Return to Homecoming Ranch (Pine River)

by Julia London

  “No, no, you don’t understand. They’re huge! I need Ryan’s truck to get them, and he’s at work.” She jabbed at the number pad on her phone, calling the printer. She explained the situation and asked if anyone could deliver the posters. Her shoulders sagged. “They don’t have anyone who can come. I have to go get them.”

  “Well go get them, Gwen,” Dani said. “Libby and I can finish up here.”

  “I can’t go and get them. My kids are coming here. The babysitter is dropping them off and I have to get them to the school, because Alice has her dance recital today.”

  Libby managed to suppress a small gasp of delight.

  “Libby, please go and get the posters,” Gwen pleaded.

  “Me?” Libby asked. “My car is much smaller than yours.”

  Gwen looked frantic. “I don’t know what to do.” She chewed her bottom lip, thinking.

  “Now, Gwen, run and go get those posters,” Dani said. “We’ll be here. We can look after a couple of kids for a few minutes.”

  Gwen’s head came up at that, and she leveled a brown-eyed gaze on Libby.

  “Hey,” Libby started, but Dani quickly interceded.

  “Libby has worked really hard on this committee, Gwen, and she hasn’t said one word to you about the situation between the two of you. It will be fine.”

  Gwen was still looking at Libby, clearly debating it.

  Libby made a sound of exasperation. “Come on, Gwen—what do you think I’m going to do?”

  Gwen didn’t answer that exactly; she just shook her head. “Right. Okay. I’ll be back in half an hour.” She grabbed up her purse and hurried out the door.

  “Thanks, Dani,” Libby said.

  “Think nothing of it. Whole thing is pretty darn silly if you ask me. I know you wouldn’t do anything.”

  Libby was not going to be bothered that Dani didn’t sound very certain of that.

  They continued working to set up the last item—a sewing machine—which had come with a display of things the owner had made on a similar machine: baby clothes, doll clothes, a work shirt. A quarter of an hour after Gwen had left, Libby heard Max and Alice coming down the hall to the banquet room, both of them running, Max shouting at Alice to slow down.

  They burst into the room at once, Alice stopping to look wildly about, and Max running straight to Libby. He threw his arms around her, turned his beaming face up to her and said, “I got a goal!”

  “No way!” Libby cried. “High five!”

  “Where’s my mom?” Alice asked breathlessly. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Alice!” Libby said, holding out a hand to the girl.

  Alice ran to her, threw her arms around her waist. “Libby! We have to go! I don’t have my costume! Everyone else has their costume!”

  “I’m going to be goalie, Libby!” Max cried, vying for Libby’s attention.

  “You are? That’s such an important position,” Libby said.

  “Libby!” Alice shrieked. “Mommy forgot my costume! I have to get it because I’m the butterfly!”

  “Okay, calm down, sweetie, we’ll figure this out. Where is it? At school?” Libby asked, running her hand over Alice’s head.

  “No! It’s at home! Mom forgot!”

  “Oh my goodness,” Dani said. “I’m pretty sure the recital begins in about forty-five minutes.”

  “You’ll have to take them,” Libby said to Dani. “I shouldn’t.”

  “No, you take us Libby!” Alice cried, tugging at her hand. “You know where to go. But we have to go now.”

  “Alice, honey, I can’t,” Libby said, wincing at the distress on the girl’s face. “But Dani will.”

  “Okay, where do they live?” Dani asked.

  “Vista Ridge subdivision, on Canton Way. It’s in the back, up that big hill. You know that hill, right?”

  “No,” Dani said, frowning. “I don’t even know that subdivision. I never go out that way.”

  “It’s easy,” Libby said as Alice tugged on her hand. “Just enter through the north gate and take your first right. At the stop sign, you’re going to want to go left—”

  “I need to write this down,” Dani said, and patted the bun in the back of her head, apparently looking for a pencil. “What did I do with that pencil?”

  “Libby, you have to take me. She doesn’t know how to take me,” Alice pleaded.

  “Do you have GPS?” Libby asked Dani.

  “Lord no! My truck doesn’t have any fancy bells and whistles, but it’s paid for.”

  Alice, sensing impending doom, began to cry. “The teacher won’t let me do my dance if I don’t have my costume!”

  “Let’s call Mommy,” Dani suggested. She took her phone off the counter and punched in Gwen’s number. A moment later, they all heard Gwen’s phone ringing at the podium, where she had inadvertently left it.

  “I guess I can call Ryan,” Dani said. “Do you have his number?”

  Libby knew his number, but in that moment, she’d not admit it, not be accused, however thinly, of stalking him.

  “Lib-beee,” Alice said tearfully.

  It was a dangerous thing to do, but Alice’s distress was unbearable. “Don’t call Ryan,” she said to Dani. “I can take them. It will take us thirty minutes round trip, tops.”

  Dani looked at the kids, then at Libby. “I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “Gwen wouldn’t like that.”

  “I know, Dani, but she doesn’t have her phone, and clearly this is an emergency.”

  “Well . . .” Dani said, clearly unsettled with Libby’s suggestion.

  “I’ll be quick,” Libby said. “I know exactly where they live. I know where Ryan keeps the extra key. Alice can get it; I won’t go in the house—”

  “Okay, go,” Dani said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll tell Gwen what has happened. But come right back, Libby. Promise me you’ll come right back.”

  “Dani! Of course I will,” Libby said, and turned a bright smile to the children, thrilled to have a few stolen moments with them. “Come on, guys! We have an important mission and we have to hurry!”

  Because she had no booster seats for them, Libby put Max in the middle of the back seat. Alice was big enough to ride beside her brother.

  Max was concerned. “I’m supposed to have a booster seat,” he insisted.

  “I know, but just this once, it’s okay,” Libby assured him. “We have to hurry before Mommy gets back.”

  With the kids buckled in, Libby drove with one eye on the road, and one eye on the rearview mirror so she could see their faces—Alice’s worried stare out the window, Max’s intent study of the back of the console between the front seats and his ability to reach it with his foot. She chatted happily with them, asking about school, about their friends. It felt like the old days, when they were a big happy family, when Libby would pick them up from school and hear about their day, then bring them home and prepare dinner for the four of them while Max played and Alice danced around the kitchen, repeating everything her friends had said that day.

  Today, Max was desperate for Libby to know about his new game. Alice talked over him about her beautiful butterfly costume and the fairy costume that her best friend Sasha would wear. She smiled in her rearview mirror. “Hey, you two. You know how much I love you, right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” they said in unison. The question was familiar to them, their answers automatic.

  It felt as if the last few months were falling away, as if nothing had happened, as if Libby had never been separated from them. It felt as if things really could go back to the way they were, as if Libby really could have her family back, right here, today.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  When Sam pulled onto Main Street, he knew something was wrong. He was used to seeing a Pine River cop parked outside the Grizzly Café, but this late afternoon, there were three of them.

  He parked and walked to the Grizzly Lodge, bile rising in his throat. When he saw Gwen standing at the entrance of the lodge,
talking with two police officers, he knew, he just knew, and his heart sank.

  “Sam!” Gwen shrieked when she saw him. “You have to help me! Libby has taken the children!”

  “What?” He could imagine many things, but kidnapping was not one of them. Libby’s misdeeds were generally more out in the open than that.

  “I had to go get the posters, and I told Libby and Dani that my kids were coming. Alice has a dance recital at five-thirty, and I said I’d be right back. But when I came back, they were all gone! Where are they? Where could they have gone? She took them!”

  “Gwen, calm down,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Where’s Dani?”

  “Her chef said she had to run to Walmart because the produce truck never arrived. And she won’t answer her phone! But Mrs. Ramsey saw Libby put my kids in her car and drive off! She saw her, and she heard Libby tell them to hurry before I came back!”

  Sam glanced at the woman who was standing with John Powers, a police officer he knew fairly well. “You saw them?” he asked Mrs. Ramsey.

  “Yep,” she said, scratching her arm nervously. “I watched her put those kids in the backseat. She didn’t even have a booster for the boy. She told them they had to hurry before their mommy came back. Then she just drove off, pretty as you please.”

  “Did anyone call her?” Sam asked, taking his phone from his pocket.

  “No,” Gwen said. “I don’t have her number! Why would I have her number?”

  “Gwen . . . calm down,” he said. A thousand thoughts rushed through Sam’s mind, not the least of which was that he should never have let his guard down. He should have kept to himself, should have left his heart shuttered. Right now, he felt gutted. He’d let Libby in, had let her into the crack in his heart, had wrapped himself and his hopes around her. This was a bone-crushing disappointment.

  He punched her number into his phone and waited for it to connect. What stung was that he’d told her that this was the one thing he couldn’t bear, the one thing that he had to avoid. If he couldn’t trust her, if he couldn’t believe in her judgment, that she would not take everyone on an emotional rollercoaster, he couldn’t maintain the relationship. The lack of basic trust was what weakened him, sapped him of his strength, and for the sake of his own sanity, he could not have it in his life.

  “She took my kids!” Gwen cried. “She may be halfway to Mexico by now!”

  “Mrs. Spangler, you need to calm down. You’re jumping to conclusions. We don’t know anything yet. We need to speak to Ms. Boxer, but in the meantime, we’ve got units looking for Miss Tyler right now,” John Powers said calmly.

  Libby’s cell phone began to ring.

  “I am not going to calm down! She stole my kids!” Tears began to slide from Gwen’s eyes. She pressed a hand to her heart and bent over with despair.

  “Hey! That’s her!” Mrs. Ramsey said suddenly. All heads swiveled around as Libby’s little red car slid into a vacant spot at the end of the block.

  Sam clicked off his phone.

  A moment later, Max appeared, running down the sidewalk, leaping to hit the top of each parking meter as he passed it. Behind him was his sister, holding a purple frilly dress over her shoulder, running toward Gwen.

  “Mommy! You forgot my costume!” she shouted.

  “Ohmigod,” Gwen cried and rushed toward her children, her arms outstretched, falling down on her knees to gather them to her.

  With her purse over her shoulder, Libby hesitated at the sight of Gwen on her knees. She had her phone in her hand and lifted her gaze to Sam.

  Sam couldn’t look at her. If she thought he would save her again, cover for her, pull her back from the edge, she was mistaken.

  “I’ll go have a chat with her,” John said, and walked forward to intercept Libby.

  “No,” Sam heard Libby say. “No, that’s not what happened. Alice forgot her costume and her recital is in twenty minutes,” she said looking at her phone. “You don’t understand how much dance means to her. If we hadn’t gone for her costume, she wouldn’t have had it in time. Dani will tell you,” she said, looking around. “Dani was here, she agreed, she said I should take them to get Alice’s costume. We tried to call Gwen, but she forgot her phone.”

  “You should have left a note. Maybe called her husband,” Officer Powers suggested.

  “But there was no time!” Libby said sharply. “And Dani was going to be here! I don’t get this,” she said gesturing to Gwen. “I was helping her, not hurting her. There’s Dani!” she cried, pointing up the street. “Dani, tell them! Tell them we agreed!”

  Sam looked over his shoulder as Dani came hurrying down the street carrying several plastic Walmart bags. “Oh no,” Dani said, stopping on the sidewalk, her broad shoulders slumping. “Oh dear, this is all my fault. Our order of salad greens didn’t arrive, so I had to run down to Walmart, and there’s a wreck on the highway. You know how it is around here, there’s no way to get back across town by the old highway—”

  “Dani,” Libby impatiently interrupted, “just tell them that you and I agreed it was best that I take the kids when we couldn’t get hold of Gwen.”

  “Alice forgot her costume,” Dani said, nodding. “And Libby wanted to take the kids. She said it would be quicker.”

  Libby gasped. She looked at Sam. “I did say that, but after we tried to call Gwen and couldn’t get an answer.”

  “Well, maybe so,” Dani said uncertainly, her brow furrowing with thought. “I just know that there wasn’t any time, and Libby didn’t want me to call Ryan, so yes, she said she would take them and I said I’d be here to tell Gwen. And I meant to.” She turned to Gwen, who was standing again, a firm grip of each child’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Gwen,” Dani said. “But the produce truck didn’t come, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “See?” Libby demanded of Sam. “I didn’t take her kids!”

  Sam’s heart had already begun sliding out of his chest because the damage was done. No matter how good her intentions, she should never have taken those children, and the most distressing thing was that Sam didn’t know if Libby even understood that.

  Dani was consoling Gwen, who was, understandably, unhappy that Dani had agreed Libby should take her kids, and John Powers was trying to diffuse Gwen’s unhappiness by pointing out it was all a misunderstanding.

  “Oh, I know,” Gwen said angrily. “It’s always a misunderstanding with Libby Tyler! Everyone in town knows that.”

  “Mom, we have to go,” Alice said, pulling on her mother’s hand. “We’re going to be late!”

  “We’re already late,” Gwen said angrily, and glared at Libby. “Thanks a lot, Libby. Now, we’re late for Alice’s dance recital. You knew I wouldn’t want you to take them. You could have come to the printer’s and intercepted me, for heaven’s sake. There are a hundred other things you might have done than put my children in your car and take them from here.”

  Libby looked shaken. She pushed her hair from her face. “I meant only to help Alice,” she said again. “And you, Gwen. She needed her costume in a very short time.”

  “Right,” Gwen scoffed, and took her kids by the hands. “Come on, kids, we’re late.”

  Sam didn’t hear what else John said to Gwen as she began ushering her children to her car, because a white van with the faded words fresh baked rolled up to the curb, its engine making a clunking noise. Leo had arrived for the auction.

  “Step aside, mere mortals, the star is here,” he called out as his dad wheeled him out of the back of the van. He was wearing a suit that hung awkwardly on his bent body, dark sunglasses, and a silk scarf around his neck. His useless feet were encased in black leather shoes polished to a high sheen. He was smiling crookedly, one arm bent at an odd angle against his chest. He looked like a rock star.

  “Let’s do this,” he said happily.

  “Sam, l—”

  “Now is not the time,” Sam said curtly, and went to help Bob get Leo inside the wheelchair-resista
nt Grizzly Lodge, with Marisol walking behind, huffing and puffing with one hand on her belly, one hand carrying a black bag of the medicines and things Leo would need for an evening away from home.

  When they finally had Leo situated—just inside the door of the banquet hall so that he could greet people as they entered and encourage them to bid as only Leo could do—Sam walked outside for some air. He wished he had some aspirin. His head was pounding, his throat dry.

  He hesitated when he saw Libby pacing the sidewalk. She stopped when Sam walked out, her legs braced apart, her hands on her waist. “You didn’t believe me,” she said flatly. “I could see it on your face—you thought I had done something.”

  He didn’t answer her; he feared the torrent that would come out of his mouth if he did.

  She gaped at him. “You don’t trust me.” Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Wow. You’re just like everyone else in this town—you don’t trust me.”

  He looked at her mouth, at her body that had quickly become almost as familiar to him as his own. He looked into the pale blue eyes that had captivated him so long ago. He didn’t know what he thought or felt. He only knew that the inability to trust her was his kryptonite. He’d tried to make her understand that he’d worked hard to distance himself from the things that made him drink. He didn’t understand exactly how it all worked in his head, he only knew that misplaced trust had always been an issue with him. If he couldn’t trust he was in the right place with the right person, if he couldn’t trust his own instincts, he was prone to numbing his doubts with alcohol. It didn’t matter that he could reason through it. It didn’t matter that it didn’t make sense to him. The only thing that mattered was that reason did not subdue the desire to numb the mistrust.

  It was a high wire he walked, and Sam would never jeopardize his sobriety. Not even for her.

  “Should I believe it is only coincidence that once again, you have inserted yourself in the middle of the Spanglers’ lives without invitation?”

  She looked as surprised as if he’d struck her. She took another step back. “I can’t believe this. I trusted you, Sam. I opened up to you, told you everything. I told you the truth. But you’re going to believe Gwen Spangler instead of me.”