Wyatt’s phone buzzed with a call as he headed up a steep incline. He was surprised he even had a signal. He dug the phone from his pocket and saw his dad’s picture on the screen.
He paused only a second. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“Not much. I was getting ready to head into a meeting and thought I’d check in with you real quick. How’s the shoulder doing?”
“Fine. Told you it was nothing.”
“Well, the papers sure made it sound like something.”
“Yeah, well, sensationalism sells.”
“What are you doing? You sound a little winded.”
“Working out.” He hadn’t told his dad about the leave, and he sure wasn’t telling him where he was. Paul Jennings had finally moved on with his life, had even remarried a nice, if slightly vapid, woman named Valerie who supported his political career.
They caught up on the extended family, and Wyatt did his best to give an update on his own life without lying. They made tentative plans to meet for the holidays—probably at Valerie’s request—which seemed like eons away.
When Wyatt got off the phone, he felt a prick of guilt for hiding his whereabouts. But he didn’t want to worry his dad. As he did with everything else, Wyatt would handle his demons on his own.
* * *
Grace headed out to the shed to get the tandem bike she’d just rented to a couple. The tandem had been a popular addition to her rental equipment, and tonight’s weather was perfect for a romantic bike ride.
She said hello to Robin, the photographer who was already taking pictures of the lake view from the inn’s backyard. Things were moving fast. And while the idea of having her own location was exciting, it was also a little scary . . . Molly and Adam moving to Italy, Levi heading to LA to be with Mia. Grace would be left behind in Bluebell all alone. Even her best friend, Sarah, was away at college, and Grace wasn’t sure she’d come back here when she graduated.
She gave her head a hard shake. No reason to feel sorry for herself. She had far more than she deserved.
She unlocked the shed, pulled out the bike, and gave it a thorough cleaning. One nice thing about new digs would be having a decent place to store and display her rental equipment.
When she reached the sidewalk, the honeymooners were waiting for her there. “Did you decide where you’re going?”
“I think we’ll just play it by ear.” The man straddled the front seat, holding the bike steady for his bride.
“We’re working on our spontaneity,” the pretty woman said.
“Yes, we’re planning to be spontaneous.”
“It’s a thing.” The woman shrugged, an adoring gaze focused on her husband.
“Have fun, you two. If you have any problem, my number’s on the card.” Grace watched them ride away, a little wobbly at first. The woman squealed, and the man teasingly chided her for not doing her part.
Grace couldn’t help but smile at their backs. They didn’t look much older than she was, and they’d already found their special someone. She was surrounded by happy couples.
But that was all right. Her brother and sister deserved to be happy. They’d given up a lot for Grace. They never once held it over her head, but she saw their sacrifices. Even now Levi was still here, taking care of things, when he should be in California.
It was a lot to live up to. What if her business failed? Levi had told her she should go to college, and she pushed back. But what if he was right? Fifty percent of businesses failed in their first five years—why should hers survive while others’ flopped?
Enough with the negativity. She’d have a nice influx of capital once the inn sold. And hers was the only such business in the area. The off-season would be the challenge—as it had been for the inn. But if she gave it her all, surely that would be enough.
As she turned toward the shed, a whirl of red caught her eye. The approaching minivan—a ’96 Chevy Lumina—anchored her feet to the ground. The model was unique. Even fourteen years ago you didn’t see many of them around.
Grace’s mouth dried. Her heart fought to explode from her chest.
It was coming from the direction of town, going slow. Too slow.
It couldn’t be him. He was still in jail and would rot there. The sun, low in the sky, reflected off the windshield, obscuring the driver. Blinding her.
The adrenaline flooding her system screamed fight or flight, but she couldn’t seem to do either. She could only watch in horror as the vehicle pulled to the curb directly in front of her.
Chapter Five
Lone Creek Falls was a dead end. The pines weren’t thick enough, the terrain was too hilly, and the falls were higher and broader than the one he remembered. Wyatt had reached the trail’s end and turned right back around.
Once in his car he followed the curve of the shoreline, heading back toward town, back to the inn. The sun was low in the sky, and it was too late to set off on another trail. He’d study the maps of the area and do more research online. He’d narrow it down more. There were only two popular waterfalls, but he was starting to think the one he remembered probably wasn’t one of them. Not big enough to be a tourist attraction.
Tomorrow he’d go to the library and see if he could find the old articles. See if they mentioned exactly where it had happened. He should’ve started there.
When he reached the inn he pulled into a slot out front. He grabbed his backpack and exited the vehicle. When he stepped onto the curb he caught sight of Grace to the right of the inn.
She was standing just off the sidewalk, staring straight ahead. All the color had fled her face, leaving her shockingly white. Her eyes were wide, her shoulders hunched as if her head was trying to disappear into them.
He moved to her side, recognizing the glimmer of fear in her eyes. “Grace?”
She didn’t reply. Didn’t even blink.
He followed her line of vision to a faded red minivan a dozen feet away. He stepped between her and the vehicle. Made himself big, his hand automatically on his Glock. His eyes locked on the driver’s door.
It opened slowly, creaking with age. An orthopedic shoe appeared beneath the door. A moment later the slight frame of an elderly woman emerged from the van. She closed the door and slid open the door behind it. A little girl leapt out of the van. She took the woman’s hand, and the two of them headed down the sidewalk, going toward town.
Letting his hand fall, he turned back to Grace.
She was still staring at the van, her breaths fast and shallow. Shock?
He set a hand on her shoulder, dipping down to make eye contact. “Grace?”
Her eyes darted to his, still wide.
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do as I say.” He led her to the curb and she sank onto it.
He dropped down beside her, took her wrist, noting her cold hand, and found her pulse. He counted for ten seconds. Her other hand was pressed to her stomach. She was breathing through her mouth. Rapid pulse.
Her eyes locked on his, panic mounting there. “Don’t feel so good.”
“Purse your lips like this. Breathe slowly through your mouth.”
She did as he said.
“In . . . two . . . three. Out . . . two . . . three. Just like that. Keep going. You’re doing great.” He breathed with her. When her eyes drifted away, he pulled her back to him.