“You look pretty,” Robyn Craine, Jenna’s new assistant manager, said. They were standing inside the gate watching a family of five join another group waiting to start the tour. The guide was a young man from Detroit who was spending the summer with his grandparents. “I love your dress,” Robyn said, tilting her head to give Jenna the once-over. “But, um, please tell me you’re wearing different shoes to the ceremony.”
The girl, who was barely nineteen, reminded Jenna of herself so many years ago. Obviously, she wasn’t afraid to think for herself and voice an opinion.
“Shoes are optional,” she said, consulting her checklist one last time. She’d been here since six, and had changed clothes a few minutes earlier in the office to save time. She didn’t want to be late for her best friend’s wedding, but walking away from her second opening day of the season was killing her. “I meant to get a pedicure but ran out of time.”
“Well, I’d still suggest losing the tennis shoes. They make you look like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride.”
Jenna glanced up. “You do know I’m not the one getting hitched, right?”
“Everyone knows Libby is marrying the blond hunk from Are You Ready for Your Close-up? I saw him in town the other day and nearly peed my pants. He’s taller and cuter than he looks on TV. Lucky Libby.”
Jenna agreed but not for those reasons. Libby and Cooper were so obviously in love it almost hurt to see them together. Not that she’d spent much time with her friend the past few days. Between getting her crew prepared to reopen and working with Shane every morning, Jenna barely had time to brush her teeth and drop into bed.
But she wasn’t complaining. The creative challenge was so exciting and frustrating and demanding she’d never felt more alive. Of course, some of that might have been due to Shane, who pushed but also praised. He was good for her self-esteem, she decided. A girl could get used to someone telling her how smart and clever and creative she was. And she liked spending time with him.
Too much, maybe, given the fact that he was only here for a few more days.
“So, are we good to go here?” she asked, handing Robyn the clipboard.
“You bet. A little slow, but I think things will pick up this afternoon. I’m really excited about your idea of using Jason to stand out near the highway flipping that big arrow around. That was really smart, Jenna.”
“Actually, it wasn’t my idea, but I’ll pass along your kudos to the person who thought of it…if it works. I’ll call after the reception to see how our traffic is doing.”
Shane’s off-the-cuff suggestion had been one of those aha moments. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she’d exclaimed, intrigued by the image of a handsome young man in a bright purple T-shirt tossing around a huge yellow arrow.
That’s when he’d pointed out that sometimes a person on the outside could see things more clearly than the person who grew up doing something out of habit. That shift in thinking made her start to question other things she’d taken for granted.
She’d always been told that her predilection toward fiction, falling in love with imaginary characters and getting lost in their story, was a liability because it interfered with her ability to think critically and study the kinds of subjects that were deep and important. Like science.
But what if her dad was wrong?
“Call if you want, but you don’t have to worry about a thing. We’re going to have a great day. I just know it. Have fun.” Robyn started toward the office. “Catch the bouquet for me.” She paused. “No. On second thought, I don’t want it. I have six more years of college. I don’t have time for a husband.”
Her laugh made Jenna smile. She’d felt the same way when she set off for South Dakota State University. Big dreams. Lots of plans. Until one stupid decision blew everything to pieces.
She shook her head to get rid of the thought and hurried through the gate to her car, which was parked in the front row. The lot was less than a third full and most cars were parked a polite distance apart, even without formal lines on the gravel. Which is probably why she stopped and stared at the car beside hers. It was so close she was going to have to squeeze sideways to open the driver’s-side door.
She hoped the driver wasn’t one of her employees, who had been told to park on the far side of the lot. She couldn’t imagine any of them starting the first day of work by breaking the rules.
She was tempted to go back inside and find the culprit but decided she didn’t have time. She kept walking. As she got closer, she realized someone was inside the car. A man. He opened the door and got out as she approached.
A skittering sensation—like the ghostly draft she sometimes felt in Alice’s House—shot up her back. She hugged her arms to her chest to keep from shivering. There was gooseflesh on her bare skin. Strange, she thought, given the eighty-degree temperature.
“You just missed a tour, but there’ll be another one starting in ten minutes,” she said, slowing her pace. She felt an odd reluctance to get too close to him.
“Yes. I was looking over the pamphlet I picked up at my hotel,” the man said. His voice held a familiar Midwestern lilt, but he wasn’t a local.
Or a tourist, her mind said. Despite the Hawaiian print shirt, which he wore outside of his tan, cotton trousers.
Something about him wasn’t quite right, and her heart rate refused to go back to normal. She uncurled her fingertips, which still tingled from the initial adrenaline rush.
“There’s a waiting area that has information about the Mystery Spot’s history and a diorama of the grounds,” she said, pointing him in the direction of the ticket booth. Could the person working the booth see them? she wondered.
He made a noncommittal grunt but didn’t move. She should have found that nonthreatening, but she couldn’t shake her uneasiness. Something about him seemed familiar, and she racked her brain to place him. Then it hit her. He was the man from the limo who she’d seen outside the hotel.
She glanced at his car. A Lexus, but probably a rental since it had South Dakota plates. For some reason she didn’t find the fancy car reassuring, either.
She knew she was acting peculiarly but she couldn’t bring herself to walk to her car until the man was farther away. Something he didn’t seem inclined to do. In fact, he leaned his hip on the fender of his car and removed his sunglasses.
Jenna’s involuntary intake of air made him look her way. The beard was different. The lines around his eyes more pronounced. He had more gray. But the resemblance was there, if you were looking. This man was Shane’s brother. His twin.
He seemed to read her reaction because he said, “I was told I might find my brother here.”
Jenna’s pulse sped up and she stepped back involuntarily. The heel of her running shoe landed awkwardly on a rock and she stumbled slightly but kept her balance. She didn’t understand this irrational fear—that’s surely what it was—but she’d learned the hard way to pay attention to her subconscious. “No. He’s in town. At a friend’s wedding. I’m headed there myself. If you give me your number, I could have him call you.”
He didn’t look pleased. And the intensity of the look in his eyes was almost enough to send her sprinting back to the Mystery Spot. She stood her ground.
“You don’t remember me, do you? Adam Ostergren. We met once. Back in college. I was visit—”
She remembered. “I have to go. Like I said, if you want me to give Shane a message…”
Suddenly the musical jangle of a cell phone sounded. Jenna was surprised, since reception in this part of the mountains was so sketchy. Maybe he was one of the lucky few with satellite connections.
He walked to the door he’d left open and leaned over to locate his phone. The brief distraction was all Jenna needed to dash to her car, shimmy sideways and get in since it wasn’t locked. She used the master switch to lock all four doors then started the engine. She didn’t look back until he was a small image in her rearview mirror.
Her hands were shaking on the st
eering wheel and she felt almost giddy with relief but at the same time she felt silly. “Can you say paranoid?” she muttered, her face on fire. She wondered if that made her as messed up as her mother, only in a different way.
But no amount of embarrassment was enough to make her turn around and apologize for acting like a crazy woman. She didn’t owe Shane’s brother anything. If anything, he owed her. He was the last person she remembered talking to that night before everything went haywire. Not that he was ever a suspect. Shane had vouched for Adam’s whereabouts at the time of the rape, but Adam had left her in a vulnerable position that someone else took advantage of. That made him scum, in her book.
She wiped an errant tear from the corner of her eye and focused on pushing all the negative thoughts of her past out of her mind. Her best friend in the world was getting married to a great guy who loved her. Whatever Adam wanted was Shane’s problem, not hers.
SHANE FELT LIKE A FRAUD. His best friend was getting married and all Shane could think about was Jenna. She’d blown into the gathering as if a ghost were chasing her, then disappeared into the quaint little Hobbit house where the women were doing bridal things. She spared barely a glance in his direction.
Shane had attended a dozen or more weddings over the years, but this one was the most laid-back he’d ever seen. Only the groom seemed uptight.
“Relax, Coop. You’re as jumpy as ants in a frying pan.” The two men were standing together near a lattice gazebo that looked about a hundred years old with flowering vines and ornamental strawberries encircling the base.
Coop stopped fidgeting long enough to look at Shane. “Ants in a frying pan? Who says things like that?”
“Our character who runs the Oh-Zone. Jenna and I made him from the South. He’s an odd-duck loner who moved to this part of the country thirty years ago and set up shop. Started with a roadside attraction that grew and expanded. He’s brilliant but self-educated. Just the opposite of her father. Get it?”
Coop nodded. “When do I get to read the first script?”
“I e-mailed a rough draft to my secretary yesterday. She might have something ready for me to print later today.”
“Cool. I won’t be here, you know.”
They’d come as close to a fight over that fact as either could remember in their relationship. Cooper had insisted on taking his bride on a honeymoon. Shane could appreciate the tradition behind the gesture, but given their time constraints, he didn’t think two weeks in Bermuda was appropriate. They’d compromised. Libby and Coop were driving to Yellowstone.
“She went there as a child and has never been back,” Coop had said. “And we’ll only be gone four days. I promise.”
Four days. Shane hoped. Not that Coop had been a lot of help, but Shane knew actors. Cooper would have plenty to say about what he saw on the page if it didn’t live up to his expectations.
“How late do you expect the reception to run?”
“Six-ish.” He made a give-or-take gesture. “Calvin says guests can stay as late as they want. He and Mary will go to bed when they’re ready. The caterers will take everything with them when they go, so…I guess it depends on how long Libby wants to stay.”
Their conversation ended when a petite fairy in green silk dashed up to them. Char, Shane noticed, had dyed the highlights in her hair pale green to match the ribbons that fell from the waistband of her gathered tulle skirt.
“Give the violinist her cue, Coop. Libby’s chomping at the bit—” She made a face. “Forget that. Bad metaphor. She’s as serene and together as a regal princess and she’s ready to wed her prince. Or, in this case, you.”
“Char, why do you always give me such a rough time?”
“Somebody has to do it. Handsome men are all alike. They think they’re entitled. I’m just keepin’ it real.”
Coop looked hurt but only for a fraction of a second, then he gave a little hop. “Okay, then…let’s do this.”
Char and Kat slipped into their seats in front of the gazebo moments before the music started to play. As scripted, Jenna approached from the side door of the house rather than walk up the middle of the garden where the bride would make her entrance.
Once Jenna was standing at the gazebo directly across from Shane, the rest of the action fell into a gauzy background for him. He tried to pay attention, but his gaze kept returning to her.
Her dress fit as if it had been sewn for her. The fabric was polished cotton, a white background with splashes of color that could have come fresh from an artist’s palette. A swirl of cobalt blue lovingly cupped her right breast, which swelled above the scalloped neckline.
“Beautiful,” he mouthed.
Her cheeks turned the rosy hue he liked so much.
She wouldn’t meet his gaze after that. Instead she turned so she could watch Libby’s niece—a tiny vision in pink and white swinging a basket of rose petals as she led the procession. Next came Libby, barefoot and spectacular, on the arm of her brother. The female minister, who had been sitting—praying, Shane assumed—inside the gazebo stepped into place between him and Jenna.
Libby paused near the front of the small audience to slip a white rose from her bouquet and hand it to her grandmother, who was sitting in a wheelchair beside Calvin. She pressed a kiss on the elderly woman’s cheek then whispered, “I love you, Gran. Thank you, Cal.”
The intimate nature of the garden setting made it possible for everyone to hear her. Shane saw Jenna’s mother wipe a tear from her eyes.
Her grandmother smiled benignly, while calming the excited toy pooch on her lap.
“Dear friends and family of Elizabeth and Cooper, please join us in a prayer of love and good wishes for this couple.”
Shane didn’t pay too much attention to the actual vows. He was too busy staring at Jenna. Something wasn’t right. Her smile seemed frozen in place. She wasn’t the same person he talked to on the phone a few hours earlier. He’d called to let her know his secretary was cleaning up the notes they’d sent her and they should have a legitimate script for revisions later today. She’d been upbeat and positive. He’d detected no trace of fear or worry in her voice, but that’s exactly what he saw in her eyes.
When prodded by Cooper, Shane managed to produce the plain gold band Libby had insisted on. Moments later he bowed his head and joined the minister in praying for the married couple’s happiness. He applauded on cue and shook Coop’s hand and kissed the bride’s cheek. But the moment he had his chance, he stepped beside Jenna and whispered, “What’s wrong? Something happened.”
“Later.”
The slight tremor in her voice told him whatever the problem it was serious. They joined the short procession, but when they reached the end of the row of a raised bed filled with frothy green carrot tops, he took her hand and pulled her toward a weeping willow at the far edge of the garden. The lush drapery of green leaves provided an illusion of privacy. He kept a prudent distance between them in case people were looking. “Tell me.”
She looked toward the reception area. “It’s no biggie. I just feel stupid. Your brother showed up at the Mystery Spot and for some reason I overreacted.”
Adam is here? He tried to loosen the top button of his shirt, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate.
“What did he say?”
“Just that he was told he could find you there.” She hugged herself as if cold, but he knew that wasn’t the case. “When you see him, maybe you could apologize for me. I’m not good with strangers, especially strange men. And even after I recognized him…well…I told him I’d give you the message that he was in town, then I jumped into my car and drove away.” She looked at him. “I wasn’t exactly polite. In fact, I sorta panicked. I haven’t done that in years.”
He should have known his brother would show up eventually. Playing ostrich never worked in the past where Adam was concerned.
He let out a low, furious string of cuss words.
Her eyes went wide. “You weren’t kidding. You two really
don’t get along, do you?”
“I haven’t seen him in years. The last time we spoke on the phone was after my father died. When I told him I wasn’t going to the funeral and didn’t give a damn what he did with the estate.”
“Why? What happened between you?”
What happened to her happened between them, but he couldn’t tell her that. Or could he? Maybe with both his mother and father dead, Shane could rethink the validity of his vow. He didn’t owe his brother an ounce of loyalty. But would reopening the case be in Jenna’s best interest? His mother’s deathbed confession would be considered hearsay. Was that enough to bring charges against Adam? Maybe he should talk to a lawyer before he involved Jenna—for her sake, not his brother’s.
“Look,” he said, stalling. “I’m sorry he scared you. Adam can be damn intimidating when he wants to be. But now’s not the time or place to get into this. As maid of honor and best man, we both have toasts to make, right?”
She frowned but finally nodded.
He took her hand—more gently this time—and parted the curtain of green to lead them back to the festivities. Glasses of champagne were being served by waiters in black pants and white shirts. As they neared the others, she tried to pull her fingers free but he wasn’t ready to let go. Once she found out the truth, she’d never let him touch her again. He knew that for certain.
CHAPTER TEN
JENNA EASED BACK in the garden swing and drained her third glass of champagne. She wasn’t usually much of a drinker—and three glasses of bubbly over four hours wasn’t that extravagant—but if she closed her eyes she felt a little light-headed. That could be a reaction to Shane’s presence, she acknowledged.
He’d barely left her side all afternoon. Even now, she saw him checking on her from time to time as he helped load suitcases into the back of the small, sporty Subaru Tribeca SUV that Cooper had given Libby as a wedding present.
“It has third-row seating for all those kids we’re going to have,” Coop had said, causing Libby to roll her eyes and shake her head.
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