by Lori Wilde
Ahh, now they were getting down to it. Cash offered him up a cheery, gee-ain’t-this-swell grin. “The music business is hard on relationships in general.”
Gabi tightened her grip around her husband’s waist and sent Cash a smile as false as the one decorating his face. Hmm, so she hated him too.
Arms outstretched, Casey twirled around on a patch of ground, humming one of The Truthful Desperadoes’ breakup songs. Come to think of it, The Truthful Desperadoes had a lot of breakup songs.
“I’ll bet,” Joe said. “Most likely the reason you never married.”
“Cash’s focus is on his music,” Paige said, staying even-keel. “He’s got a special gift. He’s not like ordinary people who get married and have kids and everything they say and do revolves around that. Cash has won numerous music awards, and he’s had two albums go gold. Which, in case you didn’t know, is a big deal. He’s sharp, he’s a dynamo, and he’s damn good at what he does. Why does it matter if he’s lousy at long-term relationships?”
There was something dismal and terrible in her tone, cocked up and defensive and out of context to the discussion.
Unobtrusively, Cash moved his foot to touch hers. Even through her boots, he could feel the line of tension running through her body, substantial and resolute.
She inhaled sharply, held her breath, and when she exhaled, she dropped her arms that she’d had folded tight across her chest.
“It doesn’t matter.” Joe let the axe slide easily off his shoulder. “His life, his business.”
“Damn straight,” Cash said, keeping his voice mild.
“He’s a big success at his career.” Joe rested the blade on the ground, set his palm on the handle, and balanced the axe beside them. “We admire what he’s accomplished. Most people don’t have the persistence and discipline it takes. Sacrificing love and family for fame and fortune.” Joe smiled nice and gentle at Paige. “Don’t you agree?”
“Cash knows what he’s doing.” Paige jutted her chin in the air. “We want a Leyland cypress.”
“Joe didn’t even know what he’d been missing, until his grandfather turned the Christmas tree farm over to him.” Gabi smiled at Cash frenemies-style. “He didn’t realize his true calling until he gave up on pipe dreams.”
“Music isn’t a pipe dream for Cash.” Paige’s eyes flashed a warning. “It’s everything. And that’s how it has to be in order to be a star.”
Gabi clicked her tongue, and her eyes went melancholy, and even though she didn’t say a word, Cash heard, So sad. The woman felt sorry for him?
“That’s the thing about stars.” Joe shifted his jaw into a hard line stance. “Eventually, they fall.”
Okey-dokey. Cash knew where he stood with Paige’s friends. In the garbage dump.
“Tree,” Paige said. “Leyland cypress.”
“This way.” Gabi motioned them to follow her, treading lightly through the trees, her arm resting on her extended belly, Casey skipping along beside them. Joe picked up the axe, put it in a wheelbarrow, and followed them.
Cash kept an eye on Joe.
“Sorry about this,” Paige mumbled, walking close to him. “My friends can be a little overprotective.”
“You think?”
She poked him playfully in the ribs. “They mean well. They just don’t want to see me get hurt. I’m sure your friends would look at me with equal suspicion.”
“No,” he said. “Probably not. No one is particularly protective of me.”
“Aww, poor baby.” She lagged, letting her friends get ahead of them.
He slowed, keeping up with her pace, pooched out his lips in a pretend pout. “I’m so maligned.”
“I’m sure stardom makes up for some of that.”
“What does everyone around here have against achieving your dreams?” he grumbled.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just that many people who love their lives in this town have discovered all that glitters isn’t gold.”
“Meaning?” He studied her in the glow of the Christmas lights strung from the numerous poles. Her glossy hair glistened, her straight white teeth shone. She sparkled bright as gold.
“There is no there, there.”
“Meaning?”
“C’mon,” she said, looking truly surprised. “When you were at the pinnacle of your career you didn’t feel like there was still something missing?”
“Who says I’ve been at the pinnacle of my career?” he asked, his chest tightening and his heart fluttering in a wild way. “I’m nowhere near the top.”
“Oh,” she said, in an “aha” voice, as if a lightbulb had gone on. As if what he’d said had explained everything.
“How’s this one, Paige?” Joe called out. He’d stopped beside a tree, smaller than the rest of them, the perfect size for a houseboat.
“It’s Cash’s tree, ask him.”
“Cash?” Joe shot him another one of those don’t-mess-with-Paige stares.
“It’s brilliant,” Cash said, choosing his words carefully.
“Live trees need a lot of attention.” Joe shifted his gaze to Paige. “Water frequently. Put it up in a sheltered area, away from a heat source.”
“I’ll cherish it.”
“See that you do.” Joe’s tone was steely as his axe. “I know the tree is temporary, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be handled with care.”
“Got it.”
Joe studied him a long moment and Cash held the other man’s gaze. Finally, Joe bent and, in three sharp whacks, felled the tree.
Cash helped him load it in the wheelbarrow. The look Joe sent him held slightly less animosity than it had before. Progress. Score.
They took the tree back and loaded it into the Land Rover. Paige said good-bye to Gabi and Casey and got in on the passenger’s side. Leaving him and Joe standing at the rear of the SUV.
“Enjoy the tree,” Joe said.
“I will.”
“And when you’re ready to get rid of your tree, call me. I recycle.”
“Will do.”
Joe clamped a hand on Cash’s shoulder. “She’s special.”
“The tree?”
“No, dammit, Paige. For some unknown reason, she’s crazy about you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you and I’ve known her since she was a kid.”
That was a lot to absorb. Cash chewed on it.
“You hurt her,” Joe said, “and I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass.”
Paige rolled down the window, stuck her head out, and waved her cell phone in the air. “Cash,” she called. “We gotta go. Grammie’s gone missing from the nursing home.”
Chapter 16
Accelerando: A symbol used in musical notation indicating a gradually quickened tempo.
Paige fidgeted all the way into town, fretting about Grammie.
According to Addie, Grammie had gone missing from the TV room where the residents had gathered to watch A Christmas Story. Addie had been busy calming one of the other residents who’d gotten charged up about the Red Ryder BB gun and she hadn’t noticed Grammie slip out the side door.
They had caught Grammie on the video camera, scuttling away toward the town square, and they’d already sent staff out to look for her, but Paige couldn’t help putting herself inside Grammie’s head. Dazed and confused.
What would it be like to wander the town you’d once been so familiar with but no longer recognized? How scary would it be to bump against bustling strangers not paying any attention to a lost, elderly woman? How lonely she must feel. How frightened.
“Hurry,” she urged Cash. “Hurry, please.”
Instead of speeding up, he reached across the seat to squeeze her hand. “It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”
“Take a deep breath,” he said. “You’re barely breathing.”
It irritated
her that he’d pointed that out, but he was right. She inhaled deeply, squeezed his hand, exhaled, felt some of her anxiety ebb.
“I’m here with you,” he said. “All the way. I’ll help you. I’ll help her. We will get through this.”
We.
As if they were together. As if they were a couple.
It felt nice. Better than nice. It felt grand. But it wasn’t a feeling she could get used to, so she shook her head, shook it off.
Or tried to anyway.
Cash was making it pretty difficult, holding her hand and all. They reached the square, but there was no place to park.
“Stop at the corner. I’ll get out and start searching.” She unbuckled her seat belt.
“No,” he said firmly. “Stay put. Do not get out of this car. I’m going with you.”
Okay, he was being highhanded, but she kind of liked it, so she obeyed. She kept her eyes peeled for signs of Grammie in the crowd, but there were so many people and—
“Spot! Spot!” she hollered as a Jeep pulled away from the curb.
Cash pulled into the parking space smooth as silk. Her hero!
Once they were parked, she tumbled out of the car. Stood overwhelmed on the sidewalk for a second. Where to go? Where to start?
“This way,” Cash said, taking her elbow.
“What? Where?”
He pointed to the white SkyWatch manned mobile surveillance tower in the middle of the town square with “Police” written in black graphics. Paige had been so worked up she hadn’t even noticed it. He took her head and guided her over to the device that looked like a deer blind on a hydraulic lift.
“How do we get their attention?” Paige asked.
But Cash was already waving his arms in a crisscross, back and forth, SOS gesture. People looked at him weird, but gave him space.
The SkyWatch cab slowly lowered to the ground and Cash dragged her over.
The door opened and a police officer emerged. Cash told him about Grammie. The officer took a description of Grammie from Paige. They hadn’t seen her grandmother, but they would be on the lookout. In addition, they contacted the nursing home for their side of the story and put out a BOLO.
It was seven o’clock by the time she and Cash finished with the authorities and the crowd was at its zenith as people filed in and out of shops, restaurants, and entertainment venues.
Feeling marginally better, Paige thanked Cash for helping.
“We’re not done yet,” he said. “Not by a long shot.”
“What next?”
“We’re going to start with that shop on the corner . . .” He nodded at clothing boutique. “Talk to the employees, search the aisles, and then go to the next shop until we’ve covered every building on the square.”
“That’ll take all night.”
“So be it.”
“What if she’s not on the square? What if she’s wandered off to the lake? What if she fell in?” She clutched his arm, panic rising inside her. “Cash, what if she drowned?”
“Let’s not borrow trouble. The nursing home staff is looking for her. Law enforcement is on the lookout. Someone will find her.”
They went into the boutique. Grammie wasn’t there and the staff, who actually knew Grammie, hadn’t seen her. But the store was mobbed. A little old lady could easily get overlooked in such a throng.
“Thank you,” Cash said to the clerks, slipped his arm around Paige’s waist, took her to the next store and the next. Same results.
The fourth building on this side of the square was empty, several “For Sale” signs in the windows.
“What used to be here?” Cash asked.
“It was going to be a yoga studio,” Paige said, “but just after the studio owner finished renovations, a family tragedy forced her to move back home to Seattle. It’s sat empty ever since. The building includes the upstairs apartment. That might be why she’s having a hard time selling it. No one wants both.”
“Is there any way Grammie could have snuck in there?” Cash cupped his hands to his eyes, peered in through the darkened window.
“Doubtful.” Paige joined him, staring into the empty room at the new hardwood floors, track lighting, and sound system hookups.
“You know,” Cash said. “It would make a great dance studio. Maybe you should rent it and start teaching dance.”
Paige snorted. “As if.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. “C’mon, can’t you see it? You could put in bars for ballet and—”
“I can see that we’re wasting time on pipe dreams when Grammie’s missing.”
“Right,” he said. “Sometimes I can get caught up in big dreams.”
“Consider me an anchor, holding you to the earth.”
He grinned and kissed the top of her head, and if she hadn’t been so worried about Grammie, it would have been her feet not touching the ground.
“Here we go.” He pushed the door open to the quilt shop next door.
They emerged five minutes later. The wind gusted and snow started falling, swirling around them in white puffs that would have been beautiful if Paige wasn’t so worried about her grandmother. From what Addie had said, Grammie had been wearing a nightgown, slippers, and a bathrobe. Thin clothing. No decent shoes. No coat. She had to be freezing.
Cash kneaded her neck with his thumb and she felt her muscles loosen. How had he known she was knotted up? He led her into the next shop, Ye Olde Book Nook.
The cowbell over the door clanged gaily as if everything was normal and Grammie wasn’t on the loose. It was Paige’s favorite shop on the square, filled with the papery smell of books. The place was packed with families. It was story hour and a melodious voice reading The Magic Christmas Cookie came from the next room.
Drawn by the flow of pedestrians in that direction, they pushed past the tapestry curtain into the story area populated by plush couches and upholstered chairs. Kids in pajamas clutched stuffed animals and sat in circle around a woman reading from the book.
It was the author herself, Sarah Collier Walker, known publicly by her nom de plume, Sadie Cool. Paige had known Sarah for years.
Sarah glanced up, met Paige’s eyes and, without missing a beat in the story, inclined her head toward the Christmas tree to one side of the room where the comfiest chair in the store sat. The tree branches blocked her view of the chair, but Paige could see a pair of feet, shod in house slippers, sticking out beyond the tree. She recognized those slippers and her heart hopped.
Grammie!
Leaving Cash in the lurch, she dodged around kids, making her way around the Christmas tree.
And there was her grandmother, happily munching a cookie, Wayne Newton’s biography in her lap, smiling as if she was having the time of her life.
Relief shoved tears in Paige’s eyes and she dropped to her knees in front of her grandmother and wrapped her in a huge hug.
“Why, there you are,” Grammie said. “I’ve been missing you for ages. Where have you been, Emaline?”
“Grammie, it’s me, Paige.”
The little old lady in the pink bathrobe blinked at her granddaughter. “Who’s Paige?”
Cash could feel Paige take the sucker punch from where she knelt on the floor in front of Grammie’s chair. Saw her shoulders slump, watched her head drop to her grandmother’s lap in despair.
He wanted to go to her, to soothe her, make everything all right. But it wasn’t his place. This was her battle and to insert himself into her life right now would be an intrusion. He stepped back, helping her the only way he could think of—using his body to shield her and her grandmother from curious eyes.
“I’m your granddaughter.”
Grammie laughed. “Stop teasing me, Emaline. How can I have a granddaughter? I’m only twenty-two. I don’t have kids. I’m not even married.”
“It’s time to go,” Paige said. “It’s bedtime.”
“No!” Grammie shook her head, an intractable expression coming across
her wrinkled face. “I’m not leaving.”
“Please, Grammie.”
“I’m not your grammie. I’m not anybody’s grammie. Go away and leave me alone.”
Paige wiped at her eyes, brushing away tears.
His heart broke for her and her grandmother. And he felt guilty too. He hadn’t been there for his own grandparents at the end. His youthful ego and pride keeping him from admitting he’d been wrong. Of course, they’d been just as prideful. They hadn’t reached out. Hadn’t told him they were in failing health. And once, when he’d called, Grandpa had hung up the phone on him without ever saying hello.
Aww, hell, aww, damn.
He felt a stab in the center of his chest. Realized his heartache wasn’t just for Paige and her grandmother, but for everything he’d lost as well.
“Wayne!” Grammie exclaimed suddenly.
Cash glanced over his shoulder to see what person she was talking to.
“Wayne Newton, are you just going to stand there and not speak to me?” Grammie’s voice turned accusatory, but filled with affection.
Cash turned back. The elderly lady was looking directly at him. He pressed a hand to his chest.
“Yes, you. Get over and give me a kiss.” Grammie held her arms open wide.
Um. He hesitated, not knowing what to do.
Paige got to her feet. “She thinks you’re Wayne Newton.”
“I don’t look a thing like Wayne.”
“It’s not that. She dated him eons ago.”
“Really?” Cash was impressed.
“I’m waiting . . .” Grammie’s arms stayed in the air.
“Do I play along?” he asked Paige.
“When she’s in one of her full-blown episodes, what she calls one of her bubbles, it’s best to forget reality and just roll with it. Otherwise, if you try to orient her, she gets upset and contrary.”
Okay, then. Apparently kissing Grammie was on the agenda. This was for Paige, he reminded himself.
He moved in.
Grammie reached for him.
Cash braced himself.
Grammie cupped his face in her palms.
He saw in her eyes the girl she’d once been, spirited and full of life, the kind of woman who danced in a Vegas review and dated the likes of Wayne Newton. She’d had her own brand of stardom and it hadn’t saved her. She’d ended up in a small town, old and confused.