A Summer Wedding at Cross Creek Inn

by Cheryl Holt

  She wasn’t Eric’s type in even the slightest way.

  Sharon had witnessed the females he preferred: blond, tall, gorgeous models. Movie starlets. Rich, spoiled daughters of hedge fund billionaires. Jennifer was the complete opposite of those women, and Sharon couldn’t figure out why her son had forged ahead. He wasn’t a person who would fall madly in love, so it couldn’t be due to fond affection.

  She couldn’t deduce what was spurring him to such a ludicrous conclusion, but she couldn’t confide any of that to Jennifer’s father.

  “I’m starving,” he suddenly said. “How about you?”

  “Well . . . yes. I didn’t eat all afternoon because I was expecting to eat here.”

  “Have you checked the menu in this place? It’s a bunch of foo-foo nonsense.”

  She chuckled. “I won’t even ask what that means.”

  “I just want a hamburger, so I’m going down into the village to have one. There’s a sports bar, and the concierge promised I could watch the Dodgers game there. Would you like to come with me?”

  She didn’t debate longer than a second. What was her other option? Would she mope in her room? Would she hang around and chat with Jennifer’s millennial friends? Would she wander the halls until she bumped into Crystal again?

  “I haven’t been to a sports bar in years,” she said. “I would love to go with you.”

  “A car was ordered for me, so a valet can drop us off. It’s out front. Can you leave right now?”

  “I don’t have my purse.”

  “It’s my treat. I think I can even afford to spring for a pizza.”

  “If you’re buying, then yes, I can definitely leave right now.” She smiled a genuine smile, the first one she’d displayed since she’d arrived.

  They stood, and he actually clasped her hand and linked their fingers as if they were dating. He escorted her out to the lobby, as if he was in charge and in control, and she adored a man who knew how to lead the way.

  Amy loafed in the shadows on the rear patio, staring through an open door into the bar. The wedding was a private event, so everyone was an invited guest, and they were laughing and drinking.

  They were mostly in their twenties, friends of Eric or Jennifer, with a few relatives thrown into the mix. She studied them as if it was a science project she didn’t understand. She was only thirty herself, but in light of her experiences, she felt a hundred years older than all of them.

  Jennifer was in the middle of the fun, talking animatedly and acting as if she was fine, but she wasn’t. Rachel was visible too, off by herself and glowering intently. People skirted by her as if her obvious bad mood might be catching.

  Amy sighed with regret. She always wished she could fix problems for others, but she couldn’t even fix herself, so it was a vanity she constantly tamped down.

  Josh Taylor was inside, and she was assessing him much too avidly, but she couldn’t stop. He was tall and muscular, his body honed from athletic activity, and with his blue eyes and blond hair, he looked like a Greek god.

  The guests were agog over him. The guys hovered close, eager to glom onto him, and the girls circled like mares around a stallion, anxious to be singled out, and she wondered which one he’d spend the night with. She had no doubt he would. He was too gorgeous to ever sleep by himself.

  He went to the bar to get another beer, so she lost sight of him, but several minutes later, he exited the building and came out onto the patio. He’d escaped his gaggle of admirers, so he was alone for once. He strolled over to the rail and gazed out into the darkness. The moon wasn’t up yet, so the sky was black, the stars brilliant and breathtaking.

  With her concealed by the shadows, he hadn’t noticed her. She was debating whether to make her presence known, when he turned to balance his hips on the rail and saw her lurking.

  “I was about to say hello,” she told him.

  He flashed a delicious smile. “If it isn’t my favorite commune resident. I was searching for you inside. Why are you hiding?”

  “I’m not much of a one for parties.”

  It was a huge lie. There were unending gatherings at the commune. Women always congregated in groups. They worked and sewed and planted and harvested. Her hours were a string of socializing for the greater good, but she was rarely around strangers, and the wedding festivities seemed loud and moving too fast.

  “Are you drinking?” he asked. “Would you like me to grab you a glass of wine?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Is that a commune thing? Or is it a personal choice?”

  “It’s a personal choice. Our leader isn’t very religious, so we’re free to carry on however we please. We can drink or smoke or engage in any vice that tickles our fancy.”

  “Your leader isn’t religious? Yet it’s a commune? Every word you utter is so fascinating to me.”

  “I realize I sound as if I live on Mars, but it’s really not that different from anywhere else.”

  “But it’s a harder existence. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “Yes, it can be very hard,” she admitted.

  “Your hands show the proof of it.”

  The comment should have made her ashamed, but she wasn’t. Her life was one of effort and striving, and her hands bore the evidence of how diligently she toiled away, but physical chores kept her mind occupied, so there was no time to grieve or lament.

  He shifted nearer, and she liked standing next to him. He was sturdy and solid, and she wanted to lean into him so he could hold her up for awhile.

  “You haven’t been on anymore hikes, have you?” she asked. “I was worried all afternoon that you might get lost again.”

  “I learned my lesson. I won’t wander—unless you’re with me.” He spun and peered up at the stars. “The sky is so much clearer here, and the stars look closer than they do in the city. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them like this.”

  “I’m happy to have them shining down on us. The moon will rise soon too, then the night will be even prettier.”

  “You follow the moon’s rising and setting?”

  “Of course. I’m a woman of the earth. The moon guides me.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m trying to decide if that’s a benefit or if it indicates that I need to broaden my horizons.”

  “There aren’t many people like me,” she said, “except at my commune. If you visited me there, you’d bump into an entire little village of us.”

  He finished his beer and put the bottle on a table. They were silent, content with each other’s company, and she suspected he’d go back in, and that he’d ask her to go with him, but she wouldn’t. She’d enjoyed the interval with him, and she’d been spoiled by it. She wouldn’t hover on the edge of his adoring circle and watch him be charming.

  “I can’t bear to head inside,” he surprised her by saying.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t feel like having everyone gape at me.”

  “You liar. You like being the center of attention.”

  “Usually, yes, but I’m too distracted.” He yanked his focus from the Inn to her. “Would you like to take a walk? The paths are illuminated with lamps, so it should be fairly safe.”

  “I’d love to take a walk,” she said. “Have you been to the hot springs?”

  “There’s a hot springs?”

  “Yes, and I want to see it at night. It’s in a beautiful grotto.”

  “When Eric told me the wedding would be held at this isolated inn, I assumed I’d hate it, but it’s turning out to be extremely interesting.”

  “You’re broadening your horizons, remember?”

  “So I am, and it’s about time too.”

  They sauntered off together, leaving the party behind. The noise and lights quickly faded, and they ambled through the qui
et woods. He’d rested a palm on the small of her back, as if he was keeping her steady, and she was thrilled to have him touching her. It made her seem linked to him in a way that was important.

  The grotto wasn’t far, and when they arrived, the place was empty. Hot water bubbled out of the rocks and into a pool that had been dammed. Then it trickled over the dam and into a stream that meandered down the canyon.

  There was a bench next to the pool, and they sat down. She was used to silence, to not talking, and she didn’t need to fill the void with chatter.

  “This spot is amazing,” he said after a bit. “Do you suppose people skinny-dip here?”

  “I’m sure they do. If we came back after the guests are drunker, I’m certain it would be disgusting and wild.”

  “It’s nice for now. I’m glad it’s just the two of us.”

  He shifted slightly, so he was looking at her. He lifted his arm and laid it across the slats of the bench. It wasn’t exactly draped over her shoulders, but it felt as if it was.

  “Why would you join a commune?” he asked. “I’ve met your family, and they’re very ordinary compared to you. How did you wind up there?”

  “I don’t normally discuss it.”

  “Tell me,” he urged. “And don’t make up a story. I’m betting it wasn’t an easy decision, and I’d like to hear what drove you to it.”

  “You’d have to swear you’ll keep it a secret. I can’t have Eric’s family find out. Jennifer will have trouble fitting in with them, and I wouldn’t like to make it any harder for her.”

  “What could you have ever done that might upset them? I simply can’t picture anything.”

  “You’d be surprised by what sort of calamity can occur when a person isn’t careful.”

  “No, I wouldn’t be. I’m a professional athlete. I’ve witnessed more tragedy than you could ever imagine.” She still didn’t expound, and with his free hand, he linked their fingers and squeezed tight. “I’ll keep your secret. I swear.”

  She studied his eyes, then scoffed. “There’s not enough light for me to know if you mean it or not.”

  “Take a chance, Amy. Let’s discover what happens.”

  He grinned a devastating grin she couldn’t resist. She figured he’d tantalized a million women in just that same way, and she shouldn’t have allowed it to bowl her over, but it did. They seemed bonded, as if they’d been attached forever, and she would never discount the type of connection they shared.

  As her swami always counseled, there were no coincidences. She’d met Josh Taylor for a reason. What would it turn out to be?

  She never talked about her past. Part of her reticence was because of the shame her actions had brought to her dad and her siblings, but it was also because she couldn’t shuck off her guilt. She was trying to heal herself, but whenever she reflected on the defining incident of her life, she wound up ten steps back on her road to recovery.

  Yet Josh was genuinely interested, and she’d never see him again after the wedding was over. Weddings were notorious for stirring unexpected relationships, so why not confess it to him?

  Maybe it was a piece of her moving on. Maybe that was why they’d crossed paths.

  “I killed someone,” she bluntly said, “when I was seventeen.”

  “What? No!”

  “I was drunk—and driving. It was winter. Icy.”

  He scrutinized her, then shook his head. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “I would never joke about such a terrible disaster.”

  “Who . . . did you . . . ah . . .”

  “Who did I kill? It’s difficult to say aloud, isn’t it?”

  “Very difficult.”

  “It was my best friend, Joanne. We’d been buds from fourth grade on. We went to a basketball game, then to a party afterward. We weren’t supposed to, and we both lied to our parents. We had a wreck on the way home.”

  “You ran off the road or what?”

  “Yes, we skidded down an embankment and slammed into a tree. She was crushed by it.” He looked stunned, as if she’d punched him, and she added, “Yes, I was arrested, and yes, I was jailed for manslaughter.”

  “My goodness.”

  “It was juvenile jail until I was twenty-one, so it was only for three years.” She chuckled miserably. “You can return to the Inn. You don’t have to sit here with me if you don’t want to.”

  He clucked his tongue with offense. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Now you’re aware of why I never mention my past.”

  “You must have joined the commune right after you were released from prison.”

  “Yes. A girl was incarcerated with me—she was there for selling drugs—and she told me about it. I couldn’t face the world or my family, but she’d lived there and thought it might be a place to transition. It’s been a huge benefit for me to stay with them. They’re very forgiving, and they’ve never judged me.”

  “But you judge yourself.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, I guess I would.”

  Then he did the sweetest thing. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on hers. They remained like that for an eternity, their breath mingling, their pulses beating in the same slow rhythm.

  When he pulled away, he smirked. “I just realized that we’re two lost souls.”

  “Well, I am anyway. I’m not sure about you. You seem quite centered to me.”

  “It’s July, Amy, and I’m not at a ballpark. I’m in the woods with you instead, and I can barely lift my arm. I can’t imagine what will happen to me.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He’d probably played baseball since he was a toddler, but his career was ending, and he’d have to start over and become someone else. She knew all about starting over and becoming someone else. It was a long, tough journey.

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “I have no doubt at all.”

  “What’s that old saying? From your lips to God’s ear?”

  “You won’t treat me differently now, will you? I feel like we’re friends, and I would hate for this to change that perception.”

  “I’m glad you confided in me,” he said. “My heart is broken for you.”

  “I don’t deserve any sympathy, but it’s lovely that you offered it.”

  “This is why you don’t drink, right? I offered to get you a glass of wine, but you didn’t want one.”

  “I never drink. Or drive. In fact, I’m not allowed to drive.”

  “Will you tell me about Joanne someday?” he asked. “Can you talk about her? Or would you rather not?”

  “I will tell you someday. It’s painful, so I never do, but maybe it’s time.”

  “Maybe.”

  They smiled together, and he gestured toward the hot springs pool. “And if I begged nicely, would you skinny-dip with me?”

  “No, I won’t skinny-dip, but you might be able to convince me to come back with a bathing suit some evening.”

  “I might try that, so long as we can avoid Eric’s rowdy friends. I wouldn’t be too excited to be out here with any of them.”

  His arm slid off the bench and onto her shoulders. He drew her close and snuggled her to his chest. They sat quietly, enjoying the dark night and the soothing sound of the bubbling water trickling over the dam.

  She had tears in her eyes, which was silly because she wasn’t sad. She was . . . content, for once, and it was like a beautiful gift.

  “Does it feel like we were destined to meet?” he asked.

  “Yes, it does,” she said. “It feels exactly that way.”

  Crystal’s phone pinged to indicate a text had been received, then, as if the device had been shaken out of hibernation, it kept pinging like crazy, sounding as if a thousand messages had found their way up to the Rocky Mountains.

 
Crystal was sitting in a chair in her suite, her makeup artist finishing her face, and the phone was over on the dresser.

  “Shall I grab it for you?” the woman asked.

  “No, I’ll look at it when we’re finished.”

  She had several different phones and numbers, and the one currently clanging was a direct line to her lawyer. It could only be more bad news, and she wouldn’t glance at the screen while people were with her. She had to constantly be vigilant that she didn’t provide gossip they could sell to the tabloids.

  “Someone must be desperate to contact you,” the woman said, fishing for a comment.

  “It’s more likely that my phone finally connected with a cell tower, and my bottled-up messages were delivered all at once. I inquired about cell service before I booked this hotel, and they swore it was great, but I’m not sure they were telling the truth.”

  “Are you having trouble? I haven’t had a single problem.”

  Crystal gnashed her teeth. From the instant she’d arrived in the isolated spot, she’d felt as if the universe was conspiring against her.

  The woman held up a hand mirror so Crystal could study herself and asked, “What do you think?”

  “I guess it’s fine,” Crystal blandly replied, never one to bestow compliments.

  Her team was waiting for her down in the lobby. She was about to head out into the woods to film some shots she could use so it would seem as if she’d been meditating in the forest. She’d lightened her eyes and reddened her cheeks so it would appear she’d been huffing and puffing with exertion.

  As if . . .

  She waved the woman out, saying, “Inform everyone for me that I’ll be down in a minute.”

  The woman packed up her supplies, taking an inordinate amount of time, as if hoping Crystal would peek at her phone. Crystal loafed in her chair, pretending scant interest until the woman exited, then she leapt over and picked it up.

  Watch video, then call immediately, her attorney had typed.

  There were others with glaring words in all caps, such as PUBLIC RELATIONS NIGHTMARE and PUBLICIST MUST STRATEGIZE RESPONSE.

  She was actually trembling when she clicked on the link, and there was Lindsey, in a busy bar when she was too young to be there. She’d been captured by some idiot in the crowd. Crystal’s initial reaction was relief that it was Lindsey and not herself doing something foolish that would infuriate Dennis, but as the scene continued, her temper boiled.