Redwood Bend (23 page)

“Hmm,” Tom said. “I’ve seen her a couple of times. She’s been in the orchard, poking around, and she’s not a happy mother…”

“I have twin boys. I feel her pain. I think I need a gun.”

“Katie, it takes a lot of gun to stop a bear her size. Can you handle a rifle?”

“That’s one thing I haven’t gotten around to, but I’ve got a permit for a handgun. Not that I have a handgun—not to be redundant, but twin boys… I did buy myself a really awful air horn—she hated that. But she took her kids out of my yard. After she made a noise that sounded as near to a growl as it could be. I don’t think we’re friends.”

“I’ll call Fish and Game,” Tom said. “That little lady might have to be dealt with. Maybe relocated if she’s going to be trouble. I’d hate for her to get shot.”

“On the other hand, I’d hate to be eaten,” Katie said.

Tom Cavanaugh grinned handsomely. “Maybe your husband will show you how to handle a rifle. I knew a girl in the Marines as little as you and she’s a crack shot. It’s not always about size.”

Oh, man, Katie thought. That was pretty obvious. And boy did young Tom have a wrong number. Wouldn’t it be cruel to tell him,
I’m a knocked-up widow with twin five-year-old boys—run for your life.
“I’m widowed. I lost my husband in the war—Afghanistan.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said immediately, dropping his head. “If there’s any way I can help out—”

“That’s very nice, but my older brother is right here in town. He’s not off work yet today, but if I need him in a hurry, I can find him. And there’s Jack…”

“There’s always Jack,” Tom said. “But if there’s ever anything your brother or Jack can’t help out with…”

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for calling the game warden or whoever you’re calling. And nice to meet you. I’d better go grab those boys…”

When you’re the potential star in a movie, investors and distributors consider the weight of the cast in making their decisions about backing the film. Dylan had played the Hollywood game for three weeks, consenting to an interview about his consideration of a script, socializing with key people along with the producer and director and allowing himself to be photographed a few times. Lee Drake was still working on the contract, but he said it was moving in a very positive direction and shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks before he could pronounce it satisfactory and ready to sign. Once that happened, there would be even more prepublicity buzz that would lend itself to making money for the movie. He’d eaten too much rich food, imbibed too much liquor, ran into family members altogether too often. Bryce had faded into that background but Blaine and Cherise seemed to coincidentally appear at some of the same restaurants he happened to be dining in. Thank God his number was changed so they couldn’t call him on top of all that.

He smiled as much as he could, but he hated it. At least the social aspect. He wasn’t accustomed to that lifestyle anymore.

There was one exception to his discontent—he had been spending a little time with his grandmother. He filled her in on all the details that led to his reading of the script and negotiating of a contract. “Lang said that while business is still down compared to previous years, he has bid on a few charters and has rented out planes here and there—so they’re hanging in there. With Sue Ann’s help, they can manage Childress Aviation while I’m here working. Stu is minding the store, taking care of the runway, maintenance, fueling, that sort of thing. I need to get back there and get things stabilized before I commit to any kind of filming schedule.”

“This is all so unnecessary…unless it’s what you absolutely want.”

“It’s completely necessary,” Dylan said.

“You’re my only living heir,” she reminded him. “And I’m loaded.”

“I make my own way if I can,” he said. “For all I know, you’ll get pissed off at me for some reason and give it all to your cat. Then where would I be?”

“I don’t have a cat…”

“Yet…”

It wasn’t exactly an argument; it was more of an examination of boundaries. He appreciated her in many ways, was grateful for all she’d done for him, understood that after all her many years of hard work she was more than a little comfortable. But she was seventy-six. With any luck she would live to be a hundred and six. Besides, these were the boundaries
she’d
pounded into his head during their retreat to Payne, that he wasn’t a little god who should have his way paid just because of some sense of entitlement.

She taught him to get over himself.

“I have only a couple of concerns about doing a movie,” he said. “One is that I’ll enjoy the acting and despise all the ancillary bullshit, not the least of which is my mother, stepbrothers and -sisters and half brothers and sisters moving in on me with requests. I don’t want to get hooked, which will have me putting up with that kind of B.S. again and again. And the other is you thinking it’s a mistake.”

She shook her head. “First of all, I think you’re past being the vulnerable kid star who doesn’t really understand what’s happening. Second, I’m an actor,” she said. “I still work because I love it and also despise a lot of the ancillary bullshit. I do it because I
want
to. Millions of people who are trying to just get a part in a commercial would kill me to have a tenth of the opportunity I have had, and believe me, I don’t take that for granted. But, Dylan, when I decide to take on a part, I’m happy. If this makes you unhappy, find another way.”

“It’s probably going to be six months of shooting,” he said. “And it’s a frightening amount of money.”

“How are you handling the family?” she asked.

“I’ve said no, I’ve changed my cell number, I’m ignoring them, but I admit, they make it hard. They’re everywhere, it seems.”

“And your mother?”

“Cherise is the hardest to ignore…” She was his mother. He hated her and loved her. That she would use him was so painful. And so predictable.

“Yes, I can imagine,” Adele said. “So, when do you leave for Montana?”

“In a few days. I’ll fly back to Northern California where I left my bike. I’ve decided to rent a truck and haul the bike home. After the last few weeks, I don’t think I’m up to a long-distance ride on the Harley.”

“How long will the drive take you?” she asked.

“A couple of days,” he said. “But I have a little unfinished business in Humboldt County…”

She lifted a thin, meticulously honey-colored brow and said, “Indeed?”

Oh, indeed.

Dylan had to see her once more. Katie. She didn’t want him, he got that. He’d called her, given her the new number, asked her to call and she hadn’t—he got the message. His own fault, he admitted. And she didn’t think their lives matched; didn’t want to get mixed up with some Hollywood kid and he couldn’t blame her. But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel complete. “There’s a girl,” he told Adele. “She doesn’t want to be involved with an actor. Actors have rotten reputations for little things like fidelity. But I like her. I’m going to give her one more chance to reject me. I just haven’t suffered enough yet.”

“Listen, Dylan, there are lots of ordinary families who grapple with lousy relationships and plenty of actors who marry for the long-term, quite happily.”

“I know. I just want to stop in Humboldt County and see her, make sure she’s doing fine, that she feels the same way she did when I left—that she isn’t interested. Because I think if we had a little time…”

But they didn’t have time.

No matter how hard it was, no matter how tempted he was by her, he had to try to make her understand what he was feeling. He wasn’t just some irresponsible pretty boy. A gentleman would find a way to say, “You’re important and I’m going to miss you.” To leave as though nothing that happened between them mattered, that was just wrong. He was going to fix that. Even if he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

Then he’d go back to Payne, lock down the little airport, leaving Lang, Sue Ann and Stu in charge, and he’d go make a movie. Why not? He’d save his company and he’d do it himself, not the way his extended family would have done it, not by taking handouts.

First mission—see Katie and apologize for abandoning her on a moment’s notice.

He dreaded it.

He couldn’t wait.

He was scared to death.

When he got back to Humboldt County a couple of days later, he rented a truck, loaded his Harley in the back and drove to Virgin River. He stopped off at Jack’s for a beer and a meal, killing time and bolstering his courage before facing her. He was afraid if she cried he’d never be able to leave, to do what he had to do. If she was furious with his unannounced appearance, it might take him a lifetime to convince her he wasn’t a low-life loser to treat her as he had and he’d never be able to leave her. If she threw her arms around him…yeah, he’d never be able to leave her.

He had a second beer and barely touched his dinner.

Katie visited Mel Sheridan, the friendly neighborhood midwife, who confirmed what she already knew—pregnant. In addition to an appointment for an ultrasound in Grace Valley to determine an accurate due date and a bunch of vitamins, Mel insisted on running a battery of tests for STDs. This was a very sensible precaution under the circumstances.

“Failed condom?” Katie asked Mel. “Seriously?”

“It’s been known to happen,” Mel said. “Or maybe brief contact before or after the condom… Whatever it was, Katie, it’s the real deal. Do we need to have a discussion of your options?”

“What options?” Katie asked.

“Are you planning on having the baby? Because I don’t—”

“Yes,” Katie said without hesitation.

“And the father?” Mel asked.

“Long gone,” Katie said.

“I’m sorry. I take that to mean he doesn’t know?”

Katie shook her head.

“Do you want him to know?”

“What’s the difference?” she asked with a shrug.

“There’s the issue of financial support,” Mel said. “The only time I don’t recommend pursuing that is in cases of abuse or neglect or… Katie, you didn’t make this baby alone and you don’t have to shoulder all the responsibility alone. And there’s the fact that he deserves to know, unless telling him endangers you or the child.”

She took a deep breath. Dylan was passionate about not wanting children, but he was a good man. But what kind of father would a man like that make? Probably just an absent one. She was better off on her own. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I appreciate your help.” Then she bit her lower lip—but he was wonderful with her boys.

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“I don’t think there’s anything more right now.” Because she was going to tell her brother and Leslie. It was early, yes. And maybe it being early, Conner would stop twitching by the time she began to show.

A couple of days later, Katie asked Leslie and Conner if they could come out to the cabin after work for a beer. They sat on the porch and kept an eye on the monkeys on the swing set. Katie had tea while Leslie and Conner had cold beer.