Then Came You

by Susan May Warren

  “Absolutely. Did you see the front page of yesterday’s Herald?” Kathy laid the paper on the counter while she poured beans into the grinder.

  Above the fold. She’d made it above the fold. Ree had told her about it, but she hadn’t seen it yet. The picture showed Boone, Beth, and Vivien at the playhouse. Vivien had to admit that Beth made a convincing Ashleigh. And, Boone. The shot had captured him looking extra hot as Dylan Turner.

  Oh, yeah. She’d noticed he’d leaned out. He’d been pretty fit to start with, but his morning runs and workouts were chiseling him to perfection. Bona fide, superstar perfection.

  She remembered the practice, only four days prior. She’d been surprised when Ree had shown up with an actual photographer. It wasn’t just a friend-writing-about-a-friend article. Nope. In fact, not only had the play sold out, they had a wait list. A wait list, for goodness’ sake.

  Her play was about to be an even bigger success than she’d ever hoped for. The thought wove its way in, warmed her heart.

  She was doing it. Proving herself as more than a failure. And she could see on the faces of the cast and their families how much the play meant to them too.

  “Will you save it for me?” Vivien handed the paper back to Kathy.

  “Absolutely. Do you want a donut to go with that?”

  “Oh, tempting, but I’d better not today. I gotta run—heading over to take a peek at the sets that were finished last night. We’re getting down to the wire and Gordy said he needs to do a walk through with Peter to ensure the fire suppression system is properly charged after the summer mishap. And Emma and Kyle Hueston are going to help me set up the sound system and run through the lights.”

  “Lots going on.” Kathy added syrup to the cup. “I heard you and that boyfriend of yours saved a girl last week.” She handed the drink to Vivien.

  Boyfriend. The word did funny things to Vivien’s stomach. Because Boone was staying and, for the first time, Vivien could see a real future for herself. One that could include Deep Haven and theater and allowed her to discard her social facade.

  Vivien lifted her drink. “Thanks for this. We’ll definitely have to catch up next time.”

  “You bet. I’m looking forward to it.”

  A few minutes later, Vivien parked the car at the playhouse and scooped up the box from the passenger seat. The box of playbills, fresh from the printer, smelled like success. She balanced the box on her hip while she unlocked the door then turned at the sound of an engine pulling up behind her.

  She’d know that rumble anywhere. Boone pulled up, his window down, arm resting on the edge like James Dean.

  “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you this early.”

  “Thought I’d see if we could get dinner after you’re done.”

  She juggled the box in her hands. “Sure. Park and come on in. I’m going to go set these down.”

  He gave her a nod and she heard him cut the engine as the door closed. She flipped the light switch and dropped the box onto the floor.

  Set pieces were strewn across the stage. Broken two-by-fours jutted out at odd angles, their raw edges splintering the light.

  She covered her mouth and sucked in a breath. Oh, no. No.

  The curtains had been sliced, and she stepped over broken glass where lights had fallen to the floor.

  Shattered. Everything.

  She jumped at the sound of the door swinging shut. She turned to where Boone stood, his mouth open, hands on his hips, as if he too, couldn’t quite grasp the scene before them.

  “What happened here?” He stepped up next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Who would do this?”

  She started to speak, the sound coming out a hoarse crack. Her mind played through the scene, though, sobered by the realization that Gordy would be here any minute.

  “We have to clean up before Gordy gets here.” She slipped from his grasp and began pulling at the set pieces. “Before he gets here. Come on.” She rubbed her temple. “What are we going to do?” She didn’t even know where to start.

  “Vivien—stop. What are you doing? It’s a crime scene. Don’t touch any of it!”

  She grabbed the trash can and tried to keep her voice on the near side of hysterical. “We have to clean this up.” She ran to him, grabbed him. “You have to help me. Come on! Boone, help me!”

  He tried to hold her back. “Viv. You gotta let the police investigate this.”

  She rounded on him. “You don’t understand. I can’t lose this theater.” Her heart pounded, her pulse filling her ears, drowning out everything else.

  “Vivien—calm down.”

  She tore out of his grip. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you—I’m going to get blamed for this. Gordy’s going to ruin me.”

  “He’s not. He’ll understand—why would you ever damage the theater?”

  “You weren’t here. Earlier this summer, my youth show was here. But there was an accident and they hit a sprinkler head and—”

  She was hyperventilating. She leaned over, her hands on her knees.

  Calm down.

  She felt Boone’s hand on her back, as if he didn’t know what to do, and she could feel herself coming unglued but didn’t know how to stop it.

  Her breaths rushed over each other.

  And then—

  Gordy walked in.

  The moment his eyes settled on the playhouse, the lights, the curtains, a scarlet hue started at his collar and swept up to his runaway hairline.

  “What have you done?”

  “Hey!” Boone stepped toward Gordy.

  “I didn’t do anything.” She straightened, scrabbling hard for her voice.

  Gordy poked his finger at her. “I trusted you, Vivien. I vouched for you with the school board—even after everything that happened before.” He turned to Boone. “And you? I should have known not to trust an outsider.”

  Boone held up a hand. “Whoa, there. I think you’re missing the mark here.”

  “No, I don’t think I am. Everywhere Vivien goes, disaster is sure to follow. Isn’t that right, Vivie?”

  “Leave her alone. This is a criminal case, not a social lynching.”

  “You have no business telling me how anything should be in this town. You aren’t part of it.”

  And that was probably the last thing Gordy should have said because Boone’s eyes narrowed, his fists balled. “You think you’re so high and mighty, Gordy. You think you run this town. Well, you may have the old money. You may have the clout. But we’re not the trash you treat us as.”

  Vivien tried to get air. Tried to speak. Nothing came out, and the room started to spin.

  “How dare you—”

  “How dare I what, Gordy? How dare I call it like I see it? Because, you know—who am I? I’m just Boone Buckam. Just an outsider, right?”

  “Oh, I’ll tell you what you are—”

  Then—maybe Gordy stepped a little too close to Boone. Maybe Boone went into cop mode and forgot he was standing there as a civilian. But as Gordy’s arm extended, Boone snagged it, twisted it, and had Gordy up against the wall in a second flat.

  Gordy shouted, in anger and probably pain. But Boone had a fighter’s grip on him.

  And there went every chance she had of making peace with Gordy again and probably destroying any chance of a successful theater production.

  Oh no, Boone! Vivien sucked in a sob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the door opened again and Kyle, still in uniform, stepped into the chaos with his wife, Emma.

  Chapter 15

  Boone knew there was trouble the moment he’d heard Vivien’s gasp inside the theater. He’d run in. Seen the carnage. The entire set destroyed. The lights shattered across the stage floor.

  The wrecked look on her face. She’d gone into a frenzied panic and somehow, he’d left even-keeled behind when Gordy came storming in—blaming her.

  So, yeah. Boone had seen red.

  He should have taken a breath. Stepped back. Separated Gordy’s
anger from his accusations.

  Instead, just like in Kellogg, everything unraveled. At least he’d stopped before he’d sent Gordy all the way to the ground.

  And then the sheriff walked through the door.

  Kyle took in the blast zone of wreckage before him and Boone, standing there with Gordy in a straight-arm bar, and it was all over for Boone.

  “Let him go, Boone,” Kyle said in a law enforcement voice.

  Right. Fine. Boone released Gordy, stepped back, his hands up. “He was out of control,” he said.

  Gordy rounded on him. “I’m not the one out of control!” The man shouted, his face bright red, his eyes narrowed. He pointed toward the debris. “Do you know how much money and time my family has put into this building? Do you know what it means to us?”

  Boone turned to Kyle, still breathing hard. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “I want to press charges.” Sweat beaded on Gordy’s brow, turning his receding hairline dark. “This man—” He pointed at Boone. “This man threatened and assaulted me.”

  “I didn’t threaten you!” Boone drew in a breath. Stop talking.

  “So, you admit to assaulting me.” Gordy straightened his shirt and tugged his sweater back over his robust middle.

  “That wasn’t an assault—that was a control hold.” He, too, could use his cop voice. He turned to Kyle. “And, really, the guy had it coming. He’s acting like a lunatic.”

  “I’m the lunatic? I didn’t throw anybody against a wall.”

  “You came after me!” Boone said, but honestly, it happened so fast—

  He might have grabbed Gordy anyway, the way he was lashing into Vivien.

  Boone looked to Vivien, who stood, her hand on her forehead, her eyes blinking. Saying nothing. She just stood there, letting Gordy tear into him.

  Looking at him as if he’d destroyed her world.

  And frankly, her expression looked so much like the one PJ Sugar had given him the night he’d let her take the blame for the country club fire, it felt like a punch, right to his heart.

  He couldn’t fix this. Perfect. He’d wrecked another woman’s life. Maybe he was exactly what Kellogg thought about him. And the realization that maybe he really couldn’t change who he was sucked the air from his lungs.

  Kyle held up a hand. “Gordy, I think everyone needs to take a step back.”

  “No. I won’t. I won’t back down from this bully. I want him arrested. Right now. And, you know what? You’ll hear from my lawyer too.”

  Kyle blew out a long breath and nodded for Boone to step aside.

  Boone followed him. “Listen—”

  “I think it’s best that you go.”

  “Fine. I’ll be at the cabin if you want my statement.”

  Kyle gave him a grim-faced shake of his head. “No. I mean head back home to Kellogg.” Kyle’s jaw was tight. He lowered his voice. “I think that’s really the only chance you have of getting Gordy to back down right now. He’s hot about what happened and he’s a powerful man. If you push him before he cools off, there’s no telling what kind of destruction it will do.” He looked toward Gordy, who was rubbing his arm and shoulder. “I’m going to see if I can do some damage control.”

  Boone rubbed his hands over his face. Leave? Right Now?

  Kyle stepped away and then paused. Turned. “Really, I don’t want to see this blow up into something that hurts your career and destroys your chance for the promotion. You belong in Kellogg.”

  He didn’t need to say anymore. Boone could fill in the rest. You don’t belong in Deep Haven.

  And as much as Boone wanted to fight it, maybe Kyle was right.

  Especially when Gordy piped up and threatened Kyle’s future as a sheriff.

  “Fine. I’m gone.” He shot a look at Vivien, whose eyes widened.

  Then, his heart banging hard against his chest, he stalked out of the theater toward his car.

  “Boone! Wait!” Vivien scrambled out behind him and he could hardly stand to see the look on her face. She wiped tears from her cheeks. “What are you doing?”

  “You heard Kyle. I have to go.”

  “Go where?” She got between him and his car and gestured toward the theater door. “We have to fix this.”

  “I’m leaving for Kellogg.”

  “Now? You can’t leave now. The playhouse is a wreck and we only have a week to find a new location and rebuild the sets and—”

  He put his hands on her shoulders, cut his voice low. Even. “No, Vivie. It’s not going to happen. I have to go.”

  “You don’t!” Her voice shook and tore a piece of his heart. Her beautiful eyes filled.

  “You know Gordy’s going to ruin my career. Ruin my chances for the promotion if I stay.”

  Her breath hitched. “I thought…I thought you weren’t going to take the promotion.”

  And he could read it in her eyes. I thought you were staying.

  Yeah, well, him too. The thought hit him like a punch. He’d wanted to stay. To build a new life here, with Vivien.

  And his temper had screwed that up too. He took a breath.

  “That promotion is all I’ve got. And I’m certainly not going to put Kyle’s career at risk.” He stepped away from her and dug into his pocket for his keys.

  She blinked at his words, openmouthed, as if slapped. “What about the…the play?”

  “The sets are destroyed, the playhouse is out of bounds again, and your male lead has to drop out. I don’t think there’s going to be a play. I’m sorry.”

  And now he really hated himself.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’re not going to fight for it?”

  He swallowed and looked away. “What is there to fight for? Everything’s gone.”

  His words turned his throat to acid, and he tightened his jaw. He needed to leave, now, before he did something stupid.

  Like cry.

  “I trusted you to help me pull this off.” She was really crying now, her voice broken.

  Aw. And he didn’t know where the words came from, maybe the desperate attempt to pull them both back from the jagged emotional edge, but—“Come on, Vivie. Don’t be so dramatic. Look at my life. It’s no surprise, is it?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Happy endings are fiction. Fairy tales.” He pushed past her, opened his door. “I don’t belong here and I should have figured that out long ago before I let myself get involved in some stupid play.”

  She sucked in a breath. Blinked. Her arm wrapped around her waist, the look on her face…gutted.

  Oh no. “Vivien—you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Except, tears freely flowed down her cheeks. He reached for her.

  She shrugged off his hand, sparks in her eyes. “You just go on. Because you’re right. You should go. You don’t belong here and you most certainly don’t belong with me.”

  He stood staring at her, at the brutal look on her face.

  You don’t belong with me.

  His jaw tightened. “Nope. I guess not.”

  She stepped backwards onto the sidewalk while he got into the car, her breath gasping with sobs again.

  He didn’t look at her as she wept. Couldn’t.

  Not even a glance in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

  Vivien tucked her head when she entered the VFW two hours later, willing the evening chatter to continue. The faces to not look in her direction. The last thing she wanted was to be in the Deep Haven spotlight. She pressed down the roil in her stomach brought on by the smells of food.

  She’d grab the dinner she’d promised to pick up for Ree and then break the news.

  She was leaving Deep Haven.

  She’d made the decision on her drive back from Boone’s cabin. His empty cabin. He’d left town at the speed of Superman.

  Or a thief in the night, because he’d certainly stolen something from her.

  Her future. Hope, even.

  Signe Netterlund stood at the ca
sh register, retying her blonde hair into a high ponytail. “Hey, Viv.”

  “Hi. I’m here to pick up an order for Ree Zimmerman.”

  “Sure.” Signe nodded. “That was two burgers and fries, right? With one onion ring?”

  “That’s the one.” She shoved her hands into her pockets.

  “Let me check. We’re a little shorthanded right now.” She pointed at the Now Hiring sign for a cook. “It should be almost ready.”

  She disappeared into the back and Vivien tugged her ball cap down. Ignored the sting of the memories. The fact that the last time she’d been here had been with Boone talking to Kyle about the case.

  She especially ignored the ache in her heart when she’d gone to his cabin to apologize, only to find it empty.

  He’d bailed on her.

  Apparently, their time together hadn’t meant anything to him. Apparently, he didn’t feel the raw, gaping wound in his heart the way she did in her own.

  And, apparently, he really had meant the words I don’t belong in some stupid play.

  Had she roped him into things he hadn’t wanted to do?

  She’d been a fool to try to compete with his dream promotion. To let hope latch on to her heart.

  No. Even as her heart warred for her to go after him, to call him, to beg him to come back, she wouldn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  Because that’s exactly what she’d done to her dad. Cried. Clung to him. Begged him not to go.

  Don’t be so dramatic.

  Boone had made his choice. She tugged a tissue from her purse and wiped her nose. Vivien didn’t need him.

  Right.

  The truth scraped her raw the entire way back to her house with her bag of burgers and fries. Well, she hoped Seth was available for lunch because she’d lost her appetite.

  She’d failed.

  Again.

  Only this time, she hadn’t just let herself down, or let strangers in New York City down. No, this time, she’d let her friends down. Beth. Ella. Courtney. Adam. All the time Mona had put into helping promote it. The businesses who’d put up money to sponsor the show. Evergreen Resort. Wild Harbor Trading Post. Java Cup.

  There was only one place she could run to in order to get away from Deep Haven.