by Taylor Hart
Michelle sighed, looking bored, and sat on the edge of her desk. “Listen, don’t worry about all of this.” She flashed a smile as she gestured to the reporters. “This is good for business. What’s that saying, ‘all PR is good PR’? Plus, we got this, boss. We’re getting things into place with the resort, Montana, Cooper Harrison’s place, all the venues and all the major players. Cooper’s hosting most of the bigwigs coming to town, which takes a huge amount of pressure off of us. So we just have to make sure the events and the food are lined up. We can do this. We got it.” She flicked her hand, imitating a whipcrack. “I got it under control.”
Letting out a troubled sigh, Paris felt doubtful. Actually, she didn’t feel doubtful; she felt like something was coming for her, like a tsunami or a hurricane, and she should run for higher ground like the animals. An idea took hold of her. “If you can handle things, I’m going to get away for a bit.” Yes. Yes! That was what she would do. Shane would be picking up Ty today, so that was good. There may be some press, but Shane could handle it. She could go somewhere they wouldn’t find her, where no one would think to look for her.
She began cleaning up her laptop. “I’ll still be available, but I’m turning off my location finder,” she said quickly, disabling that part of her iPhone. “Shane is picking Ty up after school and they are leaving in the morning for their ‘family’ cruise.” She looked up at Michelle, who was loyally cocking an eyebrow in displeasure for her.
“Oh, right, the family moon cruise,” Michelle said sarcastically.
Even though Paris hadn’t meant to be snide about the “new wife,” sometimes it was easier to accept than other times. Right now, on the precipice of having her child taken away for ten days, it was harder to accept.
Paris gathered key files that she would need to work while she was away from the office. She put her laptop in a case, and then turned to Michelle. “I’m going out the back door, but please give me twenty minutes. And tell them I am gone for the day, you don’t know when I’ll be back, and to please leave the premises.”
“No problem,” Michelle said, smiling. “You have a relaxing weekend, and when we come back on Monday, we’ll be ready for the week.”
Paris let out a breath and hugged her. “Thank you.”
Minutes later, she snuck out in a grey hoodie, happy she’d parked down the street in the public parking after deciding not to take up a space in front of her little office on Main Street. The office was an old home converted to an office, as many were on the older part of Jackson Main Street. She sprinted to her car, not taking any chances by revealing her red hair or giving any cause for someone to notice her.
Since Shane was picking up Ty, there was really no reason she had to go home. She’d given Shane the bag already packed this morning, and she’d skip out on the press she knew would be stalking her house. Taking a sharp turn, she went to a grocery store to stock up on some food, and then she would head to her grandpa’s cabin. She had clothes up there that would allow her to stay for a couple of days.
Her father had inherited the cabin, but rarely used it because he lived a couple of hours away in Twin Falls, Idaho. Yes, she felt more certain going to the cabin for a couple of days would be good. She could hide from everything.
Logan. As she thought of him, a sharp stab of pain hit the center of her chest, and she wondered again at how easily it had all fallen apart between them that year. Like a tightly knit sweater that has just the right string pulled to make unraveling a seamless process.
After spending a half hour buying essentials, she put it all in her trunk and took off for the cabin. It was about a forty-minute drive away, close to Star Valley, Wyoming.
As she drove it, she was amazed how much difference the forty minutes meant between the expanding and touristy Jackson to the ranch town of Star Valley. Growing up, she’d loved coming to visit her grandfather and spend weeks at a time at his cabin.
When she pulled up and turned off her car, what surprised her most was not how many memories she had of being here with Logan, but rather the peace that they brought. Because of his family circumstances, he’d spent a lot of time out here with her grandpa, too. Her grandpa had always liked Logan.
Getting out, she breathed in the smell of pine trees and could see the dock on the water from where she stood. All the stress unwound from her. Yes, it had been a good decision to come here to get away. So what if Logan Slade showed up in Jackson and wanted to have a press show. She wouldn’t be there. So ha!
Truthfully, her staff was very capable, so she really could work on a few things and pass off the rest to Michelle to disseminate. Plus, before she knew it, there’d be another vlog post from Kim, where Logan and her would be making out, as usual, and showing off all their ritzy possessions. She wouldn’t be looking at news here. This cabin didn’t even have Wi-Fi. If she wanted to send things, she would have to tap into her personal hot spot on her phone. She wasn’t a fan of personal cell phone hot spots, which would help to cure the desire to check the Internet for anything that wasn’t essential.
What a relief! Being disconnected was a huge weight off her shoulders.
Taking the key from under the planter box, she opened up the cabin. The first thing she noticed was the dust and that musky smell. Putting down her bag, she opened windows, pulled out the handy feather duster, and took the next hour to dust everything, then pulled the sheets off of the furniture and took them outside to shake out. She realized she hadn’t even been here last summer. The summer had flown by between the divorce starting and figuring out custody.
Sadness settled in her gut as she stared at the dock. Leaving the sheets stacked on the porch bench, she went to the old boathouse. When she opened it, the boat was covered. Grandpa had always taken immaculate care of it, but the whole place was dusty too. She should have someone come out and service it, leave it out for the summer and bring Ty up for boating. Maybe even bring some of his friends. She’d failed at giving Ty the same memories she’d cherished so much.
She sighed and thought of her cute son. Her heart had melted as she’d said goodbye to him today. That was the thing about divorce: kids only got one parent at a time. Shane had agreed to let Ty live with her during the year, but he got half the summer, so even if Ty wasn’t on a cruise, he would have been at his dad’s.
She thought of Shari Bolton and how she would always greet Ty with a cheesy, happy smile. Well, at least the stepmom was nice to her kid. Pulling out her phone, she texted Shane. At Grandpa’s cabin, please don’t tell the press.
Instantly he texted back. Avoiding Logan, are we? Even though it was a text, she could sense the snarky attitude. She ignored it and slipped her phone back into her pocket.
Just because the reports said he left LA didn’t mean he was coming to Jackson. How would they even know he was coming to Jackson? Plus, he would be a paparazzi magnet. There would be no way he would be able to get very far in Jackson without getting stormed by media.
Exhaling, she left the boathouse and pulled the door tightly closed behind her. As she walked out onto the dock, she noted that the early summer was heating up nicely. She couldn’t see any other boats out today. Usually, June would be when people—traditional families, mostly—would swarm over to rent the cabins and start boating.
She’d thought when she married Shane they would be one of those traditional families that would come every summer. Shane wasn’t really into the boat. It had been Logan who loved it. Staring across the water, all she knew was that old memories of Logan had resurfaced, and the only thing she could do was hide from the man and from the memories.
Chapter 6
Logan pulled into Jackson Hole around four o’clock. He’d only stopped to use the bathroom and gas up. It’d been a long drive. Winding through the main part of town, he was impressed at the way it had built up so much. Jackson Hole had become huge in the blink of an eye. Making his way home was a slow process. He found himself taking time to appreciate all the changes he didn’t reme
mber happening in the town where he’d grown up.
He needed to talk to his father. Dread had surged within him throughout the drive. His father was an alcoholic—functional when he was a kid, and then not functional when Logan had gotten into high school. Logan didn’t even know if his dad would be here. He had to talk to someone who could give him the lay of the land.
He’d decided he didn’t know anything about Paris. Obviously, they hadn’t gotten married like he’d planned.
As he drove past the center of town, he saw the sign for “Smith Insurance: Friends You Can Rely On.” He smirked, thinking Shane’s company hadn’t changed since high school. He wondered what he was doing in this alternate reality. Maybe he was there? No. Shane had never wanted to do what his dad did. He would find out about Shane later; right now he had to focus at the moment. He pushed on, winding through the older streets downtown until he got to his house.
Well, not his house. That had clearly been bulldozed, and a fancy new house stood in its place. He parked and got out, tentatively shutting the door and moving toward the house. It wasn’t huge, just a modest home, but as he ventured up the steps and knocked on the door, the pit of his stomach had that feeling like something was very, very wrong.
He had been standing there just long enough to start feeling uncomfortable when a young lady balancing a baby on her hip opened the door. She covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh, you came here?”
Logan’s heart raced. “Where’s my father?”
The woman stared at him. “I heard on the news you’d left Kim in LA.”
It was weird having people know things about him in such a public way. “My father?”
Before she could answer, a black truck pulled noisily up to the curb. The window rolled down to reveal Shane, definitely older than Logan had last seen him. “I saw you drive into town. Get in, Logan, we need to talk.”
Logan stared at Shane, hesitating.
Shane gestured to the truck. “Come on, now, hotshot.”
Hotshot—that’s what Shane had always called him. It was the first comforting thing he’d heard since waking from the coma.
“I’m sorry,” the woman at the door said.
Tentatively, Logan moved down the steps and went around to climb into the passenger side of the truck, a bit freaked out at seeing this older version of Shane. Logan had some wrinkles around his eyes, but he was in the best shape of his life; he’d never been cut in high school like he was now. Shane was Shane, but different. Still pretty in shape, but not Logan’s in-shape. He looked exactly like his father.
Shane took off with a jerk, yanking the steering wheel sharply as he took the turn onto Main Street. “So you came home.”
“What’s going on, Shane? Seriously, the last thing I remember is being in that stupid huddle.”
Shane turned and pulled his sunglasses off. The steel of his blue eyes looked the same, yet it was different. He was different. “What is your game, Logan?”
“Game? Game? I … what are you talking about?” It hurt, the way Shane looked at him like they weren’t friends. Best friends.
Shane turned onto the old highway that led toward Jackson Peak and gunned it. “I can’t … Is this some game, some ploy to get Paris back? Isn’t All-Stars enough? Is this your ticket away from Kim, or just some publicity stunt?”
The part of his head that he’d landed on had ached, but now it burned like it was on fire. He rubbed it, suddenly woozy, and sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
Shane swerved, and Logan saw they were pulling into the insurance business. A wave of nausea passed over him and he felt sweat break out on his face.
Shane parked, then helped him out. Tugging Logan’s arm around his shoulders, Shane brought him into the office. “The secretary’s gone for lunch, so maybe we can sneak you into the conference room without a big to-do.” He swore. “Man, you’re heavy.”
Logan noticed the remodel of the insurance office had been extensive. “It looks good in here,” he said weakly, and then cringed as another stabbing pain pulsed through him.
“Shut up,” Shane said more softly, hauling him into a large room. They headed for the corner of the room, passing a large table and its surrounding chairs, and Shane gently set him down on the floor. “Hold on.” Shane left the room.
Logan leaned back and closed his eyes and felt throbbing pain through his head and down his shoulders.
Shane returned, lifting Logan’s head and stuffing something soft beneath it. “Dad has a catnap pillow. He’s out today.”
Logan was grateful for the comfort and put his hand on his stomach, hoping he wouldn’t throw up. Not that he had anything to throw up. He hadn’t really thought about food. “I never thought you’d sell insurance.”
The sound of blinds closing rattled and Shane called out, “Yeah, bet you didn’t.”
Logan didn’t know why Shane sounded like he hated him. What could have possibly happened over those eight years that would come between him and Shane? He felt like he’d just been gut-punched.
“Have you eaten anything? Drank anything?”
Logan steeled himself against the mental image of the new house falling from the sky and crushing his old house. The woman—Kim, his fiancée—pushed herself to the forefront of his mind, followed by the anger on Shane’s face when he’d first rolled down the window. Logan opened one eye, seeing Shane pull something out of a small fridge. “What kind of a jerk did I turn into?” The pain in his head assaulted him again, and nausea made him clutch his gut. “Argh!”
Shane returned and lifted him up, pressing the water bottle to his lips. Logan didn’t want to drink, but he managed a couple of gulps. The nausea lessened. Logan lay back down, keeping his eyes closed. He heard the crinkle of a wrapper, and then a honey-sweet protein bar prodded at his mouth.
“Eat,” Shane ordered, much quieter this time. “I don’t know if a protein bar will be too hard on your stomach, but I don’t have a ton of options here. I know if I take you anywhere, press will swarm you, and needless to say this really isn’t the predicament I wanted to find myself in today.”
Logan took a bite. Protein bars, in his experience eight years ago, were more like cardboard than anything, but this one wasn’t so bad, and he finished it on his own.
Shane sat him up. “Another drink.”
Logan gulped it down. “Why are you helping me if you hate me so much?”
Shane swore, gently helped him down, and then rushed out. “I’m getting you some ibuprofen and Tylenol.”
Logan lay there, his eyes still closed. Luckily, the pain and nausea quickly abated. He felt around in his mind, focusing on the central part of the pain at the back of his head, which now felt a bit soothed. Bracing himself with his hands and using his stomach muscles, he pulled himself to a sitting position, and then scooted back and propped himself up on the wall. He grabbed the bottle of water and chugged it down. He hadn’t really thought about eating; he’d just gotten up in the middle of the night and left.
Shane came back in, and Logan was once again surprised to see his friend now looked like a man.
“What?” Shane frowned, handing him the ibuprofen and Tylenol. “Are you having any flashbacks to sophomore year in college when I’d come help you after your big nights out drinking?”
Logan took the ibuprofen and Tylenol and swigged it back, finishing the water. “What are you talking about?” Logan had watched his father drink himself into oblivion. He’d sworn he’d never be that way.
Shane stared down at him, trying to decide if he should believe him or not. Even if it had been eight years that Logan had forgotten, he and Shane had known each other their whole lives.
Shane clenched his hand into a fist and glared at Logan. “I cannot believe you’re here. I can’t believe it.” He moved to the large window in the conference room that overlooked Main Street. “You know how we always used to be in tune growing up? How on the nights you’d co
me stay at my house because your dad was in one of his rages, I just … felt it?” He put a hand to his stomach. “Right in my gut. I’d get up and get the sleeping bag out and unlock my window. It would never fail, you would be lying in it on the floor in the morning. Remember that?”
“Uh, yeah, because for me that just happened last week.”
“What?” Shane narrowed his eyes. “Well, it happened to me right before I looked up and saw your Mustang on Main Street.”
Logan leaned back against the wall. He didn’t know if it was the food or the water or what, but the pain in his head was going back to the dull ache instead of the massive pounding. “Dude, the last thing I remember is getting ready to go into the championship game. We were in two plays and had come in for a huddle. Remember how I passed out?”
Shane seemed to be thinking, and then he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, you did pass out before the big game.”
“Did we take state?” Logan sat up, suddenly invested in that game.
Shane grunted. “Yep.”
Logan felt elated, putting up a fist.
Shane hesitated, then reluctantly followed suit, and they fist-bumped.
“What?” Logan asked.
“You really don’t remember the last eight years?”
Logan shook his head. He wasn’t as jittery as he’d been in the hospital yesterday; he was getting more used to this new world. It felt better now that Shane was here. “Nope.”
“What did the doctors say?”
“They said it could come back at any time. There’s not bleeding or anything.” But Logan chafed at what felt like helplessness, and he squirmed just thinking about it. “There was talk that maybe I was repressing something I didn’t want to remember.”
Shane casually sat on the floor in front of him. “This is crazy.” He stewed in silence for a moment, and then he went on. “I can’t believe I saw you drive through town. Man, it’s like our lives are so connected. I’m never gonna be able to get away from you.”