by Brenda Novak
“The Wagon Wheel.”
“But that’s a dump! Nothing like the places you’re probably used to staying.”
“It’s not luxurious, but it’s clean, and they offer free breakfast.” She wiggled her eyebrows as though she considered that an appealing amenity.
“That might be okay for a day or two, but I can’t see you staying there indefinitely.”
“It’s just a stopgap. Maybe I’ll buy a house.” She winked. “Bet my dad wouldn’t see that coming—at least not in time to block me.”
Paige bit her bottom lip. “You should stay here with me. It’s got to be more comfortable than moving to The Wagon Wheel.”
Sloane lifted a negating hand. “I’m not going to impose on you any longer. I’ll be okay at the motel until I can make other arrangements.”
“What about your furniture and all the other stuff you sent from New York?”
“I’ll leave it in storage until I have somewhere to put it.”
Compassion entered her eyes—compassion Sloane hoped was genuine. Micah’s text had made her even more leery of Paige than she’d been before. It felt as though she didn’t have a single friend left in this town, except Vickie Winters, who was more of an old acquaintance and no one she could lean on for comfort, encouragement or security. Vickie had made it clear she preferred Ed not know of her support.
“I’m sorry, Sloane. What your father and brother are doing completely sucks.”
Sloane fought to maintain a determined expression. “They’re trying to show me who’s boss. But I’m no longer a young girl with no way to fight back. I can hold my own.”
Paige didn’t seem too encouraged by that statement. “You, against the two grown men who basically run this town?”
“My brother has some hand in running Millcreek? I thought he took over the dealership.”
“He did. He took over and expanded. He has money, too, and he takes advantage of whatever perks the city gives him.”
“And he gets a lot because of my father. Nepotism at its finest.” Sloane imagined she was clinging to a not-so-stable tree limb hanging over a raging river. If she lost her grip, she’d fall and be swept away. “But don’t worry, I’ll manage.”
“Okay.” Paige pulled her into a quick embrace. “You’ll let me know if you need to come back, though, won’t you? Because you’ll always be welcome here.”
For a brief moment, Sloane wondered if she could be the one who was acting weird, jumping at shadows, distrusting everyone. Maybe Micah had purposely acted to undermine her trust of Paige. If, like her father and brother, he was anxious for her to be gone, that would be smart, because it didn’t leave her with a lot of other options, not after being gone for so long. Some of her other friends must still live in town, but which ones? And how would she go about repairing those old relationships? She’d been so caught up in Micah her junior and senior years that she’d drifted away from most of her girlfriends even before she left. She’d tried to hang on to Paige, of course, though their relationship had also been affected.
“I appreciate all you’ve done. I want you to know that.”
“So I let you stay here for a couple of nights, no big deal.”
“I’m talking about the meals, too, and the friendship. Coming back to Millcreek hasn’t been an easy thing for me.”
“I wish it didn’t have to be this difficult.”
“I do, too.” If only Micah hadn’t married Paige, it would’ve been easier. At least then she’d still be able to trust her best friend.
“Mom, I’m hungry!” Trevor called out. “When are we going to have breakfast? Can we go out for donuts, or do we have to be at the store soon?”
“Megan Vance is working for me today, so we’re free. But no donuts. They aren’t healthy. I thought we’d have some eggs and then go over to the park and throw the ball.”
He cheered up at that idea, and Paige turned back to Sloane. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay—at least for the breakfast part of our Saturday plans?”
Sloane couldn’t eat. She was too upset about losing the house. “No, I’m good. But thanks.”
“Come tell your aunt Sloane goodbye,” Paige called out to Trevor.
He turned off the TV and sauntered over. “Goodbye, Aunt Sloane.”
Sloane smiled as she rested a hand on his shoulder. “Take good care of your mother, and I hope your father catches on to that game soon, so he’ll be more fun to play with.”
He grinned at her. “He’s usually not that bad.”
“Yeah, well, he was pretty distracted last night,” Paige said.
At the sour note in Paige’s voice, Sloane dropped her hand and gathered her bags. It was definitely time to go.
* * *
Micah didn’t work until evening, when he had patrol duty. He’d probably spend his shift pulling over drunk drivers or answering disturbance complaints from the seedier side of town, since it was a weekend, but at least those duties would keep him occupied. This morning, he was trying to stay busy by fixing a leak under the kitchen sink. Although such repairs typically weren’t the tenant’s responsibility, Micah’s landlord happened to be his mother’s cousin and had given him a great deal on rent, so he was trying to help out in return. He didn’t want to call up with a complaint before he’d lived in the house for a month, especially since it was such a simple fix.
He was almost finished when the doorbell sounded. Dropping his wrench, he wiped his hands and went to see who it was. He guessed it would be his mother, holding a sack of food she’d made. Yesterday, she’d left a message saying she was worried about him. She didn’t think he was getting enough rest or taking the time to eat properly. But he’d told her, many times, that she had no reason to worry. After living at the ranch for the past year, where she’d had unbridled access to him, he was trying to put some space between them, to reclaim his privacy and autonomy. He was also putting off speaking to her because she liked to talk about “how he was recovering” and give him advice on finding another woman. He didn’t like to acknowledge that he needed to recover. And he wasn’t interested in dating—not even if it meant having sex again after almost a year.
He was so sure he’d find his mother on the stoop he didn’t check the peephole before opening the door. He was thinking up an excuse he could give for why he still had so many boxes to unpack. She wouldn’t be happy that he wasn’t “settling in.”
But it wasn’t his mother. It was Sloane’s father.
“Ed. What a surprise. Did we—did we have a tee time?”
Ed was dressed in a polo shirt and shorts, with the visor he generally wore when they went golfing shading his expensive sunglasses. “I thought we could swing by the course, see if they might be able to squeeze us in.” His smile revealed a fortune in implants. Micah had never seen real teeth quite that big or that white. With all the time Ed spent at the gym, the tanning studio and getting his hair dyed, he was doing everything he could to battle the aging process.
Normally, Micah would’ve jumped at the chance to hit a few balls. He loved golf, and Ed was a fairly competitive partner, which made the game a hell of a lot more fun. But the aversion Micah had felt before, when he was in high school and dating Sloane, had reared up again, especially after what Randy had done last night and the call Micah had received from Rich Coleman this morning.
“Can’t,” Micah said, looking at a slightly distorted view of himself in the mirrored surface of Ed’s aviators. “I have too much to do around here. I’m still not entirely moved in.”
“Oh, come on. Whatever chores you’ve got will be waiting for you when we’re done. What’s a few hours of golf on such a gorgeous day?”
Ed wasn’t used to being turned down. Most people jumped at the chance to be included in his inner circle, and Micah could tell he didn’t expect today to be any different.
Tight
ening his grip on the door, so the tension he was feeling wouldn’t manifest itself in a more obvious way, Micah cleared his throat. “Really, I can’t. I have patrol tonight, so I have to make some progress here at the house. Maybe if I’d had more notice I could’ve planned around it.”
Ed’s smile faded. “Well, I wouldn’t want to put you behind when you have such important stuff to get done,” he said with a touch of sarcasm. “I’m sure Randy can pull away from whatever he’s got going.”
The mention of Randy provoked Micah into speaking up when he probably should’ve let Ed go. “Did you hear what happened last night?”
“Last night?” Ed blinked, a benign expression on his face. “No. What happened?”
Micah was certain Ed was playing dumb, but he answered, anyway. “I was at Paige’s, playing video games with my son, and Randy showed up.”
Ed’s eyebrows slid above his sunglasses and he spread his hands. “So? He must’ve wanted a word with his sister. Sloane was there, too, am I right?”
“Yes, she was, but it wasn’t just a word. He pushed her so hard she hit the front door, which left a big bump on her forehead.”
The mayor’s lip curled as if to say, What’s the big deal? “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was that bad,” Micah insisted, refusing to let him brush off the incident. “Any worse, and I would’ve had to arrest him for assault. You can’t shove a woman like that, Ed. You can’t shove anyone.”
He ripped off his sunglasses. “You’d never arrest Randy, would you? You know he’s not a bad guy. What happened last night wasn’t his fault.”
Micah caught his jaw before his mouth could fall open. “Whose fault was it?”
“Sloane’s! Who else? She has no business here, not if she’s only back to cause trouble.”
“So far, she’s not the one who’s been acting out, Ed. And she has as much right to be in Millcreek as anyone else.”
“You’re standing up for her, given what she did to you? After she walked out on all of us?”
Micah didn’t want to stand up for her, but he refused to pile on. She had enough going against her with the assholes who were related to her. “I’m not going to punish her for that.”
“But she blindsided you! I’ve never seen a boy so brokenhearted. If she hadn’t taken off, you never would’ve slept with Paige, never would’ve gotten Paige pregnant. Because of Sloane, you married a woman you didn’t love!”
“Don’t ever say that again!” Micah snapped.
“Why not? It’s true.”
Maybe it was true, but his personal life was none of Ed’s business, and he didn’t want anything like that to get back to Trevor. Trevor was struggling with the divorce. Micah could only imagine how the poor kid would feel if someone told him he was the only reason Micah had married Paige in the first place. “What’s true is that I love my son, and Sloane had the right to leave.”
Ed tsked as he shook his head. “I’m surprised by you, Micah.”
A fresh jolt of adrenaline caused Micah to straighten. He was getting the impression if he didn’t jump onto the “let’s run Sloane out of town” bandwagon, Ed’s disfavor would make it difficult for him to continue living in Millcreek. “Surprised that I’m trying to be fair?” he said. “To live and let live? To mind my own business and let Sloane mind hers?”
“She’s not minding hers. That’s the problem. She’s back to make trouble for me—and I’m your mayor!”
Ed hadn’t really come here to play golf. Maybe he was willing to hit the green, but he was using that as an excuse to get another shot at enlisting Micah’s support where Sloane was concerned. Ed was trying to shore up his team where he guessed it would be the weakest, but Micah didn’t like being manipulated. “Which means what, exactly? What am I supposed to do for you as my mayor?”
Ed’s nostrils flared and a hard glitter entered his eyes. “You’d better not take her side or get involved in what she’s doing, Micah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
Micah didn’t care for the threat in his voice. “Or...”
“You’ll see how much better it is to be my friend than my enemy,” he said and stalked off.
It took several minutes for Micah to overcome his outrage well enough to go back inside. Even then, he paced the length of his living room instead of returning to the repair on the sink. Who the hell did Ed think he was? And what did he mean by that parting salvo?
Unable to resist, Micah pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Sloane. Your father is a piece of work.
He waited several minutes but didn’t get a response. He’d just decided she was going to ignore him when his phone pinged.
I grew up with him, remember?
He remembered. He just couldn’t acknowledge how difficult it must’ve been for an innocent child to be subjected to such an egotistical bastard, because then he wouldn’t be able to blame her for taking off the way she had, or for wanting to leave again regardless of what else Millcreek might hold.
“Damn you, don’t soften—don’t you dare soften,” he muttered to himself and shoved his phone in his pocket so he wouldn’t text her again.
* * *
The motel smelled of mildew. Sloane grimaced as she crammed her luggage on the woodgrain-laminated desk and a nearby dresser so she could check the mattress for bedbugs before allowing any of her belongings to come into contact with the shag carpeting.
She didn’t find any black dots. The place looked worn but clean. Maybe she wouldn’t get bitten or infested, but the walls were so thin she would be able to hear her neighbors as they came and went, not to mention the cars in the parking lot.
And she wouldn’t have a refrigerator or a washer and dryer.
This was going to be pretty inconvenient. No way would she be able to stay here for long.
With a sigh, she pulled back the bedspread—she refused to touch more than a handful of the fabric, knowing it probably wasn’t laundered for each new occupant—and sat on the sheets that, hopefully, had been changed. As much as she wasn’t impressed with the room, she was relieved to have her own space. Catching up with Paige hadn’t been quite as healing as she’d envisioned while she was in New York.
She tried not to think about Clyde and how much she missed him. As hard as it was, she had to move on without him. She had no choice. She also needed to make up her mind on whether she should give in and buy a house in Millcreek. She hated to make such a big commitment. She’d feel less mobile, unable to just pick up and leave when she wanted.
But maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe that would make her stay the course even in the dark moments, when her courage began to flag.
A knock at the door caused her to jump. The last thing she’d expected here at The Wagon Wheel was a visitor, especially because she’d barely checked in.
She wasn’t prepared to deal with her brother again, so she checked the peephole first.
A beautiful blonde woman stood outside dressed in a pair of white ankle-length slacks, a sleeveless sweater with blue stripes, low heels and a pair of big-lens sunglasses. She had her hair pulled back so that Sloane could easily see her diamond stud earrings, and she was wearing other expensive jewelry, including a thick gold tennis bracelet on the wrist of the hand that held on to a small child, who was also wearing sunglasses and had her blond hair in pigtails.
Sloane removed the security chain and peered out. “Is there something I can do for you?” She couldn’t imagine this woman would ever deign to stay at The Wagon Wheel, so who was she? She wasn’t part of the staff. And Sloane didn’t recognize her from when she’d lived here before.
Her visitor removed the Prada sunglasses she was wearing, and the child—a little girl dressed in denim shorts and a frilly top—gazed up at Sloane curiously. “I’m Hadley,” the woman said. “Randy’s wife.”
Sloane pre
ssed a hand to her chest. If this was her sister-in-law, the child had to be her niece. “How’d you know I was here?” she asked.
“I heard your father tell Randy you were staying with Paige, so I went by there a minute ago. I know her from her Little Bae Bae Boutique. I drop by there all the time. I even helped her have a garage sale in the parking lot last spring to get rid of her excess inventory. Anyway, she told me you’d left and were getting a room, and since this place is mostly empty midday, it wasn’t hard to figure out which room you were in. I mean...your car has New York license plates, and it’s parked right there, so...”
“Yes. That’s my car.” Sloane opened the door wider. She couldn’t tell if this was a friendly visit, but she wasn’t going to be unwelcoming, just in case. These people were part of her family. If she could connect with any member, she’d be grateful. Maybe then she’d feel less isolated, less adrift on the sea of life. “Would you like to come in?”
Hadley checked over her shoulder as if she was afraid someone might see her, but after a moment’s hesitation, she guided Misty inside and stepped out of the way so Sloane could shut the door.
“I’m happy to have the chance to meet you,” Sloane said. “This must be Misty.”
The woman nodded but seemed nervous, poised for a rapid exit. “Yes. She’ll be four in April.”
Sloane crouched down so she could speak to Misty at eye level. “Look at you! Aren’t you beautiful! I love your sunglasses.”
Her niece gave her a shy smile before knocking her sunglasses off while trying to hide behind her mother.
“She’s a good girl,” Hadley said, bending to pick them up.
“I bet she is.”
Hadley put the glasses in her purse. “What happened to your head?”
Sloane reached up to touch the injury. Apparently, Randy hadn’t told his wife what he’d done. “Oh, um, nothing. I hit the door is all.” She wasn’t trying to hide what Randy had done. She just didn’t think throwing his behavior up to Hadley would help their relationship. It would put his wife in the position of either defending or criticizing him, and forcing her to make that choice wouldn’t start them off on the right foot.