She looked down, feeling a strange connection to this totally helpless creature who had…no one. Then she looked at the lodge again, and she waved. A kitchen curtain fluttered in response, and she laughed out loud.
The sound surprised her, just as it had at the falls with Cooper.
But she liked it.
She cuddled the piglet into her neck, then turned to head back into her cabin, suddenly feeling a lot less alone in the world.
But then the piglet made a funny sound, and Shelby held it away from her when a disgusting stench hit her nose.
Yeah. She certainly wasn’t in Hollywood anymore.
Not even close.
Chapter 11
Two days later, Shelby opened her door to see Cooper on the porch, Groucho Marx glasses and nose firmly in place. The man had been out on the trail with guests for an overnight, dammit, just when she could have actually used him. Little Oinkers might be small, but damn, she was needy. Shelby hadn’t had more than two hours of continuous sleep since Hayley had showed up on her doorstep.
“Are you de lady of de house?” he asked.
She laughed, trying not to yawn. “Definitely not. Go away.”
“But I brought my best disguise!”
“Why do you need a disguise?”
He took off the glasses, and his eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. “I don’t. But you do. We’re going into town today.”
“We’re what?”
“Going. Into. Town.” He nodded. “You should really start wearing ear protection onstage. You’re losing your hearing way too early, playing all that head-banging rock.”
“Nice try. I don’t tour with a head-banging rock band.”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out eventually. Or you’ll finally break down and tell me. But today, town.”
“What if I have plans?” Like, say, a piglet to feed every two hours?
“Do you have plans?” He raised his eyebrows like he knew damn well she didn’t.
“That’s not the point.”
Cooper’s brow furrowed, and he looked down toward the stables for a moment. “This probably isn’t the best time to say that horses are easier than women, right?”
She laughed again. She couldn’t help it. “No. But I’m not sure there’s a good time to ever say that.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath, then turned back to her. “Let me try again. Shelby, I was thinking about going into town for the day, and I wondered if you might like to join me. I thought maybe I could show you around a little, and I also thought maybe you’d like the chance to get out of your cabin for a little while. You’ve been holed up in there for two days.”
“That’s better. Thank you for asking me, instead of telling me.”
“I apologize. Bad call on my part. So? What do you think?” He held out the glasses. “I’ll let you wear my disguise.”
She rolled her eyes. “As subtle as that would be…”
“I know. You probably have a better one.” He smiled. “Come to town with me. Please? There’s a little artsy-craftsy festival thing at the park, and all the shops are open late. It’s the perfect day to experience Carefree at its best.”
“Hey, Cooper?”
“Ye-es?”
“Did Kyla put you up to this?”
He sighed. “Why would you assume that?”
“Because I’ve never met a guy who’d care about—what did you call it?—an artsy-craftsy festival in the park. But I have a feeling Kyla would think it was the perfect day to bring an unsuspecting stranger into town.”
“Well, as embarrassing as I guess it’ll be to admit it, it’s actually my idea. Saw it in the paper this morning, and I thought maybe you’d like it. Kyla doesn’t even know I’m asking.”
Shelby smiled. She actually would have been fine with it being Kyla’s idea, but the fact that he’d perused the newspaper looking for something he thought might be her cup of tea was kind of endearing. She’d actually like to see the downtown area, and it’d be something to do to fill the hours that had been stretching endlessly for the last couple of days.
But then she thought of the hordes of people that likely descended on a festival like this, and she panicked. What if she was recognized? What if she blew her cover and ended up drawing photographers with their insanely huge lenses to this idyllic little ranch?
“I don’t know, Cooper.”
He studied her for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Question for you—how recognizable are you? I mean, I know I’m a pop culture idiot and haven’t figured it out yet—but if you’re recognized, are you likely to draw a crowd? Be in danger? Anything like that?”
Shelby caught her reflection in the window, still startled by how little she resembled the creature she’d been onstage for the past twelve years. Nicola had practically ordered her to stay at Whisper Creek so she wouldn’t inadvertently be outed, but really? Would anyone actually know who she was right now, even if she didn’t disguise herself?
“I don’t know.” She shrugged slowly. “I just really don’t know. But there’s another issue.”
“Okay?”
“I, um, apparently have a piglet.”
“Huh?” Cooper’s face registered the same confusion and shock she imagined Nicola’s would have, if she ever found out about the pig.
“Hayley brought me a piglet the other day. To take care of. And she’s still alive, and I’d like to keep her that way.”
“A piglet.” His voice was deadpan. “Hayley brought you—a piglet.”
“Now whose ears are damaged?” She laughed. “Yes, a piglet.”
“Why?”
“Excellent question. I think I’ve come to the conclusion it’s a pity project.”
“I don’t follow.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I think the women of Whisper Creek decided I was bored and lonely, so they conspired to bring me a piglet.”
“Points for originality, I guess.” Cooper shook his head like he couldn’t quite compute, then took a deep breath. “Can I see this…piglet?”
Shelby opened the door, putting a finger to her lips. “She’s sleeping.”
“Where?” He looked around the floor, and Shelby stood behind him, not quite wanting to admit just where the darn pig was.
“Um, in the bedroom?”
He raised his eyebrows at her, then stepped through the doorway to her bedroom. Again he scanned the floor while Shelby cringed and crossed her arms.
“I don’t see her,” he whispered, stepping gingerly around the bed like he was afraid he might step on the piglet.
“She’s—right there.” Shelby pointed to the head of her bed, where between the pillows, you could make out a little snout, if you looked hard enough.
Which Cooper did. For a really, really long moment.
As he turned around, Shelby could see him practically biting his cheeks, trying to bury the smile that was trying to sneak out.
“I tried everything, Cooper. A box, a basket, blankets, a hot-water bottle. Everything. She wouldn’t sleep.”
“So you brought her to bed with you?”
“Seriously! Nothing worked! I ran out of options, and I’ll be damned if I’ll admit to Hayley that I can’t take care of one little piglet. Look at what everyone else around here does all day.”
Cooper laughed. “Bed?”
“Stop it!” She laughed, too. “That pig slept for hours. She’s still sleeping. She likes bed.”
“Can I please tell the tabloids this part? Just this?”
She slugged him softly, rolling her eyes. “No.”
He nodded, like he was tossing headlines through his head. “But—”
“No.”
“I can’t believe they brought you a pig.” He shook his head. “Any chance you’d be willing to let someone else babysit her for the day, if we go into town?”
Shelby glanced at the piglet, who snuffled and buried her snout deeper in the blanket. If someone had predicted a month ago
that she’d be staying at a dude ranch, a farm animal in her bed, she would have thought they were smoking something they shouldn’t.
But she’d be darned if the little thing wasn’t growing on her.
“I don’t know. Do you think anybody else is available?”
Cooper laughed. “Um, yeah. Pretty sure there are plenty of people.”
“So Hayley bringing her to me? Not so desperate a situation?”
“Hayley has twins at home who would have died for a piglet to take care of.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.” Cooper rolled his eyes, then scooped up the pig. “I’ll take her to Lexi’s place. She’ll be happy to feed Miss Piggy for the day, I’m sure. That’ll give you a few minutes to get ready for town, if you’re up for it.”
“You sure?”
“Dead sure.”
She nodded. She really was going kind of nuts, locked in this cabin. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She nodded like she was way surer than she actually was. “But first, tell me this—what’s your favorite hair color on a girl?”
“Uh, I don’t—what?”
She laughed. “Finish this sentence: I’ve always wanted to be seen with a hot…blank.”
“Woman.”
“Not helpful.”
“Why are we having this conversation?” He shook his head. “I’m confused.”
“Because I have three wigs. I hate them all, so I’m letting you choose so I don’t have to.”
He looked at her like she was half nuts. “Neverlandia is a very, very strange place, isn’t it?”
“You don’t know the half of it, buddy.”
“Fine. Red. You have a redhead wig?”
Shelby studied him for a moment. “Figures.”
“What?” He put up his hands. “You asked! I answered. I don’t have anything against any other color, but you made me choose.”
She shook her head. “Fine. Go see if Lexi can watch the pig. I’ll be ready in a few.”
Five minutes later, she emerged from her cabin, light brown wig, hat, and big sunglasses in place.
Cooper laughed. “Nice. I chose red.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “Shall we?”
He put out his arm so she could hook her hand through his elbow, and it struck her as an old-fashioned, gallant gesture. But she liked it. Maybe it was a cowboy thing. Or a cop thing, though he seemed intent on erasing that piece of his history.
But whatever it was, she’d take it.
“Before we get to my truck, I don’t want to hear any comments about midlife crises or overcompensation, okay?”
“What?”
“I needed a new set of wheels before I came out here. My buddy was selling a set of wheels. We made a deal that worked out well for me, because I could fit me and my chair in it. But it’s big.”
They came around the corner of the main lodge, and Shelby’s eyes widened when she saw the cherry-red truck sitting in the lot. It was big. And conspicuous as all get-out.
“Cooper?”
“I said no comments.”
He pressed a button on his key chain, and she heard a soft honk, but not from the red truck. Instead, just behind it, there was a dark blue one—almost as huge, with ridiculously monstrous wheels—but at least not bright red.
She smiled in relief as he reached up to open the door for her, then put a steadying hand on her lower back as she pulled herself into the cab. Once he’d walked around and was settled in the driver’s seat, she pointed at the red truck.
“Thank God. I thought yours was the red one.”
“It is.” He shifted into reverse, and she gulped. Oops. “I conned Decker out of this one for the day, since I figured incognito might be hard to manage in that candy-apple eyesore.”
She looked at his truck as they backed by it. “It’s—wow. Really red.”
“Thank you, Princess Obvious.” He rolled his eyes, then hit the gas pedal to head up the long, sloping driveway.
“I like it. It says, ‘I’m a man who’s not afraid to be—you know—seen.’ ”
“You can stop backpedaling. You’re not very good at it.” Cooper shook his head as he pulled onto the two-lane highway that led to downtown Carefree, ten miles away, but a smile snuck out anyway.
On the way into town, he went into tour-guide mode, pointing out landmarks—the best spot to get ribs, an ancient burial mound the town apparently kept very sacred, and a farm where they held pony races every Saturday. As he pointed and talked, Shelby tried to take in as much as she could, but there was no way she was going to remember everything.
“Seriously, Cooper. How do you know so much about this place already? How have you had time to learn all this stuff?”
He shrugged. “Curious. Till this spring, I’d never been west of the Mississippi. This is all new country to me. And I have to admit, I didn’t necessarily expect to like it all that much. Planned for it to be a stopover while the dust settled back East, but it turns out, it’s growing on me.”
“What do you like best about it out here?”
“The people.”
He said it without hesitation, a stiff nod accompanying his words, and in those two words, Shelby detected a strong note of sadness. Whoever his ex was had really done a number on him back in Boston.
That or the job itself. There was definitely a story there.
“How about you?” She could almost see his invisible head-shake as he tried to turn the conversation to her instead. “What’s your favorite thing so far?”
You, she thought, then felt her eyes widen.
Shit.
“Um, I’m not sure.” She looked out the window, sure her cheeks were flaming. “Everyone at Whisper Creek’s unbearably nice, so there’s that.”
“None of it’s fake, if you’re wondering.”
She nodded slowly. “I get that.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“No, it’s not that. I just—I don’t know—it’s hard for me to sort out the genuine versus the fake. I’ve had a lot of the fake. So the genuine…well, sometimes it just feels…fake.” She waved a hand to dismiss her own words. “Never mind. That sounds awful. They’re all great.”
He was silent for a long moment, both hands firmly on the wheel. Then he looked over. “How long have you been in the business? Whatever business it is?”
“Since I was sixteen.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Hey.” She elbowed him. “I’m not that old.”
“Not what I meant.” He smiled. “Just a long time to be surrounded by posers and fakes. I can see why you’d have trouble sorting everybody out.”
“Yeah.” She frowned as she stared at the passing landscape. Daddy had never seemed to have the same trouble. Of course, Daddy had had a way of bringing out the real in people. And he’d had a way of slicing out the disingenuous ones without them ever knowing that’s what he’d done.
She wished she’d inherited more of his sense that way.
“Well, Carefree’s the kind of place that doesn’t tolerate posers or fakes, or anything in-between. If that helps.”
“So me showing up in a hat, glasses, and a wig?”
He laughed. “You have a good reason, I guess. And maybe after you walk around this afternoon and realize nobody gives a hoot about movie-star you—that they just might want to get to know regular-you you—you won’t need so much of a disguise next time.”
“Not a movie star.” She rolled her eyes.
“Okay.” He shrugged. “But I was calling you Miss Hollywood before you came, so the image is kind of stuck in my brain.”
“I want to tell you, if that helps any.” She sighed. “But once you know, then I’ll be subject to all of your preconceived notions about the business, my role in it, my past, and my projected future. And right now, every single one of those things is completely overwhelming.”
“Thus the month off?”
�
��Yeah.” She scraped one thumbnail against the other, a nervous gesture she’d tried to curb since her first tour manicurist had scolded her twelve years ago.
If only it was just her waning career that had her needing time and space.
“Ever think somebody objective could maybe help?”
“I don’t know. Nobody objective has ever really been let into my airspace.”
He looked over again. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For you. For whatever happened that led you to…here.” He flicked on his blinker to exit the highway, and one minute later, Shelby put her hand to her mouth as they rolled down Main Street.
“You know what?” She took in the clean streets, the petunias spilling out of whiskey barrels, the white storefronts and huge plate-glass windows that could have come right off from a 1950s small-town-America movie set. “I’m thinking—at least for today—here looks pretty okay.”
—
Half an hour later, Cooper sat back in his chair outside the Java Beans café, sipping a cup of coffee that would have had him praying, if he was the sort. With beans imported straight from South America, the owner, Jasper, prided himself on his unique blends, and if Cooper ever moved back to Boston, he was going to talk seriously about a franchise deal.
“So? Good coffee?”
Shelby nodded, closing her eyes dreamily. “You were right. Best I’ve ever tasted.”
“And you, famous and all, with full access to the best of the best. Jasper would be impressed.”
“No offense, but he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would.”
“No. You’re right.” He shrugged. “You’re just another tourist.”
She laughed. “I would love to be just another tourist.”
“Good.” He stood up, offering his hand. “Then today, you’re just another tourist from Nashville.”
“Okay.” She smiled, then touched her fingers to his, just enough for him to help her out of her chair. “Where should we go next?”
“Jenny’s bakery?”
“Donuts.” Her eyes widened, making him laugh. “Yes. Jenny’s. Which way is it?”
He pointed at the pink awning just down the street from where they were standing, then touched her elbow to turn her.
As she pivoted, she looked up at him with a smile that hooked him right through his chest. Damn, she was beautiful. And it wasn’t Hollywood beautiful. Under the stupid wig and glasses and crazy-white teeth, she had that little dimple, and the sweet smile, and the laugh that seemed to sneak up on her unannounced.
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