Now, here she was in front of him, and he would feel a pang of envy if it weren’t so utterly absurd—pursuing any kind of romantic interest while on vacation, let alone one of Carter’s starstruck groupies. Why was it Carter always saw the most beautiful women first?
Ezra clung to Zach’s shoulder, his little fingers like claws through his light jacket. At least Zach had been able to clean his nephew’s hands and face before either of them realized the dog was missing.
“Swuffy.” The tears that had slowed for a moment when Uncle Zach had promised to find the stuffed animal were starting up again.
“You might want to hurry,” she’d said. No censure for him taking too long or handling the situation incorrectly. Instead, she’d given him an encouraging smile and had run a comforting hand down Ezra’s flyaway hair.
“Let’s go find Mr. Scruffy,” Zach whispered to his distraught nephew. He quickly retraced his steps down the path. It didn’t take long before he saw the animal as she’d described it, patiently waiting on a smooth rock, passersby giving it a wide berth. “Look, Ezra.” Zach set his nephew down. “Mr. Scruffy has been waiting for you.”
Almost before he removed his hands, the toddler had his chubby legs pumping in a run toward his dog. Zach watched Ezra scoop up the dog by a hind leg, clutching the paw in one fist, all tears gone.
“Shall we go find Mommy?” Zach asked.
“Daddy?” the sweet voice added.
“Daddy too.” Zach took Ezra’s free hand and matched his pace to the boy’s, enjoying the feel of the little hand so trustingly placed in his.
As soon as he spotted his family, though, Ezra took off. Zach watched him go, smiling.
“Good. You’re here.” Carter came up beside him and reached out to hold him back from joining the rest of the group. “I need your—” Carter’s phone rang at an annoying decibel, and he cut off whatever he was going to say to quickly silence it. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”
Zach watched Carter’s expression turn pensive, followed by a sharp nod. When the call was finished, Carter bent over his phone’s screen, his fingers flying across its surface, either answering emails or texts but looking none too happy about it.
“What’s up?” Zach asked, in case Carter needed to vent.
“The convention lost one of its presenters, and they’re trying to get me to Charlottesville this week as well as next.” He opened his calendar app and blew out a long breath.
“It’s work,” Zach said, letting Carter off the hook about leaving the family vacation.
“I kind of need that right now.” Carter stared at his phone as if it would give him all the answers. After a moment, he looked up. “We just got here,” he said, his voice stronger but still not loud enough for anyone else to overhear. “Would everyone kill me if—”
“If you did your job?” Zach shook his head. “We tagged along on your work trip, not the other way around. Your commitment was to this convention. In for a penny . . .”
Carter threw his hand up to stop him, a humorous sparkle lighting his eyes again. “Do not quote that cliché to me.” He squared his shoulders, challenging Zach, just as he’d hoped would be the case. “Decide what you want, and the path to achieve it will become clear.”
Carter was most likely quoting himself. Although Zach had tried, he hadn’t made it past the second chapter of Carter’s first book—not that he would admit that to his brother. But Zach did know Carter was all about creating your own destiny.
“If something isn’t working, you don’t just keep going because you already started down that road.” Carter was back at the reason he wouldn’t support the in for a pound part of the cliché. “You don’t make a mistake better by perpetuating it.”
Miraculously, Zach kept from smiling. Carter had taken the bait—hook, line, and sinker—and he didn’t care that that was another cliché. Sometimes they were the most fitting. The end result was exactly what he’d been going for—lifting Carter’s mood.
The phone in Carter’s hand buzzed again, and when he looked at the screen, his newly reclaimed smile froze.
“What now?” Zach asked.
Carter closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out. It was a moment before he spoke. “I need to get back to the inn and repack everything. And arrange for transportation. And—” He ran a hand through his hair. “Pull out some of my older material, since I’m giving two keynote speeches instead of one and teaching twice as many breakouts.” He jabbed at his phone, typing out another text, which was responded to almost immediately. His thumbs hovered over his screen before he grunted and shoved the phone into his pocket. Clearly something more was going on than he was admitting to.
“You’ve got this,” Zach said, “and I’ve got the transportation.” He jiggled the keys. “Mom was just saying she wanted to get back for dinner before the hooligans get too fussy, so I bet they’re ready to go.” He tipped his head toward the family. “I’m not worried in the least that you’ll come up with more to say—I mean, you’re Carter Freaking Hughes. Class A motivational speaker. World-renowned and highly sought after. The author of two books—” He was pretty sure he was understating this last bit, but he wasn’t sure of Carter’s exact count at this point. Better to be under than over in this situation.
“Three,” Carter mumbled.
Zach allowed the correction as he continued, “Author of three best-selling books—which proves my point: you’ve never been at a loss for words.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Let’s gather the troops.”
It didn’t take much to convince the family that it was time to head back to town. They piled into the two vehicles they’d taken to the tulip fields and were back at the kitschy Cornucopia Inn within a few minutes. They dropped into the inn’s lobby in ones and twos through the revolving door, an embarrassingly noisy mass of humanity who acted like being separated into two separate cars for the ten-minute drive had been a hardship.
“Are you sure you can’t go to dinner with us before you leave?” Trina grabbed her son by the waist and pulled him close. “I don’t want you driving on an empty stomach.”
Carter threw a long-suffering look in Zach’s direction, as if putting up with their mom’s hugs was a tiresome duty, but Zach knew Carter didn’t mind. He gave his mom a side-armed hug and let go, backing off with one step toward the cabin he shared with his brother. “It’s already getting dark,” Carter explained. “With the unfamiliar roads, I want to give myself as much time as I can before exhaustion sets in.”
A pucker in their mother’s forehead told Zach she hadn’t needed the extra reminder to worry over her son’s safety.
“He’ll be fine, Mom.” Zach handed Carter his car keys. “He’ll call when he gets there.” He gave Carter the look to say that he’d better.
“I’ll grab something and eat while I drive,” Carter added quickly, but the worried expression on her face didn’t ease—at least, not completely. He pulled her into the side-arm hug again and placed a kiss on her temple. “You guys go on to dinner. I’ll see you Friday.”
This time their mom returned his squeeze and stepped back, shaking her head. “I’m sure it won’t take you long to pack, and it’ll take at least that long for us to figure out where we’re going.” She looked to Zach for confirmation. Zach shrugged. More often than not, he was along for the ride. “Don’t leave without saying one more goodbye. To everyone—” She pointedly looked at the rest of the family in the lobby. Marnie and Blake, as well as their young son Ezra, were notably absent.
“Fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As he left the room, Carter flashed a gigantic smile at the desk clerk, who watched him step through the automatic doors into the courtyard area.
Zach huffed out a breath. Another woman falling under Carter’s spell? His brother probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. He probably thought he was just being friendly, seeing people, being appreciative of those who worked on his behalf. What did
Zach care? It wasn’t like he was looking for someone to date either—at least not while on vacation in Harvest Ranch—but it rankled that he would never get a shot with his brother around.
Zach waited until the desk clerk seemed to have recovered from the force of nature that was his brother to ask her about the town’s restaurant options. Holding his niece Leah’s hand, Zach stepped to the counter, offering a weak smile of his own.
She didn’t seem to notice, her eyes still on the door where Carter had exited. “Was that Carter Hughes?”
Zach gave a terse nod.
“I heard about him.” She smiled at Leah even as she spoke to Zach.
At least she wasn’t fixated on Carter. “Recommendation for a quick family-friendly place to grab dinner?”
“Are you thinking pizza or casual dining with a little bit of everything?”
While she rattled off a short—but, Zach guessed, thorough—list of the town’s fare, he took note of her silver oval name tag. Kate. The deluge of options wasn’t helping him any. He was hungry enough to grab whatever was closest. He looked to his parents and grandparents standing nearby.
“What about the old drive-in?” Grandpa Moose stepped into the conversation. “Is it open on Monday nights?”
Kate’s eyebrows pinched together.
“Not for dinner,” Zach explained just loud enough for her to hear.
The automatic doors slid open and Carter entered, pulling his suitcase. He stood next to Zach, listening in on the conversation.
“Oh,” Kate said just as softly to Zach. To Moose, she spoke in a normal volume. “The Starlight Drive-In closed about eight years ago.”
Moose sighed, and Grandma Mikki’s face fell in disappointment.
The desk clerk picked up a plastic donation box with the computer-generated sign that read, “Save the Starlight” in all capital letters. “The town is raising funds to help convert it to digital so that the owner can open again. Part of the proceeds from the community cleanup the next couple of weeks will go to the fund as well.” She waved her fingers over the jar. “If you want to contribute.” Her tone indicated that she wasn’t trying to pressure them. She set the container back on the counter. “It’s a good cause, saving a town landmark like that.”
Feeling bad for the desk clerk trying to do a good turn, Zach fished out his wallet and extracted a twenty, which he stuffed into the jar.
“That makes me so sad.” Mikki grabbed Moose’s forearm. “All those memories . . .”
“Are still right here.” Grandpa Moose tapped his temple, but then he reached for his wallet as well.
This time when the doors opened, the rest of the family traipsed through. Trina chatted animatedly with Marnie. At her side, Marnie’s husband Blake held a cuddly Ezra on his shoulder. They tucked into the side of the lobby, and Carter followed. He dropped his baggage onto one of the couches, and the rest of the family joined them. Through a flurry of hugs and quick goodbyes, Carter reiterated his apologies. The entire time, his phone buzzed audibly in his pocket with the short, intermittent bursts that meant texts rather than a phone call. When the well-wishes wore thin and kids pulled on parents’ and grandparents’ hands toward the revolving door, Zach turned to offer his own goodbye.
“Gas tank is full,” Zach said.
“What will the rest of you do? Sorry it’s going to be tight with only two vehicles.” Carter’s phone buzzed again, and he pulled it from his pocket. After checking the screen, he mumbled something under his breath and shoved the phone away again.
“Is that your liaison with the convention?” Zach asked, sure that couldn’t possibly be the case. Whoever it was, they were annoying him, and it wasn’t even Zach’s phone.
“No.” Carter’s lips hardly moved.
“Then what’s going on? You’ve been distracted all day.” And pushing well into frustrated territory, if Zach was reading him correctly.
Carter ran a hand through his hair. He stopped to think, sighed, but then stood straighter, resolution in his eyes. “If a woman shows up who claims to be my fiancée . . .”
Carter was engaged? “Wait . . . what?”
“I’ll be back before she knows it.” Carter picked up his work bag and slung it over his shoulder. “In fact, don’t tell her where I am. I don’t want her to waste her time going out there and back …” A cuckoo clock cooed a new hour. “I’ve got to get going,” he said in a rush. He rolled his suitcase to the lobby doors before Zach could pry into the whole his-brother-being-engaged thing. “See you Friday.”
7
The workday after unexpectedly running into Carter Hughes at the tulip fields couldn’t move fast enough for Lucy. It was aggravating to walk past Crew working and not be able to share the news, but she didn’t want to pack it into three-minute snippets. She’d rather hold out until they could have a proper conversation and she could confess to awkwardly messing everything up. She desperately needed Crew’s reassurance that things would still work out. Surprisingly, she somehow got her own work done, and her midday show was ready for Crew to hit the play button when he signed off for the day.
Oftentimes, she would stick around the office for a few hours after he went home, but she’d planned ahead to be done when he was. He was still gathering his things when she rushed to intercept him before he went home for the day. “Choco-Latte?”
It shouldn’t even have been a question. He was the kind of friend who always found time for her, and a few minutes later, they were across the street, inside the warm and aromatic shop.
“What’ll you have today, Crew? Another one of our gourmet hot chocolates?” shop owner Presley tempted him with a bit of hopefulness.
Crew shook his head, his thick brown hair falling over his forehead. “I think it’s about that time of year when I pack up my mug and go for something cold and bubbly.” He looked up to the list of flavor add-ins while running a hand over his stubble. “But what . . . ?”
Lucy tapped her foot, waiting for Crew to decide. The perk of always ordering the same thing was that she didn’t have to study the menu board, fretting over the possibilities and worrying she’d make the wrong choice. Except Presley was working. She’d get Lucy’s order wrong, as she always did.
“Maybe not bubbly,” Crew decided. “Give me a flavored lemonade. Your choice.”
“You got it!” Pleased, Presley tossed her long, brown braid over her shoulder and turned her smile on Lucy. “And for you?”
Lucy forced herself not to grimace. Seriously? Presley had to know, considering Lucy ordered the same thing multiple times a week. “The usual.”
Presley gave her a blank look.
“A Dr. Pepper,” Lucy gave in with a sigh.
“Any mix-ins?” Presley was already stirring a dash of this and a squeeze of that into Crew's lemonade.
“Nope. Just Dr. Pepper.”
Crew paid for their drinks and pulled Lucy to the side to wait. Being the extrovert that he was, he dragged her over to interrupt their local orchard owner, Meg Atwood, and her movie producer guest, Fletcher Forsyth, as they chatted over drinks at a window table.
“How’s movie filming out at Atwood Orchards?” Crew lobbed his question at Fletcher. “Have you wrapped yet?”
“Yes, we’re in postproduction now.”
“We should schedule you for an interview,” Lucy suggested.
“Yes, on the Morning Crew—if you Hollywood types get up that early,” Crew jested. Fletcher smirked, and Crew continued, “I’m looking forward to seeing your film. I’m sure it will be another box office hit for you.”
When Presley called their order, Lucy waved at the couple and Crew accepted their drinks from the counter. He handed the Dr. Pepper to Lucy as he opened the door into the bright midday sunshine. “So you met your idol?” He brought up the topic she’d been waiting to discuss, but he ruined it by waggling his eyebrows at her.
She was so distracted by Crew that she took a sip of her drink without bracing herself for an unexpected flavor.
Sure enough, Presley had mixed something in, and Lucy had to force herself to swallow. She shouldn’t have been surprised. “I knew you weren’t listening.” And neither was Presley.
Lucy flopped onto the bench next to Crew, frustrated to have her drink messed up again—how hard was it to serve a straight Dr. Pepper?—and frustrated that Crew didn’t seem to grasp the importance of what she was saying.
“I am too listening. You said you saw Carter Hughes out in the tulip fields yesterday.” Crew gave her a confused look.
He’d missed the entire point.
“And I put mud on him. Mud!” Lucy covered her eyes with her free hand. The embarrassment had kept her awake late into the night and then seeped into her dreams when she’d finally dozed off. “Then I got an email this morning from an out-of-state company I’d never heard of before donating the exact amount of his speaking fee. It took some digging, but I found out—” Clamping her lips closed for a moment, she shook her head, almost unable to go on. “It’s his company. What am I supposed to make of that?” She threw her hand up into the air. “Does this mean he’s not coming anymore?” The taste of worry in her mouth forced her to take another sip of the tainted Dr. Pepper. It wasn’t quite as bad this time around.
Calmly, Crew asked, “Did you get an email canceling his speech?”
“Well, no.”
“Then assume he’s coming.” Crew took a sip of his own drink. “He’s in town, Lucy. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t planning on speaking Saturday.”
Lucy took a deep breath, allowing the truth of Crew’s words to settle around her. “You’re right.”
While You Were Speaking: Spring Flings and Engagement Rings Page 6