Rosemary Run Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  Seeing the red drops as they rolled down her body and plopped onto the sheet was a surreal experience. Eve felt disconnected from the blood, like it was coming from someone else. Just like her screams.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Escalating further, Eve thrashed and kicked, her naked flesh becoming exposed again. She flailed like a child having a temper tantrum. Her whole body got into the action, heaving and pushing. She was a bundle of terror, the intensity expressed in the only way her body knew how at that moment.

  “What in the hell?”

  The question came from the man in bed beside her. He was bleary-eyed, but alarmed by the dramatic scene unfolding around him.

  Eve suddenly stopped screaming, the reality of her whereabouts flashing into focus. She looked at the man. He looked back, dumbfounded.

  Eve opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she picked herself up, clawing at the clothing strewn around the floor beside the bed. She wasn’t sure it was hers. She wasn’t processing. It didn’t matter much if it was hers. Not right then. She needed to get out of there. And fast.

  “Wait!” the man called.

  Eve glanced at him, but didn’t stop moving. With the balled up sheet and a few items of clothing in hand, she frantically scanned the room for an exit. A set of sliding glass doors led to a backyard patio. She set her sights, then rushed forward. Only she misjudged the situation and slammed into the cool glass.

  Her head took the brunt of the impact. Eve saw stars and thought she might pass out. She stumbled around, reaching an arm out to steady herself. But there was nothing to grab onto. No one to help steady her.

  How badly she wanted Tim. If he were there, he would cradle her in his embrace and tell her everything would be okay. It’s what he always did when his wife got out of sorts. She needed him now. Oh, so much.

  “Tim!” Eve cried as she fell to the floor, crashing down in an oppressive haze that refused to let her loose. “Tim! I need you. Come and get me, Tim.”

  As her awareness faded to black, Eve saw the strange man’s feet in front of her. She couldn’t fathom who he was or what he was doing there. She just wanted her husband. He would know what to do.

  And then, everything went completely black.

  2

  It was a typical day on the resort grounds for Wilder and Phoebe. The sun shone brightly through the canopy of trees as the couple scattered cornmeal on the grass for their chickens. Mornings were cool this time of year, so the Blackburns offered their feathered friends a warm breakfast. When Wilder felt like it, he added boiled eggs and yogurt into the feed for a tasty treat. This morning’s meal included both.

  Wilder was a jovial guy. He could keep himself and those around him entertained in even the most difficult times. Visitors to Brambleberry Fields enjoyed the fun touches he added to their experience. In that spirit of fun, Wilder had named the hens on the property after legendary old Hollywood actresses. The most outgoing of the bunch were Greta Garbo, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Elizabeth Taylor, and Marilyn Monroe. Neat wooden name plates hung from their coop along with custom portraits painted by Bea Earl, a local artist.

  It was the kind of detail that made the resort special.

  Greta was the leader of the pack. She was a pretty black and white with red around her beak. She ruled the roost when the rooster, Rock Hudson, wasn’t around. She strutted proudly as the flock ate, surveying her domain.

  “You sleep well?” Wilder asked the hen.

  He talked to them like you would any pet.

  “And how about you, Marilyn?” Wilder asked as she scrambled to get her turn in the spotlight.

  Marilyn was a pretty golden color with the same red around her beak.

  The girls were lookers, that was for sure.

  Phoebe smiled as she watched her husband talk to the chickens. She loved Wilder fiercely. They had met when they were in college in their early twenties, and they fully intended to be one of those couples who die of old age on the same day while holding each other’s hands. Their love was a sweet one, obvious to everyone who spent even a few minutes with them together.

  “You’re so silly,” Phoebe said to her husband.

  “What?” he replied, teasing. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of all these beautiful girls who flock around me every morning.”

  “Ha!” Phoebe laughed. “You mean Greta and Marilyn?”

  “Those are the ones. Beautiful girls.”

  “Should I be jealous?” Phoebe continued, smiling. “Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Blackburn?”

  Wilder laughed, then swung an arm around his wife and pulled her close. “You’re my one and only, Mrs. Blackburn. Until my dying day. You know that.” He kissed her on the top of the head as he gave her a squeeze.

  “I know,” she said softly. “It’s still nice to hear.”

  “I’ll tell you every day. I don’t mind repeating myself,” Wilder affirmed.

  Marilyn clucked, apparently pleased.

  The couple heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind them. They didn’t have to turn and look to see who it was. They already knew.

  “Morning, Holden,” Wilder said.

  The eldest of the Blackburn children worked full time as the resort’s Director of Operations. He had gone all the way to New York City to earn an MBA from Columbia, only to return to the family business and put his knowledge to good use. He was a striking man with rugged good looks. He kept his blonde hair trimmed short. It fit with his tall stature and athletic physique. He looked every bit the part of a military colonel. Or a politician. Holden Blackburn seemed destined to be a leader.

  “Morning, Mom and Dad,” Holden said cheerfully.

  Holden and his wife Lorelei had four young kids of their own. Three boys and a girl, just like their parents. They were doing their part to keep the Blackburn name going. They were a happy family. They were everything Wilder and Phoebe had hoped.

  It was picture perfect.

  “How are my grandbabies this morning?” Phoebe asked her son as he fell in step beside her and she put one arm around him. “Did they get pancakes and fruit in the shape of a face like they requested? Because I can have Doris make them some here at the restaurant if you like…”

  “No need,” Holden said. “They got them all right. Lorelei made pancake faces a couple of hours ago. All four kiddos are full and happy. Off to school, as usual.”

  “Good,” Phoebe said. “Lorelei is so good.”

  “She is,” Holden affirmed. “That’s why I married her.”

  Holden’s relationship with his wife truly was a good one. Also like his parents.

  Lorelei was from Jamaica. She and Holden had met in New York when they were both in graduate school. Trained as an attorney, Lorelei was taking time away from her career to be a stay at home mom while the kids were little. And it was a full house. Lorelei’s own mother, Imogen Clarke, had been staying with the family as she recovered from hip surgery.

  Holden and his parents walked quietly as a gentle wind blew across the hillside, rustling leaves and blades of grass.

  The property sat on some of the most spectacular natural beauty in the entire Northern California wine country region. Brambleberry Fields was a gem for the town of Rosemary Run. Many of the tourists who came to town stayed at the Blackburn’s resort, either at the inn or in one of the lake-side cottages.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Wilder asked his son.

  Wilder and Phoebe were technically still in charge, but they let Holden head things up and make day-to-day decisions. He was perfectly capable. Even his siblings knew it. His leadership style was to rule by example. He motivated those around him because they wanted to please him.

  “We’re completely booked this weekend,” Holden said. “We have the Springers coming in from Kansas City for their wedding on Saturday. They arrive on Thursday, so we have a few days to finish the prep.”

  “Are they using the wedding garden, or staying in the l
odge?” Phoebe asked.

  “The lodge only,” Holden confirmed. “They didn’t want to risk it being too cold outside. I think that was a wise decision.”

  “Agreed,” Wilder said.

  “I think the bride wanted to wear a strapless dress,” Holden added. “Inside is definitely a safer bet.”

  Phoebe opened her eyes wide for dramatic effect. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Inside! We wouldn’t want complaints because the bride was freezing. We can’t control the weather, after all.”

  They laughed together.

  “Is your brother ready to brief us?” Phoebe asked.

  “He is,” Holden confirmed. “Both of them are. We’ll go over everything in our morning meeting in about half an hour. Marcus, too. It’s all hands on deck.”

  Jake Blackburn, Wilder and Phoebe’s second son, handled events for the resort.

  Ty Blackburn, their third son, handled the on-site winery, the wine tasting room and everything related. Ty’s husband, Marcus Blackburn, handled food service and catering.

  Brambleberry Fields truly was a family affair.

  “When will Eve be back to work?” Wilder asked. “I haven’t talked to her or Tim in several days. I trust their flight got in safely and that they had fun in the Keys.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t heard from Sis in a while either,” Holden confirmed. “I told her to take all the time she wanted. She always works hard for us. She deserves a break. I’m fine as long as she returns by the end of the week.”

  “Really?” Phoebe asked. “You don’t worry about her?”

  “Eh, not really. Tim looks after her.”

  “I know,” Phoebe says. “But sometimes I wonder if Tim realizes what he’s gotten into. You know? She’s been better in the past few years since she’s known him.”

  “We’ve told him, Phoebe,” Wilder said. “That’s all we can do.”

  Holden nodded his agreement.

  “But, she’s ours… I can’t help but worry,” Phoebe continued. “You know what I’m talking about. All the changes in her routine might cause a disruption…”

  “I know,” Wilder said softly to his wife. “She’s our baby girl. Always will be.”

  “And my baby sis,” Holden added.

  “Tim will look after her,” Wilder continued. “Let’s focus on the resort. It’s good to keep busy. No time to worry that way.”

  “I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Phoebe said, her forehead tightening as she thought about it all.

  Holden and Wilder shared a knowing glance. They didn’t want Phoebe to get worked up. They knew her concerns were valid, but they also knew there wasn’t much any of them could do. Eve’s troubles had begun in high school, more than ten years ago now. They had taken her for the best treatment money could buy. Her condition would be a lifelong challenge.

  “Hey, let’s focus on the positive,” Holden said. “Back to business. Our employees are the best. They’re filling in for Eve while she’s away. We’re good.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Wilder said.

  “Of course, you do,” Phoebe said. “I love you for all your clowning, Wilder. But it can’t fix everything.”

  Holden raised a hand to halt them, just before they entered the lodge.

  “Look, Mom,” he began. “We’re going into a business meeting now. Remember that not everyone working here is family, even though it seems like it sometimes.”

  “I know,” Phoebe said. “And you’re our fearless leader.”

  “I try,” Holden replied with a chuckle.

  Wilder smiled big at his son. Ready to focus on the positive, as his son suggested.

  “So, Mom,” Holden continued. “If you want to call and check in with Sis and Tim, do it now. Out here. But the resort is doing just fine without Sis. I vote for giving them space. I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Phoebe took a deep breath to calm herself. She tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. It was hard to be a parent of a child who had such challenges in life. It was hard to butt out. Her instincts told her to hover. To stay close, on high alert. The boys hadn’t needed the same attention. They grew and developed normally, capable of handling themselves in the adult world. But Eve was different.

  “Okay,” Phoebe said. “You’re right. You’re both right. I said I’d back off and give her some space.”

  “Thank you,” Holden replied. “Now, let’s get down to business. Never a dull moment around here. Plenty to talk about.”

  Phoebe nodded, then followed her husband and son into the building.

  3

  The conference room was packed when Holden and his parents entered. Brambleberry Fields employed nearly six hundred people. Chefs, gardeners, a preservationist, a beekeeper, sommeliers, guest service men and women, concierge, housekeeping, corporate support, retail personnel, as well as grounds and maintenance teams. It was a large operation.

  Key employees from each department participated in the weekly Monday morning meeting to touch base. This morning, a total of fifteen individuals sat at the ready, eager to do their part.

  Jake, Ty, and Marcus were all present. They smiled and nodded to greet their elder family members.

  The resort was casual and rustic, so no one wore suits and ties. But they were all dressed in the appropriate attire for their positions, many of them in neat, clean uniforms. They looked sharp.

  “Hello, everyone,” Holden said as he stepped to his place at the head of the table and set his briefcase down. Phoebe and Wilder took their seats at his side.

  “Hello… Good morning… Happy Monday…” the crowd bubbled in reply.

  “You’re all looking wonderful this morning. Your pride in our humble resort is showing,” Holden said. “I might be biased, but I think we have the best team this side of the Mississippi… If not in all of America.”

  Holden’s employees practically cooed in response, basking in the sincere praise from their boss. He had a knack for this.

  Wilder winked at his son. He and Phoebe had built this business, after all. And they were pleased with Holden’s handling of it. It was a dream come true for them, actually.

  “Alright,” Holden began, sitting down in his chair. “Let’s get to it. We have a busy week. There’s the usual weekday guests, the restaurant, wine tastings, the shop, the scheduled adventure activities plus live music in the barn on Friday night and the Springer wedding on Saturday. The wedding will have five hundred attendees. We all have to be on top of our game to ensure things go off without a hitch.”

  The group laughed at the choice of words, winking and smiling at each other.

  “Or maybe I should say, with a hitch,” Holden corrected, chuckling.

  A few good-natured comments followed, the group relaxing into their familiar rapport.

  Little did the Blackburn family know, one of their own was in great peril. Phoebe was right to worry about Eve. The baby of the bunch needed them now more than ever. But no one knew it. No one but the mystery man who had shared Eve’s bed.

  “Who wants to give their weekly update first?” Holden asked the team.

  Jake raised his hand, ever the obedient little brother striving to make Holden proud. “I will.”

  Wilder nodded his approval and winked at his boys. He was proud of the way they worked well together. He often thought about his legacy and what he and Phoebe would leave to their children. Wilder wanted his kids to enjoy running the resort. He never wished for them to feel trapped or obligated. Not on his account.

  “Then you’re up,” Holden said to Jake. “Let’s hear from our Director of Events.”

  Jake stood up, a few inches shorter than Holden but every bit as handsome. He had the same blonde hair, but blue eyes instead of Holden’s brown. Jake could command a room in his own right. He had excelled in undergraduate business school in San Francisco, then a graduate program in hospitality management. He was well prepared for his job.

  “Thanks, bro,” Jake began, enjoying the camaraderie. “We’re in
good shape for the Springer wedding, assuming everyone does their part. As most of you know, this is one of the larger weddings we’ve hosted at Brambleberry Fields. We only do four or five this size each year. You’d be surprised how much more difficult it is to host five hundred people as compared to two hundred and fifty.”

  “I hear that,” Holden commented.

  “Exponentially harder,” Jake continued. “Proper prior planning is everything. You all remember the seven Ps, right?”

  They did. The group recited them together.

  “That’s correct,” Jake confirmed. “Proper prior planning prevents piss poor performance.”

  Holden laughed. Jake was a little more direct and less diplomatic than he was with employees, but it worked for him.

  “Anything we should watch out for?” one of Jake’s assistants asked, his face eager.

  “Good question,” Jake replied. “I like questions. There are no wrong questions.”

  The assistant nodded, agreeing with Jake and appreciating his enthusiasm. “Yes, sir.”

  “Honestly, we’re in pretty good shape,” Jake said. “We have our processes refined and we know how to host a flawless, memorable event. The biggest concern right now in my mind, is the weather.”

  The group mumbled and chatted amongst themselves. They had heard the forecast.

  “That’s right,” Marcus inserted.

  He and Ty had only been married for two years, but it felt to the Blackburns like Marcus had always been a part of the group. He was a welcome addition, along with the couple’s baby girl, Bethany.

  Little Bethany was born with the help of an egg donor and surrogate. It was one of the times in Wilder and Phoebe’s lives when they were tremendously grateful for the financial abundance that made such a miracle of modern medicine accessible to their son and his husband. Ty and Marcus chose an egg donor with rich brown skin and strong features like Marcus’. With the donor’s egg fertilized by Ty’s sperm, Bethany’s skin tone and features looked as if she was a genetic mix of her two dads. Strangers couldn’t tell which of her dads was the biological one. That suited Ty and Marcus just fine. Bethany was theirs. Biology be damned.