by Robyn Carr
Adele rested her cup and saucer on her knees and looked at Katie. “I think it would be hard for you to imagine the household he grew up in. What chaos. I don’t even know how many children there were in total—Dylan has not one full sibling. They’re all a mess, to the last one. All born and bred in Hollywood, all screwed up, all in various stages of romance, divorce, legal trouble, rehab, whatever you can imagine. Except Dylan. He began to appreciate the simpler expectations of the small Montana town where he lives, got an education and built himself a little business. I can’t say why he tars himself with that same brush—he’s nothing like the rest of them.”
“How in the world did you find that little town?” Katie asked.
“I made a few phone calls and someone knew the place—that it was in a beautiful setting, that it was rustic and not a particularly easy place to live. Mother Nature is a difficult taskmaster in that part of the country, but she rewards the brave and strong with astonishing natural beauty. Now, I was at a time in my life that living with any sort of challenge did not appeal to me in the least. But Dylan? Oh, my…” Adele sipped her tea. “Has Dylan talked much about what it’s like to be a Hollywood kid? A child star?”
“He talked about it some, but I admit, it’s hard to imagine.”
“Imagine this,” Adele said. “As long as you’re in demand, as long as you have the right ratings, you can have anything you want. While you’re a success, people live to please you and there are practically no limits. What’s particularly hard for a child star to understand is that success is very fragile. And the second you slip, the party is over. The fall from grace is fast and hard, you can no longer get away with bad behavior. The pressure to do well is astronomical. Yet Dylan probably had no idea how much pressure he was under.” She shook her head. “Even with all the hard work, big money, fame and recognition, it’s a very difficult and artificial life, but it was all he’d known.
“I took Dylan to a place where he could learn how the America that worshipped him actually lives. And to see what they really thought of him—not as a star but as a kid who had trouble reading, couldn’t play sports very well, had never had to make his own bed, et cetera. I intended for him to be laden with chores rather than the memorizing of scripts, which by the way, someone always read to him to be sure he remembered the right lines.”
“Does he still have trouble reading?” Katie asked.
“I believe he learned to compensate while in Payne. They had a school librarian who had worked with some minor dyslexia in students and she stepped in when asked by his English teacher. Payne—small town where people worked together. They didn’t have much money, couldn’t generate much by way of tax dollars, so they put muscle into their community spirit.”
“Sounds like this place,” Katie said with a smile.
“Dylan was mesmerized by that rugged beauty. I was not—it was too harsh and unyielding for me, but… There’s a hand on the property because there are animals to take care of, and I needed him to show us the ropes. Dylan and I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do if a herd of elk got in the yard—later he had to clear a herd to build the runway.” She smiled. “Look what he’s managed to do. Isn’t it amazing?”
“Does he know how proud you are of him?” Katie asked.
Adele scoffed. “I have a tendency to be a bit rigid. Unsentimental.” There was a snort and some muffled laughter from the direction of the town car and Adele shifted her gaze sharply in that direction. She muttered something that sounded vaguely like pain in my ass.
Katie laughed softly. They were like an old married couple.
“I hope he knows how much I admire him,” Adele went on. “Talk about taking a sow’s ear… Well, he’s turned himself into a rancher, businessman, good neighbor, friend… I failed his father. I was a hardworking actress while raising Dean and I left him with staff, indulged him, sometimes pulled strings for him and did whatever it took to shut him up. What I ended up with was a great actor who was so completely self-indulgent he was doomed to hubris. He thought he was invincible and thus died in an alcohol-related car accident.” She tsked, shaking her head. “Such a loss. Tragic. So you can see my desperation to rescue Dylan. It was bloody awful, let me tell you. I almost killed us both just learning to drive a Jeep around Montana’s snow-covered roads! Not to even mention the debacle of me trying to feed a moose buck an apple like I thought the thing was a docile pony! We had three years of adjusting to each other, the land and homestead, the people. And then he went to college and set me free. Thank God. But you can be damn sure I never let him get far from me—I insisted we stay in close touch and I spent considerable time in Prescott, where he got his degree.”
Katie couldn’t help but laugh at the image of a teenage boy holding on for dear life while his grandmother, who had probably always had a driver, learned to handle a Jeep in the snow, or facing off with a huge, antlered buck. And how about a frisky college freshman putting up with regular visits from his grandmother?
“You were so devoted to him,” Katie said. “I hope he’s that devoted to you.”
“Most of the time,” she said. “He does get his back up when I don’t shrink into the background like a good little granny.”
Katie reached for her hand. “Oh, I think Dylan knows better than to expect that.”
Eighteen
It was just after lunch when Dylan phoned Katie at the cabin. “Hey,” she said, “where are you?”
“I just stopped by Jack’s to call you. I’m having a hard time getting everything I wanted to do done. Are you feeling okay?”
“Sure. Fine. I can’t wait to hear about all the things you’re trying to do.”
“Oh, you might be surprised. You aren’t wrangling a bear or anything, are you?”
“No, of course not. But, Dylan, your grandmother came by this morning. You missed her.”
“Add that to my list—I should see her,” he said. “Will you be okay till dinner time?”
“Well, I don’t know,” she teased. “I might lose my head and chop down some trees or something…”
“I’ll be satisfied if you stay away from the wildlife,” he said. “I’ll bring the boys home. I should finish everything by the time their program lets out. I can bring us dinner from Jack’s.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t mind…”
“Take a nap or something. I’ll see you a little later.”
When Dylan went back to the bar from the kitchen he said to Jack, “I’ll need some more directions. I missed my grandmother this morning and she’s staying with Muriel St. Claire. Can you tell me how to get there?”
“Sure thing,” Jack said. He wrote out the route on a napkin. “You’re running all over the place today.”
“It’s turning out that way.”
He went first to Muriel’s to see his grandmother, happy to see how comfortable she was in Muriel’s home. Muriel was out riding with the man in her life, Walt Booth, which left Dylan to have a relaxing visit with Adele on the front porch. He didn’t have to say much—Adele went on at length about how much she enjoyed Katie. “I do hope you’re smart enough to see you have a winner there,” she said to Dylan.
Then Dylan headed for a home under construction in the mountains between Virgin River and Clear River…all these rivers…yet another thing this place had in common with Montana. The house appeared to be nearly finished and he recognized Conner’s truck parked outside. Unfortunately there were other vehicles as well and Dylan had hoped to catch Katie’s brother alone. But with no alternative, he went inside.
The house was filled with the sound of hammering, power saws, air compressors and the scraping and sliding of equipment and large slabs of building materials. There were men putting up drywall, installing hardwood planks and cutting ceramic tiles for the floor. He found Conner in the kitchen, fitting granite counters. “Hey,” he said. Conner looked up. “Got a minute?”
Conner’s first reaction was to frown. He wiped his hands on a rag from
his back pocket. “Your face is looking better.”
Dylan almost laughed. “I think yours is improved.”
“Just don’t improve it any more. It hurt like a bitch.”
“I came to ask you a question. Want to step outside?” Dylan asked.
“Let’s just do it here,” Conner said. “In case I need backup.”
“You won’t. I hope we’ve made our peace for Katie’s sake. And for Andy and Mitch.”
“As long as you treat her right, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to try my hardest to, Conner, I give you my word. Did you know those boys have never been on a horse? Never had a dog? Never been for a ride in a small plane?”
Conner sighed. “What are you getting at?”
He shrugged. “I have a horse, a dog, a small plane…”
“Yeah? And how should this interest me?”
“If it wouldn’t make you go totally crazy, I’d like to take them back to Montana with me for a couple of days. I have things to attend to there—property, animals and a business. I think they might have fun—it’s a good place. I want them to see where I’ve lived the last twenty years. I want them to know me. The real me.”
“Twenty years, huh?” Conner asked.
“That’s right. It’s a great little town and it’s a good place for boys to grow up. Maybe a good place for tomboys, too.”
“Does Katie want to go?” Conner asked.
“I haven’t asked her yet. I’m asking you to go along with this before I ask her. Because after I show her my home, I’d like to ask her to marry me. If you give your blessing.”
“Seriously?” Conner said dubiously. “You’re asking my blessing? Why?”
“Because you’re the most important person in her life besides the boys. And because we started a family, which means we’re going to be family, you and I.”
“Are you saying you love her?”
Dylan noticed that the place had gone kind of quiet. Not so much drywall, hardwood or tile was getting done. He was afraid to turn around and find a gallery of workers hanging on his answer. “You know what, Conner? I’ll tell you about anything you want to know, but that thing? I’d really like to tell her before I tell you. All I want is your permission to show her my home and propose. And I want the boys to go, too.”
Conner took a step toward him. “Listen, if you’re not in all the way, you don’t have to do this, marry her. Because I can take care of my family and I will…”
“Let her decide, Conner. I’ve never been married, never been a father. But I have an idea what it takes and I’ll do my best.”
“Do you have any idea how important Katie’s happiness is to me?”
“I can guess,” Dylan said. “Do you have any idea how sorry I am that her father is deceased? Because I can’t imagine he’d be any tougher to please than you.”
Conner gave a huff of laughter. “You might want to take that back—my dad was a pretty grumpy old coot, even when he was young.”
“Big surprise,” Dylan said. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Conner thought for a minute. “We should probably go have a beer. Talk about some particulars. Like how you’re going to take care of her with a business that isn’t doing too well. And what you’re going to say if she doesn’t like where and how you live.”
“I don’t hear a lot of pounding or sawing,” Dylan said. “Does most of Haggerty Construction now know I want to marry my pregnant girlfriend?”
“I’d have to say yes, if they don’t know now, they soon will. Let’s go. You’re buying.”
“Fine,” Dylan said. “Jack’s?”
“The only game in town. See you there. I’ll pack up my tools.”
Dylan walked toward the door. He turned back and faced about six men, all very large, all wearing tool belts, all looking like they’d prefer more gossip than a chance to beat him up. “Get back to work,” he said to them. “That’s all I’m giving you.” And then he left and drove back to Virgin River.
Dylan was nursing a cup of coffee when Conner finally showed up. The bar was still empty, the dinner crowd not yet arrived. Conner sat up on the stool beside Dylan and said to Jack, “Give him a beer. And run him a tab.”
“I’m picking up the boys and taking them home.”
“No, you’re not. I checked in with Leslie—she’s going to take the boys home for you.”
Dylan stiffened. “Hey, I haven’t run this plan by Katie yet. I’d rather Leslie not fill her in on our discussion.”
“Relax. Les is going to tell Katie that we’re having a beer together. Hopefully she’ll see that as a good thing.”
“Leslie is a nice lady,” Dylan said. “So here’s a pertinent question—you planning on marrying Leslie?”
“That’s between us. And by the way, she’s not pregnant…”
Jack stepped in front of them, delivering a couple of beers. “I have some experience with this if you’re interested.”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Jeez,” Jack said. “Have it your way.” And he moved away and went into the kitchen.
Conner turned toward Dylan. “I take it you’ve never found yourself in this position before?”
“Nope,” Dylan confirmed. “You?”
“Nope,” Conner said. Then he shrugged and added, “Can’t say why. I’ve never proven myself to be all that smart.”
Dylan laughed in spite of himself. “Katie thinks you walk on water…”
“She’s biased. So, what’s your plan, big shot?”
“Well, it’s simple. I have a meeting in L.A. tomorrow night—should be quick. Then like I said, I have to go back to Montana—I think the kids will like it. It’s a lot like here, but rougher sometimes, like in winter. Winters can be brutal. It’s small, nice people, good schools, clean air, very big sky…”
“Right. So—suppose they like it?”
“If they like Payne and like me, that could make life pretty easy since we should all be together.”
“In Montana…”
“Where to live is up to Katie, all right? If she can’t stand the idea of being away from you, we’ll work with that. I can probably find some kind of job around here…”
“What’s this crap about you being some kind of big star?” Conner asked.
“A long, long time ago. I’m a has-been, and frankly I like it that way. I wouldn’t want to raise the twins in Hollywood. Or this new one, either. I’d rather raise them on egg and milk money.”
“And what the hell does that mean? Egg and milk money?”
“My little airport can probably support a couple of families just on plane storage, maintenance, a few charters, the occasional instruction. The airport is on my ranch, which is about sixty acres—a few cows, some chickens, some goats. I have a hand who likes taking care of the animals. We sell eggs and stock—he bought us a bull several years ago. The little bit of laying and breeding we do just about covers his salary. I lease some grazing land to a rancher but Ham, that’s my hand, he has a big summer garden at my place. We hunt and fish. We process our kill and eat it all winter.”
“You’re not rich?” Conner asked.
“Nope.”
“No big star money?”
“Nope. But I get by pretty well. The way I live—it’s healthy.”
“And you fly? Leave home a lot?”
“Less often than a commercial pilot. And it’s a tight community—we all look out for each other. I live in the valley and we have lots of wildlife—ours can be a little more challenging. We have the occasional grizzly—a lot more aggressive than black bear, but they tend to like the mountains. We have moose, deer, elk, coyote, mountain lions, bobcats, wolves. We have dogs who wake us up if the wolves or cats start pestering the chickens or goats. We keep the barn and pens secure against predators. Why buy a chicken or goat to feed to wolves?” Dylan took a drink of his beer. “Boys and girls grow up strong and healthy.”
Conner put his elbo
w on the bar and leaned his head on his hand. “I think I want to see this place.”
“Fine,” Dylan said. He smiled. “Summers,” he suggested. “Maybe every other Christmas.”
Conner just laughed. “You going to leave pretty soon? If she agrees?”
“I bought tickets. I took Katie up in a little plane and she puked, so I bought tickets. I think she’ll be okay on a jet. We’ll have to drive to Redding and fly into Butte. My best friend’s wife will pick us up. So…after I get back from L.A. in a few days,” he finished.