Lying in the warm bathwater, I let my mind wander. I wished I could have stayed at the Lookout. Maybe danced to a few songs. Not that Kelvin would have danced with me, but I bet the girls would have. And Jameson had come, right when we’d been leaving. I could have talked to him for a while, if we’d stayed.
But we hadn’t, and we were leaving town tomorrow. I was going over to see my dad one last time, and then we’d have to drive back to Pittsburgh so we could catch an early flight on Saturday morning back to L.A. To a home I’d never seen in a neighborhood I didn’t know. To an uncertain future.
I stayed up late, long after Kelvin had gone to bed, feeling lost and wondering what exactly I was doing with my life.
8
Leah Mae
I pulled up outside my dad’s house, a brown paper sack with our breakfast sitting on the passenger’s seat. I’d left Kelvin back at the cabin. I was still mad at him about last night. Plus, things were tense between him and my dad. I’d hoped once my dad got to know Kelvin, he’d warm up to him. Now I figured keeping them apart was better. Dad didn’t seem to hate him, but he wasn’t all that impressed either. And I wanted my last visit with my dad to be a good one.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Kelvin right now. Maybe it was just because we were fighting, and I was still annoyed about last night. We’d had arguments before, but this one felt different. Like it was breaking something open inside me. I was a little bit afraid of the feeling—afraid to face what it might mean.
I owed a lot to Kelvin. We’d met when I was twenty and in need of a new agent. I’d signed with his agency, and he’d been instrumental in nurturing my career. Nothing romantic had happened between us until about two years ago. But our relationship had grown naturally, mostly due to the amount of time we spent together.
I traveled so much, moving from place to place, there were few constants in my life. Especially when it came to people. I’d had a long string of model roommates, lived in temporary rentals, always surrounded by a sea of changing faces.
Kelvin had been a constant. He’d been the one meeting me at the airport. Helping me plan everything from itineraries to my next career moves. When I was exhausted or frustrated with my schedule—when the not-so-glamorous side of being a model was too much—he’d been the one I called. The one who understood. He lived the business just like I did. It was hard to find things in common with people who didn’t share the same lifestyle, and the world of modeling had provided a connection.
But how much of our relationship was based on my success? If my career went away tomorrow—if no acting gigs ever came through and I faded away into obscurity—would Kelvin still care about me? He’d always made me feel like I had someone to take care of me. But I’d also been making him a lot of money. What would happen if the money dried up? If I was no longer his star client? Would he still want me then?
And what did it say about our relationship that I didn’t know the answer to that question?
I got out of the car, grabbing our breakfast. The sun was warm on my skin, and birds chirped in the trees out back. Dad’s house wasn’t far from town, but a soft quiet was settled over his house. My ring glinted in the sunlight, and I paused, looking down at my hand.
When I’d agreed to marry Kelvin, it had seemed like an easy decision. He hadn’t really proposed, in the traditional sense. He’d brought up the idea, and we’d talked about how it made sense. Back in Los Angeles, having just returned from New York and getting ready to fly out to Wyoming to film Roughing It, getting married had seemed like the obvious next step. I hadn’t been starry eyed and squealing over my engagement ring. The ring itself had been an afterthought, picked up while we were out shopping for other things a few days later. But it had seemed sensible to get married.
The whole thing felt like a business arrangement. Like signing on with his modeling agency, only for life.
But I was probably being dramatic because of what had happened at the Lookout last night. Kelvin was out of his element, and yes, being kind of a jerk about it. But he wasn’t always that way. Bootleg Springs hadn’t grown on him the way I’d hoped it would, but it wasn’t his sort of place. He was an urban guy—born and raised in L.A. To him, a city of less than a million people was a small town. A place like Bootleg Springs was barely a neighborhood in his eyes. I’d grown up here, so I knew what it was like. He didn’t have the same nostalgia for it. I couldn’t expect him to fall in love with the place just because I’d lived here as a child.
I was sure that by the time we got back to L.A., everything would be back to normal. He’d figure out my next career move, we’d get married, and everything would be fine. Like he’d said, I was at a crossroads. I should be excited for what the future had in store.
In the meantime, I was going to have one last visit with my dad.
I knocked on the front door as I opened it. Of course it wasn’t locked. People didn’t lock their doors in Bootleg. It just wasn’t done.
“Hey, Daddy,” I said when I came in. “I brought breakfast.”
He hadn’t been on his front porch—which was strange because the weather was so nice—and he wasn’t in his recliner, either. His truck was outside, so I knew he had to be home. But looking around, I didn’t see him.
“Daddy?”
Betsy Stirling came out of the back bedroom. She was nearing fifty—pretty, with a bit of gray in her short blond hair. “Oh good, I was about to call you.”
“Is Dad okay?”
“Well, he is, and he isn’t,” she said. “He’s been having a bit of trouble breathing this morning. I made him call Doc Trevor. Doc said it was all right for Clay to stay home as long as he rests and doesn’t get worse. Otherwise, he’s to go get checked out at the hospital.”
“Oh, no.”
“I’ve been having a hell of a time keeping him from getting up for every little thing,” she said. “I tell you, Leah Mae, men either act like they’re dying when they have nothing but a bit of a cold, or they’re up and working when they’re at death’s door. There’s no in between.”
I sighed and put our food on the counter. “Thanks for checking in on him. I appreciate it.”
“No trouble at all, sweetie,” she said. “Now if you don’t mind me, I’ll get a few things done around here. You’re on keep-your-daddy-in-bed duty.”
“Got it,” I said. “Thanks.”
I let Betsy get on with her work while I unpacked our breakfast and put it on a tray I found in a cupboard. It was just muffins, but I wanted to make sure Dad didn’t get up. If he was supposed to rest, I was going to see to it that he did.
Dad was in bed with his head propped up against two pillows. His oxygen tank was on the far side of the bed, the rubber tubing running over the side. His skin was pale, almost ashen, and he coughed when I came in.
“Hey, Daddy.” I set the tray down on his dresser. “I brought breakfast.”
He coughed again, and I didn’t like the way it sounded. So raspy. “Thank you, sunshine.”
“That cough doesn’t sound so good.”
“I’m all right,” he said.
I sighed and helped him sit up a little more so he could eat.
“I think you’re just saying that so I won’t worry.” I pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down with my plate.
“I don’t want any fuss,” he said. He coughed again before he started eating.
“No fuss might mean you wind up in the hospital again,” I said.
He just grunted.
“Daddy, it’s okay to admit you’re not feeling well.”
“I just don’t want you changin’ your plans on account of me,” he said. “I’ll get on just fine.”
“Now that’s something I don’t want you worrying about,” I said. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I need you to be honest,” I said. “If you’re getting sick, you need to call me. If you feel worse, tell me about it. Let me help you. It’
s worse for me to find out later that you were sick. Even if I can’t make it home, I can still call around and make sure you have the help you need. And if you don’t, I’m going to bribe Betsy to spy on you and report back.”
The lines in the corners of his eyes deepened when he smiled. “All right, sweetheart. I will.”
“Promise?”
He laid his calloused hand on mine and squeezed. “Promise.”
We finished our breakfast and I stayed a while longer. He needed to rest, so I didn’t bother him, but I didn’t want to leave, either. I sat out on the front porch in his rocking chair and gazed out at the trees. Listened to the breeze. It was a nice day—not too hot. Would have been perfect for a dip in the lake. Or a walk through the woods.
Where would Jameson and I have gone today, if we were still kids? Probably the woods. We’d always liked to go exploring when it wasn’t too hot. Maybe he’d have shown me a new climbing tree. Or a bird’s nest he’d found. He’d been so good at spotting things that other kids missed.
I ran into town to make sure my dad had plenty of groceries before I had to leave. I stocked up on things that would be easy to prepare. When I got back to my dad’s house, he was sound asleep. He needed his rest, so I didn’t wake him. I left him a note assuring him I’d call to check on him when I got back to L.A.
I felt heartsick over having to leave my dad. And Bootleg. I needed some comfort food, so I texted Kelvin to let him know I was going out to eat at Moonshine—with or without him. He texted back to say he’d go with me, so I drove out to the cabin to pick him up.
Moonshine was a landmark in Bootleg Springs, with some of the best food you could hope for. A smiling Clarabell, with her brassy red beehive hairdo, seated us in a booth near the window.
“My goodness, Leah Mae Larkin,” Clarabell said when she came over to take our orders. “It is so lovely to see you back here in Bootleg Springs.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s nice to be home.”
Kelvin raised an eyebrow at me. “Home?”
“Bootleg Springs is always home,” Clarabell said with a wink. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” I said.
“Do you have anything that’s gluten-free?” Kelvin asked, still eying the menu.
“Hmm,” Clarabell said, tapping her pen against her chin. “I’m afraid here in Bootleg we’re not opposed to keepin’ the gluten in our food. Might I suggest a salad?”
“Just order something,” I said. “Get the open-faced turkey sandwich. It’s to die for.”
“You know I don’t eat things like that,” Kelvin said.
I sighed. “It won’t hurt you to cheat once in a while. It’s not like you actually have a gluten intolerance.”
“I get bloated,” he said in a low whisper.
Clarabell looked like she was trying to smother a grin.
“Salad,” he said. “Dressing on the side.”
“Will do,” Clarabell said and took our menus.
“Do you still need to pack, or are you ready?” Kelvin asked. “I want to get moving.”
I traced a little scratch on the surface of the table. I knew what I needed to do. I’d thought about it all day. But I also knew Kelvin was going to argue.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “I don’t think I should leave yet.”
“What?” Kelvin asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think I should stay a while. My dad is getting sick again. If he gets worse, he might wind up back in the hospital. I don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone.”
“Leah, he’s been taking care of himself for how many years?”
“He wasn’t sick for most of those years,” I said. “I don’t have any jobs coming up, so it’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”
“Not yet,” he said, his mouth twitching in a grin.
“What’s that smile for?”
“I talked to the producer over at Verity Studios,” he said. “They’re planning a show and they think you’d be a perfect fit.”
“What kind of show? Doesn’t Verity only do reality TV?”
“Imagine The Bachelor, only six men instead of one,” he said. “Dating shows have been done to death, but this is a twist that’s never been seen before.”
“Wait, I’m confused. Let’s come back to the fact that you just said dating show. What do you mean six men? You mean they each choose a woman?”
“No, I mean they all choose one,” he said. “And they have to agree who it’s going to be.”
“Six men all with the same woman?”
“It’s called a reverse harem,” he said. “Very progressive. Female positive. Puts a lot of power in the woman’s hands. People are going to eat it up.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“Kelvin, I can’t go on a dating show,” I said. “Let alone a dating show with six different men. That’s obscene.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m hardly being dramatic,” I said. “I can’t believe you would suggest something like this.”
“The studio is thrilled with your performance on Roughing It,” he said. “And with what’s coming in the later episodes, it’s going to set you up perfectly for this show.”
“What’s coming in later episodes?”
“I don’t have any details,” he said. “That’s just what they told me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You haven’t heard what it pays.”
“I don’t care what it pays,” I said. “The answer is no.”
“You won’t say that when I show you the contract,” he said. “They realize this is a stretch, so they’re willing to compensate you. And Leah, it’s not like you have other offers coming in.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why that would be. Oh—maybe it’s because I look like a skank on their current reality show.”
Kelvin rolled his eyes. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. This show is going to be all the rage.”
Clarabell brought our food, but my appetite was gone.
“I don’t want to be known as a reality TV whore. A show like that isn’t going to take my career in the right direction.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about your career,” he said. “You just keep looking pretty.”
I gaped at him. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. Besides, why would you want me on a dating show? I thought we were engaged.”
“We are,” he said. “But the world doesn’t need to know about it. After the show wraps, we can get married. No big deal.”
“What if I decide I’d rather be with the six bachelors and have my harem?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “I guess that’s a risk I’ll have to take.”
“Do not book me for that show.”
“We have time,” he said. “They won’t finalize casting until next month.”
I picked at my food but didn’t continue the argument. He’d only get more stubborn if I kept refusing. I’d wait a little bit and bring it up again when he wasn’t as likely to be defensive. Or maybe a better offer would come in and I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
“I’m serious about staying here in Bootleg. I’m not leaving today.”
His jaw set in a hard line. “I don’t want you staying here.”
“That’s not your decision. It’s my father, Kelvin.”
He stared at me for a second, and I wondered how difficult he was going to make this. I stared right back.
Finally, he shook his head and let out a long breath. “All right. Stay. But if something comes up, you need to be ready to get on a plane to L.A.”
“I’ll make it work. And I can stay with my dad. He doesn’t have an extra bed, but I’ll sleep on his couch.”
Another sigh, but this one wasn’t so combative. “No, let me see if you can keep the cabin.”
“I’ll call Scarlett,�
� I said. “If it’s not available, she might know of something else.”
“Fine. But don’t stay here too long. It took a lot of dialect coaching to get rid of your accent. Don’t go all country on me.”
“Y’all are worryin’ about nothin’,” I said in my best Appalachian twang.
Kelvin just shook his head.
9
Jameson
It was with no small amount of reluctance that I followed Jonah into Moonshine. The smell of fresh coffee and pancakes on the griddle greeted us. Normally I wouldn’t mind an early Saturday family meeting. Whit cooked up the best waffles in Olamette County, and that was a fact. But even the promise of waffles for breakfast wasn’t enough to lighten my mood this morning.
Leah Mae had left town yesterday.
I was doing my best to act like nothing was wrong. Wasn’t about to let on that I was missing her already. How would I explain that? She wasn’t mine to miss. She was going back where she belonged. Better for everyone this way.
My head sorta believed that, but there was this feeling in my chest—an ache that wouldn’t go away—that said my heart disagreed.
I glanced at my phone again, wondering if she was going to say goodbye. That was probably what hurt the most. I hadn’t heard a word from her. I understood her not having time to come see my shop. She’d said she wasn’t sure, what with her daddy being sick lately. I wasn’t bothered by that. I’d hoped she would have at least sent me a text that she was leaving. But I hadn’t heard a peep.
All those thoughts of Leah Mae did not put me in the mood for socializing with my siblings. But Jayme had called Bowie to let him know we could get back into Dad’s house. So it was time to make a plan.
Bowie was already in a booth with a cup of coffee. Jonah and I slid in next to him just as Scarlett and Devlin wandered in. They both looked tired. I wondered if something had kept them up late, but quickly decided I didn’t want to know.
“Mornin’ y’all,” Scarlett said. “Clarabell, this girl needs caffeine, and lots of it.”
Sidecar Crush (Bootleg Springs Book 2) Page 7