Redwood Bend (33 page)

Lang was quiet for a moment before he said, “So, you found her. The one.”

“I found her. There is no one like her in the world. And she’s pregnant.”

There was a chuckle that came all the way from Montana. “You always did get ahead of yourself.”

“I have a lot to prove,” Dylan said. “You probably know this already, but I don’t have one freaking medal to my name. I have a lot to prove to her. To myself.”

“It’s going to come naturally, you’ll see.”

“The boys have never been on a horse or in a small plane. They’ve never reached under a hen for an egg, and they don’t know what a blizzard is.”

“I can’t count the number of times I wished I didn’t know what a blizzard was. They make me wonder how you talked me into this place,” Lang said.

“And times like spring in the mountains when you thank me. We have to flip for who gets to chase wildlife off the runway, it’s so much fun. I’ve heard you say you’d never raise your family anywhere else.”

“That’s what the snowplow is for, chasing the wildlife. Those twins ever ride in a snowplow and chase a big, mean old moose off a runway so a plane can land?”

Dylan laughed. “I think that’s a no. Here’s what I want to do. I want to bring them to Payne, just to show them where we live. How we live. I want them all to know what it’s like there because when a woman with kids is having your baby, you don’t ask one person to marry you—you ask a family to marry you. But here’s the thing you need to know up front—if she can’t see her way to living in Payne, I’ll live wherever she lives.”

“Absolutely,” Lang said.

“She might just say no to everything,” Dylan said. “If she does, then I pull up stakes and live wherever she lives because…” He let his voice trail off.

“Because you’re going to have to be a part of that.” Lang finished that sentence for Dylan.

“Yep. That’s how it is,” Dylan repeated. “That puts our company kind of up in the air, ha-ha. But first things first.”

“Want me to bring a Bonanza down to pick you up? You and the family?” Lang asked.

“Nah, Katie can’t handle it. I took her up in a little Cherokee and she got sick, so it’s going to have to be something bigger—I’m pretty sure if she isn’t drinking coffee she’s not taking Dramamine. I’ll talk to her and let you know when we’re headed that way. If we’re headed that way.”

“How is Adele handling the news about the baby?” Lang asked.

“Oh, so you know she’s here, huh? Did you encourage this idea of her surprising me in Virgin River?”

“I swear to God, I did not!” Lang insisted. “I did laugh about it, but I didn’t cause it to happen.”

“Well, Adele doesn’t know yet. This isn’t the kind of thing you want to tell your elderly grandmother until you have plans, and my plan is to do anything Katie wants, not anything Adele wants. Help me out a little and don’t tell Adele yet.”

“I can do that for you, bud. And, D? Something you haven’t given me a chance to say.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations.”

Katie was sitting on the porch when the town car pulled into her clearing. Randy parked beside Katie’s SUV. He jumped out to open the door for his passenger.

“Well, good morning,” Katie said. “How are you this morning?”

“Lovely, thank you,” Adele said. “And you?”

“It’s a beautiful morning. I’m afraid Dylan isn’t here.”

“Where has he gone off to?”

“He said something about errands, but I have no idea what errands. Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”

Adele stopped at the steps to the porch. “What are the chances you have tea? Any tea will do.”

“You’re in luck if you can tolerate Earl Grey. Randy?” she called. “I have a pot of coffee. Or there’s tea or juice.”

“Not to worry, ma’am. I’m taken care of.”

Katie laughed and looked at Adele. “I love him. What does it take to get one of him?”

“Well, millions. And a very strong disposition—he sometimes annoys the sanity out of me. He’s full of sass.”

“Is that so?” came from the yard.

“I’ll have trouble with the millions, but I have twin sons—putting up with sass happens to be my specialty. Have a seat, Mrs. Childress. I’ll heat water.”

“Please, call me Adele. And Earl Grey will be splendid.”

“Well, have a seat, Adele. I’ll be right back.”

Katie shook her head and smiled as she busied herself making tea. It was hard for her to imagine this grand dame twenty years ago. There was something about her… She liked to appear difficult while really, she seemed to end up being quite accommodating.

Five minutes later Katie took Adele a tray with her tea. “I’m sorry, there are no proper teacups in the cabin so you have a mug, saucer, a spoon, a little cream and sugar…”

“Perfect,” Adele said. She took a sip before doctoring her tea. “Ah, nicely done. I never minded a tea bag,” she said, as though she did. “It’s absolutely fine.” She took another sip. “I think I’m glad Dylan is busy elsewhere. It gives us a chance to get to know each other.”

Katie chuckled. “Should I prepare to be grilled?”

“Isn’t he a brat? I thought maybe I’d tell you about Dylan. What do you suppose you’d like to know?”

Katie shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She thought for a second. “He gave me this long explanation about growing up all Hollywood and I wondered…is it possible he’s never before dated a woman with children?”

“I suppose it is,” Adele said. “It’s a fact that his parents changed partners so often it left him convinced no one in his family was capable of long, stable relationships. And it must be said, before his father’s death, my son, Dean, wasn’t the best parent. After all, I wasn’t a crackerjack mother! But when Dylan’s friend died, I panicked. I gave thanks that I hadn’t lost Dylan, then snatched him away from his contract, his series, his family. I took a legal beating for it, too, but it was money well spent. We were very lucky. Living in Payne called on Dylan’s strengths and he came around, though it was miserable at first.”

Adele rested her cup and saucer on her knees and looked at Katie. “I think it would be hard for you to imagine the household he grew up in. What chaos. I don’t even know how many children there were in total—Dylan has not one full sibling. They’re all a mess, to the last one. All born and bred in Hollywood, all screwed up, all in various stages of romance, divorce, legal trouble, rehab, whatever you can imagine. Except Dylan. He began to appreciate the simpler expectations of the small Montana town where he lives, got an education and built himself a little business. I can’t say why he tars himself with that same brush—he’s nothing like the rest of them.”

“How in the world did you find that little town?” Katie asked.

“I made a few phone calls and someone knew the place—that it was in a beautiful setting, that it was rustic and not a particularly easy place to live. Mother Nature is a difficult taskmaster in that part of the country, but she rewards the brave and strong with astonishing natural beauty. Now, I was at a time in my life that living with any sort of challenge did not appeal to me in the least. But Dylan? Oh, my…” Adele sipped her tea. “Has Dylan talked much about what it’s like to be a Hollywood kid? A child star?”

“He talked about it some, but I admit, it’s hard to imagine.”

“Imagine this,” Adele said. “As long as you’re in demand, as long as you have the right ratings, you can have anything you want. While you’re a success, people live to please you and there are practically no limits. What’s particularly hard for a child star to understand is that success is very fragile. And the second you slip, the party is over. The fall from grace is fast and hard, you can no longer get away with bad behavior. The pressure to do well is astronomical. Yet Dylan probably had no idea how much pressure he was under.” She shook her head. “Even with all the hard work, big money, fame and recognition, it’s a very difficult and artificial life, but it was all he’d known.

“I took Dylan to a place where he could learn how the America that worshipped him actually lives. And to see what they really thought of him—not as a star but as a kid who had trouble reading, couldn’t play sports very well, had never had to make his own bed, et cetera. I intended for him to be laden with chores rather than the memorizing of scripts, which by the way, someone always read to him to be sure he remembered the right lines.”

“Does he still have trouble reading?” Katie asked.

“I believe he learned to compensate while in Payne. They had a school librarian who had worked with some minor dyslexia in students and she stepped in when asked by his English teacher. Payne—small town where people worked together. They didn’t have much money, couldn’t generate much by way of tax dollars, so they put muscle into their community spirit.”

“Sounds like this place,” Katie said with a smile.

“Dylan was mesmerized by that rugged beauty. I was not—it was too harsh and unyielding for me, but… There’s a hand on the property because there are animals to take care of, and I needed him to show us the ropes. Dylan and I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do if a herd of elk got in the yard—later he had to clear a herd to build the runway.” She smiled. “Look what he’s managed to do. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Does he know how proud you are of him?” Katie asked.

Adele scoffed. “I have a tendency to be a bit rigid. Unsentimental.” There was a snort and some muffled laughter from the direction of the town car and Adele shifted her gaze sharply in that direction. She muttered something that sounded vaguely like
pain in my ass.

Katie laughed softly. They were like an old married couple.

“I hope he knows how much I admire him,” Adele went on. “Talk about taking a sow’s ear… Well, he’s turned himself into a rancher, businessman, good neighbor, friend… I failed his father. I was a hardworking actress while raising Dean and I left him with staff, indulged him, sometimes pulled strings for him and did whatever it took to shut him up. What I ended up with was a great actor who was so completely self-indulgent he was doomed to hubris. He thought he was invincible and thus died in an alcohol-related car accident.” She tsked, shaking her head. “Such a loss. Tragic. So you can see my desperation to rescue Dylan. It was bloody awful, let me tell you. I almost killed us both just learning to drive a Jeep around Montana’s snow-covered roads! Not to even mention the debacle of me trying to feed a moose buck an apple like I thought the thing was a docile pony! We had three years of adjusting to each other, the land and homestead, the people. And then he went to college and set me free. Thank God. But you can be damn sure I never let him get far from me—I insisted we stay in close touch and I spent considerable time in Prescott, where he got his degree.”

Katie couldn’t help but laugh at the image of a teenage boy holding on for dear life while his grandmother, who had probably always had a driver, learned to handle a Jeep in the snow, or facing off with a huge, antlered buck. And how about a frisky college freshman putting up with regular visits from his grandmother?

“You were so devoted to him,” Katie said. “I hope he’s that devoted to you.”

“Most of the time,” she said. “He does get his back up when I don’t shrink into the background like a good little granny.”