When she was running the camp, it was easy to forget her reputation. It was easy to put on the baggy, stained jeans and shapeless T-shirts that acted as both her uniform and her armor. No one cared who she’d been before or what they thought they knew about her.
“Why do you even care?” she all but hissed at him.
“I don’t. Grace does.”
“It’s so simple for you.”
“Nothing about this is simple for me,” he corrected. “But I know what’s right.”
Must be nice, she thought, to have an internal compass that pointed you to right and wrong in black and white without all the confusing shades of gray. Her life was nothing but gray and she rarely trusted her gut without hours of second-guessing.
But despite their strange relationship, she trusted Trevor and she wanted to earn the same faith from him. Faith that she wouldn’t fail Grace the way she had Bryce.
“Ok,” she whispered then cleared her throat. “Let’s go.”
He gave her an approving nod, and it felt like she’d earned her own version of a camp patch for bravery.
As they walked into the school’s auditorium, she felt the weight of people watching her and, out of the corner of her eye, saw a few heads come together for furtive whispers. She hated her reputation and the choices she’d made when she was young and so damn insecure about her own self-worth. Normally she’d slap her world-weary mask back into place. She was an expert at pretending like the opinions of the people around her didn’t matter. At least until she’d met Kendall and Chloe.
Her friendship with them had pulled her into living in a way she wasn’t used to. They expected more from her, and she knew that being a part of Grace’s life would test her even more. She desperately did not want to fail.
Trevor waved to a few people and led her to a seat at the edge of one of the aisles of folding chairs. “You look like you’re sucking on a rotten egg,” he said as they sat.
“Sorry. I have horrible resting bitch face,” she muttered.
He grinned. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It’s a thing. A bad one.”
“Relax, Sam. You belong here,” he whispered. “As much as anyone else.”
Strange the comfort she took in those words coming from the man who’d made sure this was the first school performance she’d had an opportunity to see. But he was right. She was here now.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said a silent prayer to her twin. We both made mistakes, Bryce. But I want to fix them. I want to be a part of Grace’s life because she’s a part of both of us. Help me out, ok? Just this once.
It had been years since she’d had a conversation in her head with her sister. After Bryce’s death, Sam had mourned the invisible connection they had as twins as much as she grieved her sister’s passing. Talking to Bryce in her head had become a comfort and a curse. It felt like she was never alone, but the moments when she heard Bryce’s voice the clearest were the times when Sam was making the worst choices.
Now she waited for a sign or a whisper of awareness—the shiver across the back of her neck, like she saw on cheesy made-for-TV movies. She got nothing. Wasn’t that just like Bryce?
Sam was on her own here to deal with preconceived judgments from a crowd of people who knew nothing about her. It’s how life had always felt. Even before her looks set her apart, her place on the outside had been set in stone. The result of her boozy, loud, argumentative mother. Lorna Carlton had craved being the center of attention, and whether it was in a bar on Friday night or at back-to-school night with her girls in tow, she’d expected all eyes on her.
Sam wanted to blend in, which made becoming famous for her face ironic. It’s also why she’d been able to walk away at the height of her career. She might have cultivated the reputation as a wild and crazy diva, but she’d never craved attention the way her mother had.
It didn’t make this moment any easier. She would have given up all that success for a normal life. To be just another proud relative watching her niece play the clarinet.
“Stop fidgeting,” Trevor said softly.
“I can feel everyone staring at me,” she said, glancing at him.
He looked truly confused. “Shouldn’t you be used to that?”
“This is about Grace,” she told him. “I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to steal the spotlight.”
“She wants you here,” he reminded her. “And Grace isn’t your sister or your mother. While it kills me to admit it, she’s fascinated by who you were as a model. She’s over-the-moon excited to parade you in front of her classmates. You’re famous and you belong to her.”
You belong to her.
Those four words made tears clog Sam’s throat. She hadn’t belonged to anyone since Bryce. The bond between them had been so complicated and twisted she’d forgotten how special it was to have that connection with another person.
She blew out a breath as the junior high band conductor took the stage.
“That’s better,” Trevor whispered, and placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. “We’ve got this.”
The students filed on stage and cameras began to click in the audience. As Grace took her place, she flashed a grin and waved to Trevor and Sam.
“We’ve got this,” Sam repeated, and placed her hand over Trevor’s. His fingers linked with hers, and she smiled as she listened to the first strains of a familiar march.
The band played for close to an hour. The people around them grew restless, a few of them checking phones or whispering with a neighbor. Sam’s attention was held rapt. There was so much joy as the kids played—and occasionally butchered—a string of famous songs.
“I need to order instruments for the camp,” she told Trevor as the audience applauded and the musicians took their bows. “Hire a music teacher. That was amazing.”
He studied her for a moment. “You were impressed by an eighth grade band concert?”
“We didn’t even have a high school band. A lot of my kids are just like we were; they have no exposure to music or art.”
“We had football.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a laugh. “Despite the fact that the school district in Colby, Oklahoma, had no money, we managed to fund a team good enough to vie for the state championship all the years I can remember.” They filed out of the aisle. “You were the team’s star running back. Whatever happened to your football career?”
“Grace happened,” he said simply.
Sam stopped then stumbled forward as the man behind her bumped into her back. She grabbed Trevor’s arm, pulling him to the edge of the auditorium, out of the stream of family members heading to the post-concert reception.
“What does that mean?” she hissed.
He flashed her a bland smile but she could see a muscle ticking at the side of his jaw. “What do you think it means? I was trying to get my grades up at the community college so I could transfer to OU and play ball when I found out Bryce was pregnant.”
“You dropped out of school,” she whispered.
“There weren’t any other options.” He ran a hand through his hair, looked over her shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is. It changed your whole life.”
“That’s what becoming a parent does.”
“Not for Bryce,” she said, her voice catching. “Not for my mom. She kept living her life like we weren’t even there. But you—”
“Don’t make it into something it wasn’t, Sam.” Trevor’s voice was tight. “I left college to raise my daughter. It happens.”
“If I would have known . . .”
“You didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” she repeated. Because he hadn’t wanted her to know. Her sister hadn’t wanted her to know. Every time she thought she was over the pain of that secret, it raised a hand to slap her down again. He hadn’t told her and if Grace hadn’t come looking for a mother, Sam still wouldn’t be a part of the girl’s life. Of Trevor�
�s life.
She glanced around at the empty auditorium. “We should join the other families.” Before he answered, she was walking toward the exit. Walking away was easier than allowing him to see how much he could still hurt her.
Trevor was trying to extricate himself from another gaggle of curious mothers as he searched for Sam and Grace in the crowd of students and family members at the reception. While he and Sam had walked in together, the distance between them was like an invisible wall he wasn’t sure how to scale. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to because what was on the other side left him feeling out of control. Trevor needed control. It was the only thing that he could depend on in life.
Thankfully, Grace hadn’t noticed the tension. She’d been too excited about plastering herself to Sam’s side and introducing her aunt to her friends. The teens were far more welcoming than their parents—at least the moms. The men in the room could hardly keep their eyes off Sam, a fact she seemed not to notice but had his blood roaring in his ears.
He’d seen the women grouped together, heads bent, whispering among themselves as they pretended to rearrange plates of cookies and refill the punch bowl. He would have liked to believe Sam didn’t notice their attention, either, but her smile had been tight as Grace led her through the room. He knew she wasn’t as unaffected by the silent judgment as she pretended to be.
Again with the gooey center.
It had only taken a few minutes for several of the bolder moms to corner him for details about his connection to her. He’d noticed a couple of men huddled together staring at their phones and guessed they were busy searching for images of Sam in various states of undress.
More blood roaring.
It was stupid to feel sorry for her. She’d chosen not only her career, but also the image she’d cultivated during her modeling years. Even he’d believed she’d become no more than the vapid woman from the glossy magazine spreads who cared about her fame and where she could find the next party.
Now he knew the reputation she’d developed was a complete contrast to who she’d become. He tried to tamp down the urge to make others understand the truth of who she was on the inside. Sam Carlton was not his responsibility.
As he’d explained her relationship to his daughter with the moms, the worry swirling around his gut for the past two weeks rose into a wave of panic that almost slammed him to the ground. Grace looked so much like Sam—like Bryce. He understood it was only a matter of time before she made choices for herself. What if he couldn’t keep her safe?
He hoped he’d given her the foundation she’d need to make the right choices, but many of his decisions had been made out of fear. The biggest one had been keeping Sam out of her life. In doing so, he’d made Sam into someone who was bigger than life for Grace. A star instead of a real person.
As the women surrounding him gently chided and made unwanted suggestions about how to rid himself of the plague of Sam’s influence, he understood their prejudice was as unfounded as his had been.
“She runs a summer camp for disadvantaged kids,” he said tightly to the ringleader of the moms. PTO president and cookie baker extraordinaire, this woman had seemed friendly to him when he first arrived in Colorado. Now her kindness felt supercilious.
“Yes, well . . .” the woman murmured gently, her tone so sweet it made his teeth ache. “I understand she funds the camp, but I’m not sure I approve of introducing those types of children to our community. It’s easy for her because she lives in Denver. But we could pay the price . . .” Her voice trailed off and she lifted her brow as if to communicate something she wasn’t willing to say out loud.
“What price?”
“We don’t know the history of the kids, only that they come from questionable backgrounds. Do you really think it’s a good idea to have them near our children?”
He bit back a growl. “They’re at a summer camp, not a training facility for future criminals. They earn a spot at Bryce Hollow and the point is to help them see a way out of the difficulties in their lives.”
Another woman, a plump blond, leaned forward. “I heard she’s going to sell the place anyway. The land itself is worth a ton of money.”
“She’s not selling,” Trevor said through clenched teeth, although he didn’t know that as fact.
PTO mom sniffed. “As long as she keeps those kids on her property and out of our community.” As if realizing the bite of her words, she flashed a smile. “I’m sure you’re keeping an eye on her, and we have faith in your instincts.”
His instincts obviously sucked, because up until a few minutes ago he would have trusted these women with his daughter. A group of judgmental, petty shrews.
“Who knows,” she continued, nodding toward the corner of the room, “what kind of trouble she might bring into your life otherwise.
He followed her gaze to see Sam and Grace talking with the junior high band teacher, Josh Madsen. Trevor had met him only once, a man in his late twenties, tall and unassuming, who also coached cross-country for the school and headed the mountain bike club.
He made his way to his daughter’s side, the school moms’ vicious whispers swirling in his head. “Grace, your friends are looking for you over by the cookie table.”
She gave him a curious smile and nodded toward a group of kids standing directly behind the band teacher. “They’re standing right there,” she said, as if he was blind and stupid.
Neither Sam nor Mr. Madsen acknowledged that he’d joined their cozy circle, a fact he found disturbingly irritating.
“Other friends,” he told his daughter.
“What friends?”
“Grace, just get some cookies, ok?”
Her eyes widened before narrowing. Sam smiled at the band teacher and then gave Trevor a questioning look out of the corner of her eye. Josh Madsen continued to stare at her, an awestruck look on his face that Trevor recognized from how he felt when Sam’s attention was on him.
“Fine,” Grace said on a huff of breath. “Whatever.”
She moved away to join her friends, and they disappeared into the crowd, presumably heading for the refreshment table.
“Good cookies, huh?” Sam asked, her grin widening.
“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered.
Her smile disappeared and she bit down on her full lower lip before turning back to the band teacher. “Josh, do you know Grace’s dad, Trevor?”
“We met at back-to-school night,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m really glad Grace decided to stick with clarinet this year. She’s doing fantastic.”
When Trevor didn’t take his hand, Josh jammed it into his pocket.
“Grace’s aunt and I were talking about the importance of music education for teens,” he said.
Trevor snorted. “I just bet you were.”
He felt Sam stiffen next to him and realized he was making a fool of himself but couldn’t manage to stop.
She shifted so that she faced Josh with her back to Trevor. “Thanks again for answering my questions. I don’t want to monopolize your time.”
“It’s no problem,” Josh offered.
“None at all,” Trevor whispered under his breath.
“I’ll call you next week,” Sam continued, even though Trevor knew she’d heard him. “It would be great if you could find time to stop by camp and check out what we’ve got going on.”
“Happy to do it,” the man answered. Sam glanced over her shoulder at Trevor. “I really do enjoy having Grace in band,” Josh said, then turned and was immediately engaged in conversation with another family.
“More like happy to do you,” Trevor said as Sam whirled to face him.
Color bloomed on her cheeks. “Excuse me?”
“Is this your big plan to get popular with the moms at school?” he asked, taking a small step toward her so that no one around them could overhear the conversation. “Make a date with the band teacher?”
A sliver of pain flashed in her eyes before she hid it. Trevor had
the sudden understanding that he might be both blind and stupid.
“I asked him for advice on starting a music program at Bryce Hollow,” she said, her voice so low he had to lean in to hear it.
“You should think of how that looks to people.” Shut up, he told himself. Shut your stupid mouth before you go too far.
“Me speaking to a man?”
“He’s single,” Trevor told her, as if that made a difference.
“I wasn’t offering to have sex with him.”
“Did Josh know that? He was staring at you like that was the only thing on his mind.”
Again the flash of pain in her eyes, this one quickly replaced with anger. “Go to hell.”
He schooled his features so he and Sam wouldn’t draw attention from the families standing nearby. Sam didn’t bother. If looks could kill, he’d be on the ground with his guts spilled around him. Might as well get everything out in the open. “Are you going to sell Bryce Hollow?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes narrowed. “That rumor has been circulating since the day I bought the land. It’s as much bullshit as the idea that I have any interest in the junior high band teacher.”
“Damn it,” he muttered. “I knew it wasn’t true when people told me. But I had to ask. If you got close to Grace and then—”
“I’d like to punch you in the face right now,” she whispered. “Just like you punched Mike Wall. Because you’re no different than him. You may hide it better but at the end of the day, your opinion of me is crystal clear.”
“I don’t think—”
She shook her head. “You’re done talking, Trevor. At least I’m done listening. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life, and I own every one of them. But I can tell you I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
She stalked away, pushing through the crowd until he lost sight of her. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he glanced up to see the PTO posse watching him. The ringleader gave him a small nod and at that moment, Trevor wanted to punch himself in the face.
He followed Sam, expecting to chase her into the parking lot. Instead, she was standing with Grace and several other girls near the trophy case.
Tell Me Again Page 10
