Woodrose Mountain

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “Taryn?”

  The teen briefly looked indecisive, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

  “Give me a minute to touch up my lipstick and grab my purse,” Katherine said.

  After she walked to the back room, Taryn indicated she wanted to look at a new bead magazine that had just come in. While she was leafing through it, Evie pulled Claire aside to talk about the outdoor arts-and-crafts festival she was attending over the weekend and the local beaders who had left projects on consignment for the show.

  “Everybody has really appreciated your hard work this summer. It’s not easy going by yourself to these shows. Setting up, sitting there the whole time, dealing with all the looky-loos.”

  “I’ve enjoyed it,” Evie answered truthfully.

  “How is everything going with Taryn?” Claire asked after checking to be sure the girl was busy with the magazine and not paying them any attention.

  “Wrong question to ask me this afternoon,” she said.

  “What’s happening?”

  She sighed. “I screwed up. You remember that day Charlie came to the store and helped Taryn make a bracelet?”

  Claire huffed. “How could I not remember it? I had to take about four ibuprofen and half a bottle of Tums that afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry,” Evie said with a quick hug, guilty again that she’d put her friend through that ordeal. “The thing is, Taryn really thrived during that visit so, um, Charlie’s been coming to the house to help with her therapy several times a week. I decided not to tell Brodie about it—yes, I was too chicken—but he unexpectedly came home for something this morning and found him there.”

  “Uh-oh. Busted.” Claire looked sympathetic and horrified at the same time.

  She sighed glumly. “Yeah, it wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. But Taryn loved having him there and she worked so hard whenever Charlie helped out. I figured Brodie, of all people, would agree that the ends justified the means, you know?”

  “Is he still talking to you?”

  She thought of the sweetness of that spontaneous embrace in the kitchen, how after that first awkward moment of surprise, he had wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly for a long time.

  “He said Charlie can continue to come as long as we schedule his visits for times when Brodie isn’t home. For all I know, this might be a moot point anyway. Tuesday is my last day with Taryn and it will be up to the new therapist to decide if peers ought to be incorporated in her treatment plan. I’ll do my best to encourage it and explain how helpful they have been with Taryn but it will really be up to her.”

  “Evie, if you need more time, you know you’ve got it.”

  “More time for what?” Katherine asked, emerging from the back room looking as elegant as ever. Evie hoped she could age half as well as Brodie’s mother.

  “More time to figure out how you possibly can be celebrating another birthday yet look younger and more beautiful every day,” she said promptly.

  Katherine rolled her eyes, but before she could respond the chimes on the door sang softly and a couple walked into the store.

  Evie almost laughed as all three of them gave a low, collective groan, just as if they’d practiced it.

  “Good afternoon, Genevieve,” Claire greeted the female half of the couple. Tall and slender with artfully streaked blond hair and always-perfect makeup, Charlie’s older sister smiled vaguely at all of them.

  The Beaumonts were among the wealthiest year-round residents in Hope’s Crossing and Genevieve had no problem flaunting her family’s affluence.

  For the last nine months, she’d been Bridezilla on steroids—bossy, self-absorbed and unreasonably demanding. Claire, unfortunately for her, had been sucked into the gravitational pull of the Beaumont/Danforth wedding when she’d agreed to design custom beadwork on the bodice of Gen’s wedding dress.

  This was actually her second time around doing the work, as Gen’s first dress had been cut to shreds during the robbery of String Fever that had preceded the violent car accident four months earlier.

  Despite everything, Evie actually liked Genevieve. She had picked up the impression more than once that the young woman was more than a little nervous about her upcoming wedding and she found that rather endearing despite all of Genevieve’s sometimes unreasonable demands.

  Those nerves were nowhere in evidence now as Gen swept into String Fever, towing along an extraordinarily striking young man in his late twenties with dark curly hair and laughing blue eyes.

  “I know you told me the dress wouldn’t be ready for a few more weeks, but Sawyer is in town for a few days and I would love for him to see it.”

  “That’s bad luck,” Taryn said, enunciating more clearly than she had all day.

  Genevieve twisted around to look at the magazine corner where Taryn was seated in her wheelchair. When she recognized the girl, Gen’s gaze flicked between Taryn and her fiancé uneasily.

  It wasn’t tough for Evie to interpret the look. To Genevieve, Taryn must appear a blatant reminder of the scandal she would likely prefer to forget. Gen’s fiancé, Sawyer Danforth, was the son of a powerful Colorado politician who was reputedly grooming his son to follow in his footsteps.

  Rumors around town had it that Gen was worried the Danforths no longer considered her good enough for their precious son, now that Gen’s younger brother was facing serious charges in the robberies and the death of Layla Parker in the car accident.

  “I don’t believe in those silly superstitions,” Gen said after an awkward pause. “Neither does Sawyer. Do you, darling?”

  Her fiancé held up his hands. “Don’t drag me into this. You’re the one who wants me to see the dress. I told you I think you’d be perfectly lovely if we got married with you wearing what you have on right now.”

  Since Genevieve was wearing a plain pearl-colored short-sleeve sweater set and a skirt that made her look rather like June Cleaver, Evie found Sawyer’s sentiment quite sweet.

  “Oh, stop.” Genevieve tapped him playfully on the arm. “You’re such a dork sometimes. You really need to see my dress. It’s absolutely stunning. A bit like Kate Middleton’s but with more sparkle.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have it here,” Claire said with that endlessly patient smile. Evie didn’t quite know how she pulled it off after all these months of dealing with Genevieve. By now, Evie would have wanted to shove a couple of healthy-sized tagua-nut beads in her ears to block out the nagging.

  “After what happened to the last one, I’ve been keeping your wedding gown at home under lock and key.”

  Taryn made a funny sound, like a little moan. She shifted in the chair and Evie wondered if she’d had a muscle spasm or something.

  “Your house isn’t very far from here, right?” Gen said, a persuasive note to her voice. “We would be happy to wait here while you go get it.”

  Sawyer shook his head, his cheerful blue eyes suddenly rueful. Poor guy. Until Gen mellowed out a little and learned not to take life—and what she wanted out of it—so seriously, she was going to lead him on quite a wild ride.

  “I’m afraid I can’t leave the store right now,” Claire said in that endlessly calm voice. “Evie and Taryn are here to take Katherine to a special birthday lunch.”

  “Happy birthday,” Sawyer said, beaming at the older woman.

  Evie, Katherine and Claire all gazed at that spectacular smile, hypnotized. Eventually Claire shook her head a little as if to clear it. “Yes, well, I need to stay here to help my customers and then I’m leaving town for a couple of days.”

  “But Sawyer is only going to be in town until Saturday!”

  “No worries.” Sawyer gave them all that charming smile again and even Katherine seemed to go all gooey. With that smile and those good looks, he only needed half a brain—if that—to be a very popular politician, Evie suspected.

  “I’ll be back in a few weeks,” he went on. “By then maybe the dress will be done and I’ll have the chance to see the fini
shed product.”

  “But it’s almost done now,” Genevieve insisted. If she had her way, Evie imagined she would insist Claire close the store for an hour simply to run home on Gen’s whim.

  “I don’t mind waiting to see it. Thank you, anyway,” he said. He smiled at all of them and even winked at Taryn, which rather endeared him to Evie. “Come on, darling. We’ve got lunch reservations at Le Passe Montagne.”

  “That’s one of my son’s restaurants,” Katherine said. “Make sure you leave room for their crème brûlée. It’s divine.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll be sure to do that.” He gave them all another of those killer smiles, tucked Gen’s arm into the crook of his elbow and led her out of the store.

  “Wow.” Katherine blinked. “Okay, I finally get why Genevieve is a little anxious to make it official.”

  “He’s cute,” Taryn said.

  “Maybe we should go to Le Passe instead so we can all gawk at him over our crème brûlée,” Evie said.

  Katherine laughed. “I’m perfectly content with the café. All that sugar hurts your teeth after a while. And the crème brûlée’s not that great for you either.”

  Evie and Claire both laughed, though Taryn still looked confused.

  “Thanks again, Claire,” Katherine said. “Would you like us to bring something back for you?”

  “You know I love their chicken salad sandwiches. That would be just the thing today.”

  “I’ll have Dermot wrap one up for you,” Katherine said. “Shall we?”

  * * *

  PEOPLE WERE STARING.

  The café in town used to be her favorite place in town to eat, except Le Passe and the steakhouse her father owned up at the resort. The food was good and cheap at the café and her friends liked to come here together and hang.

  Now everything was different.

  Taryn slumped in the wheelchair, her chin on her chest. She wanted to go home, where people weren’t looking at her as if they were waiting for her to dribble food down her chin or something.

  She should have tried to walk in, but since she looked like Bride of Frankenstein when she walked, they would only stare more.

  They hadn’t even gone to a table yet. The café was busy and the sign said Wait to Be Seated, which meant everybody could stare and stare.

  She wanted to go home, but she couldn’t. It was her grandma’s birthday. She could take the stares for her grandmother.

  “Look at this! Three of my favorite girls!” Mr. Caine, owner of the café, beamed at them. Mr. Caine was nice. He had white hair and blue eyes and smiled as much as her grandma did. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you all here at once?”

  “It’s Katherine’s birthday and we’re celebrating with her,” Evie said.

  “Wonderful!” Mr. Caine grabbed her grandma’s hands, which looked tiny and white in his bigger ones. Grandma turned a little pink. “I just took out a fresh blackberry pie. I’ll save three slices all around for you. My gift to the birthday girl. What do you say?”

  “Sounds perfect,” Evie said. “Dermot, it looks like the back section is closed. Any chance you could make an exception and seat us back there, away from the crowd a little?”

  Evie was asking because of her, Taryn thought. She should be embarrassed but she was happy when Mr. Caine beamed at them, cheery and nice. “Of course. Of course! That’s our special reserved birthday section, just for my three favorite ladies. Come right this way.”

  Grandma led the way and Evie pushed Taryn behind them. The other area was around a corner from the rest of the café and Taryn relaxed a little. It was quiet here and cool. Best of all, no one else was around to stare.

  “This is perfect,” Evie said. “Thank you, Mr. Caine.”

  Mr. Caine handed them a menu. “I’ll tell you a little secret. The turkey wraps are especially good today. I added a secret ingredient.” He winked at Taryn. “Lemon dill from my own garden. But whatever you pick, I’ll make it perfect for you.”

  Before he left, he picked up Grandma’s hand. “And a very happy birthday to you, Katherine m’dear,” he said, his voice more Irish than usual. Taryn’s eyes widened when he kissed the back of her grandmother’s hand.

  Evie raised her eyebrows after he walked away. “I had no idea Dermot could be so…charming.”

  “Oh, hush,” Grandma said, but she looked pink and Taryn saw her looking at where Mr. Caine had gone. Grandma and Mr. Caine? Too weird. Almost as weird as when she’d looked in the kitchen window that morning and seen her dad hugging Evie.

  She still didn’t know what to think about that. She liked Evie—most of the time, anyway. But her dad hadn’t dated anybody since, well, since she could remember. Maybe they weren’t really dating. Maybe they were just friends. She hugged her friends. Or she used to, anyway.

  “Oh, look.” Evie’s voice was excited. “Maura and Sage.”

  Through the window, Taryn saw them walk into the diner, and her stomach started to hurt.

  Her grandmother’s eyes lit up. “Ask them to join us! We can make room.”

  Fear and guilt were twisting snakes inside her. She didn’t want them to sit here. Layla’s mother and sister. She couldn’t look at them.

  They must hate her. Layla was dead and it was her fault. Layla hadn’t even wanted to go that night but Taryn had talked her into it.

  And then the rest.

  Everything was because of her.

  She shifted in her chair, wishing so much she could get up and run out of the café without falling over.

  “Are you all right?” Evie asked quietly.

  “Tired,” she said, a lie.

  “Do you want to go home?” Evie asked, her eyes concerned.

  If she moaned enough, Evie would take her back to the house. She could, but it wasn’t really fair. They were here for Grandma’s birthday. She couldn’t be a big baby and ruin everything.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Okay. You just let me know if you’re worn out.”

  Mostly she was tired in her head. It hurt to think sometimes. She was getting better. Every day, her mind seemed less cloudy and confused. Some of it was taking less medicine, she knew. Some was her healing. She worked hard when Charlie was there but maybe she should stop trying.

  She didn’t deserve to get better. Not when Layla was dead because of her.

  * * *

  “SO WHO’S WATCHING the bookstore so you could escape for lunch together?” Evie asked as, to her surprise and delight, Maura McKnight-Parker and her daughter Sage pulled a couple of chairs over from a nearby table and squeezed in around their table.

  She had been sure Maura would refuse to join them, especially after she saw Taryn there, but after a moment she seemed to collect herself and accepted the invitation. Still, Evie knew it couldn’t be easy for her. Where Genevieve might see the girl as a potential embarrassment, to Maura, Evie guessed that Taryn’s presence—her very survival—would be a stark reminder of all she had lost.

  Great waves of pain seemed to radiate off Maura, and Evie wanted to reach across the table and squeeze her fingers, to whisper that she understood but she hadn’t told any of her friends about Cassie. When she had first come to Hope’s Crossing, the pain had seemed too raw to talk about with anyone else. Katherine knew and that had seemed enough. Later, the moment never seemed right. It wasn’t something she could just blurt out in conversation. Oh, by the way, I adopted a daughter with disabilities and loved her for two years before she died. So silly I never mentioned it before.

  So why, when she had held Cassie’s memory so close to her, had she told Brodie? She didn’t quite know the answer to that herself.

  “Ruth is working for us this afternoon,” Sage answered when Maura didn’t respond. Maura’s older daughter smiled, looking almost fey with her curly brown hair and the big, long-lashed green eyes that marked her as a McKnight. “She’s been such a lifesaver this summer.”

  “Who ever would have guessed it?” Katherine murmured. �
�I think it’s wonderful Ruth enjoys working at the bookstore so much.”

  Ruth Tatum was Claire’s mother, a difficult woman who, until a few months ago, had seemed discontent with life, complaining and finding fault and basically doing her best to infect everyone around her with her own unhappiness.

  That snowy April night had changed many lives in unexpected ways, Evie thought. Ruth had stepped in to help a grieving and lost Maura at Dog-Eared Books & Brew—and apparently was thriving there.

  “She seems like a different person when she comes into the bead store these days,” Evie said. She found it endlessly fascinating to watch people remake their lives, adapting and adjusting to new circumstances. Ruth was the perfect example.

  “She hasn’t changed completely.” Maura’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes but at least it wasn’t despair. “This morning I heard her answer a customer’s question by saying that since Ruth had never met his mother, she had no idea whatsoever whether she would like the thirty-dollar coffee-table book he was considering buying. I had to pull her aside and gently remind her that when a customer asked whether his mother/sister/wife would like a book, the answer was always yes.”

  Katherine, Sage and Evie laughed. Maura smiled that not-quite smile again, but Taryn still seemed upset and distracted.

  “So when does school start, my dear?” Katherine asked Sage.

  The girl gave her mother a quick look. “I’m thinking about taking another semester off.”

  “No, you’re not,” Maura said. The determined glint in her eyes crowded out the pain there for a moment. “We’ve talked about this. You’re going back to school.”

  “I plan to.” Sage looked just as determined. “But I think it would be better if I stick around this semester and start up again in January.”

  “And do what? Make lattes? I can hire people to do that. You need to go back to school.”

  “I will, when things are more settled here.”

  “Things here are fine,” Maura retorted. Evie had the impression this wasn’t the first time these two had had this particular argument. “Between Ruth and me, we’ve got Dog-Eared covered. Your place is at school.”