ID to keep from being identified.”

  My mom says, “I’ll bring up some basic groceries that you can keep here in the refrigerator. Then I’ll tell Geoffrey that you had a family emergency and need to take a few days off.”

  Tara paces around nervously. “I have responsibilities. Not only do I have every day menu items that need to be prepared, but Thanksgiving is coming up, and then there’s that wedding the day after.”

  “Henry and Geoffrey will take care of everything,” my mom tells her.

  Tara looks around in a borderline panic. “So that’s it? I’m stuck in this room?”

  “You have three rooms,” I point out. “The living room, the kitchen, and the bedroom.” She rolls her eyes at me. I ask, “Will you keep an eye on Penny for a bit? I need to go home and see about getting a home equity loan so I can make all the repairs to my plumbing.”

  My mom speaks up, “I’ll give you the loan and then you don’t have to bother with all that paperwork and interest.”

  “Mom, I’m almost thirty-two years old,” I tell her.

  “And?”

  “I’m too old to be taking money from my parents.”

  “Does that mean that when I die you don’t want your inheritance?” she asks quickly.

  “I don’t like to think about you dying,” I tell her.

  “James, just because you don’t think about something doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Look at your dad. No sir, I’m going to pay for your plumbing and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “It’s going to run ten thousand dollars, Mom. I’m not taking that kind of money from you.”

  “You can pay me back if you ever find yourself with money burning a hole in your pocket,” she says determinedly.

  I know when I’m licked. “I’m going to pay you back,” I tell her.

  Gwen stands up and declares, “I’m off.” She gives Tara a kiss on her way out the door and I hear her say, “You’ve got this, honey. You’ve been through worse.”

  My mom leaves right after Gwen, so I plop down on Tara’s sofa and pick up the remote. “What are you doing?” she wants to know.

  “I thought I’d watch some TV,” I tell her.

  “Don’t you have your own room?” she asks.

  “I don’t want you to be lonely,” I say nicely. The truth is I’m worried about her and I want to make sure she’s okay before I leave.

  Tara shoos me over to the edge of the couch before sitting down on the other end. Penny jumps between us. I sign into my Netflix account and ask, “Have you ever seen Schitt’s Creek?”

  She shakes her head before saying, “That doesn’t sound like it would be my cup of tea.”

  “I think we should give it a try,” I tell her while turning it on. “After all, if anyone is up the proverbial creek right now, it’s you. Maybe you can get a few pointers.”

  I duck right before she hits me with a throw pillow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gwen

  “I should have thrown firebombs instead of eggs. I should have never come to Oregon. I should go home right now and throw the press off the scent,” Gwen grumbles to herself on her way to Tara’s house.

  Of course, there was no sense in going home now. Once the rags caught a whiff, they were like vultures to a fresh kill. Except in Tara’s case they were intent on committing the murder before feasting.

  Gwen has regularly worried about the stress the press has caused her daughter over the years. She certainly witnessed enough of it when she traveled with her, but ever since Tara turned eighteen, she’s been lucky not to have that burden herself.

  What would it take for the reporters to finally lose interest? She decides that if Romaine would just find someone else, they’d give up their zeal to reunite “Tomaine.”

  Following Google Maps instruction, she turns left at the Quick Stop onto the street where her daughter lives. She parks in front of the freshly dinged car she remembers being pursued by earlier that morning. Gwen turns off her ignition, gets out of her rental, and goes to confront the man vexing them all, but when she looks inside the car, he isn’t there.

  Tara

  Penny is sound asleep between me and James on the couch, the hum of her soft snoring is the only thing I’m taking any comfort from at the moment. Who knew when I woke up this morning my life would take such a turn?

  I want to call Geoffrey and explain my sudden absence, but Ruby assures me she’ll take care of everything. What am I supposed to do to fill my time now? There’s only so much sitting on a couch binge-watching Netflix a person can do.

  I kick off my shoes and pull up my feet before covering them with the throw draped across the back of the sofa.

  James points at the TV and recaps the first episode. “It’s kind of like you, huh? Leaving your glamorous life behind for a tiny blip of a town in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Those people are nothing like me,” I assure him. “I wanted to leave; I chose to leave. It’s not my fault I’m being tracked like an escaped convict.”

  “Have you talked to Romaine about all this? I mean, you were together for what, two years?”

  “Three.” I have thought about calling Romaine, but I’m afraid he’d take the contact as an indication that I wanted to get back together. All along he’s thought my desire to leave the industry for a quieter life was just something I needed to get out of my system. When I moved out, he told me he was expecting it to be a temporary situation.

  James interrupts my thoughts. “It must be hard to have a breakup after such a long time.”

  “You’ve never had a long-term relationship go south?” I ask in surprise.

  “I’ve never been in a relationship that’s lasted longer than a year.”

  “Do you have trouble committing or something?” Who reaches their thirties without having ever been with someone for longer than a year?

  “Nice, blame me.” He kicks off his own shoes before putting his feet on the couch and pulling Penny onto his lap. “The last woman I dated got transferred to Seattle. There was no point in trying a long-distance relationship when I have no desire to leave Spartan. The one before her didn’t like the hours I kept. She was a night owl, and as I’ve mentioned, I go to bed at nine. People have to fit all aspects of your life for a relationship to work.”

  I stare at him as though the intensity of my scrutiny alone has the same power as Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth.

  He stares right back. “Not to mention there aren’t a ton of available women to choose from in this town. Unless of course, you’re interested in recently divorced gals in their fifties. I had two rather bold requests for my time this summer.” He winks indicating the nature of those invitations, and a ripple of lust tears right through me.

  I offer a nervous giggle. “Did you take them up on it?”

  “As flattered as I was, I had to turn both ladies down.” My left eyebrow arches in question, so he discloses, “They wanted to go out after my bedtime.” Damn, James Cavanaugh is one charming man.

  For some reason, I feel the need to tell him, “The first year of my relationship with Romaine, we both traveled so much we rarely saw each other. The next year I quit modeling and went to cooking school. When I got my first restaurant job, I moved in with him in hopes of having more time together.”

  “And?”

  “It turns out we wanted vastly different things from life. Romaine wants to stay in the public eye and live his rock-and-roll lifestyle. I don’t.”

  “Do you still love him?” he asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “You can love people without being compatible.”

  “Do you ever miss him?” he asks.

  I decide to turn the tables. “Do you ever miss your old girlfriend?”

  “I miss the companionship for sure,” he says. “I miss the life I thought we could have had together. But when she took a job transfer without discussing it with me, I realized I didn’t mean as much to her as she meant to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” There’s nothing else I can say. Anyone who’s lost at love knows the toll it takes on your heart. “I love Romaine,” I finally say. “We just aren’t a good fit.”

  “Does he know that? I mean, if he pursues you as much as your mom says he does, he’s obviously still hoping to work things out.”

  “My mom told you that he pursues me?” What is she thinking? That’s pretty personal information to share with a virtual stranger.

  “She said he comes to her house begging for information about you.”

  I stare at him for a long moment before saying, “I don’t think anyone has ever left Romaine before. I think he’s worried he’s lost his star power and feels like he has something to prove by getting back together with me.”

  “Like you’re some kind of trophy, huh?”

  James’s words have almost a physical effect on me. I feel an actual sharp pain in my chest. Talk about a knife to the heart. “I guess I’m done being a trophy,” I mumble quietly. “I want to be an equal partner in my next relationship. One where the man I’m in love with understands that his career doesn’t trump mine just because he gets more attention for it.”

  He stares at me so intently, I finally have to look away. I feel extremely vulnerable having made that confession. What is it about James Cavanaugh that lowers my force field to the point where I’d tell him something like that?

  “My parents always worked together,” he says. “They were a team in everything they did: the lodge, their family, and their hobbies. They were my example for what a relationship should be. I want the same kind of synchronicity they shared. And honestly, I’m at a place in my life where I won’t settle for less.”

  “Good luck with that,” I say with a tinge of bitterness. “My parents divorced when I was fourteen. My dad remarried and had another family.”

  “Your mom never remarried?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “She’s dated a few different men, but nothing ever came from it. Sometimes I’m worried that she’s lonely and I blame myself.” Why did I tell him that?

  “Your mom is an adult; she can certainly make her own choices.”

  “She traveled with me when I started modeling at twelve. By the time I was fourteen, we spent one season in Paris, and another in New York. We weren’t home in LA that much.”

  “So, you blame yourself for your parents’ marriage not working out?” He hits the nail right on the head.

  “Maybe,” I tell him.

  “You can’t carry the weight of other people’s choices, Tara. No one’s shoulders are big enough for that kind of burden.”

  Penny wakes up and crosses the couch to my lap like she senses I could use some comfort. “I needed this time in Oregon to let the dust settle and figure out who I really am.”

  James pulls half of my blanket over to his side of the couch and covers himself with it. “Do you think you might go back to LA at some point?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I’d hoped taking the job here would afford me the time and space I needed to figure out exactly who I am. But now it looks like I’m not going to be given that luxury.”

  “The press will eventually give up on you, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure. The problem is that I have a nice thing going here with no one knowing who I really am. If they expose me here, then it’s less likely I’ll be able to keep my identity hidden somewhere else.”

  “You’d leave?” He sounds surprised.

  “If I want a quiet life to pursue my dreams I’d have to. Once people know who I am, they’re going to treat me differently.”

  He tucks his fist under his chin striking a similar pose to The Thinker statue by Rodin that I saw in Paris several years ago. “The way I see it, you have two other options, and they’re not mutually exclusive. The first is to give the people of Spartan a chance before running.”

  “What’s the second?”

  “Quit running altogether and tell the press what you just told me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ruby

  “Forty-two people checked in yesterday,” Ruby tells Chris. “How do we begin to figure out if one of them is the reporter who keeps hounding Tara?”

  Chris turns the computer screen in her direction before opening another tab. Within seconds, more than half of those names pop up. “These are the people who have reserved horses, boats, zip-lines, and bikes.” She opens another tab and types away before announcing, “These are the ones with spa treatments booked.”

  Ruby looks impressed by her friend’s ingenuity. “How many don’t have either?”

  “Three.” Chris writes two names on a piece of paper. “The first is a woman so we know it’s not her. The other two are men. Graham Schmidt and Syd Byerly.”

  Ruby slips the paper in her pocket. “Do you know what they look like?”

  “I didn’t check in either of them, so no. I’ll put a flag on their names in the computer. That way I’ll be notified if they order room service or charge anything else to their room.”

  “Let me know as soon as something comes up,” Ruby says excitedly.

  James

  If you ask me, Tara’s making a mountain out of a molehill regarding the press. I know she’s famous, but it seems a little egotistical to think that her presence would be the big deal she thinks it will be to the people of Spartan. Folks here are too busy living their own lives to care about something like that.