by Carol Ross
“Lydia, what’s going on? Who is this?”
Clive ground out a bitter-sounding laugh. “You really didn’t tell him anything, did you? I wondered. Does he think you’re just some pretty, innocent gal from the city who wants to be a nanny?” He looked at Jon. “She’s playing you, cowboy. Just like she played me. She stole twelve million dollars from me. Do you seriously believe she plans to stick around Podunk, USA, with a farmer like you?”
Jon couldn’t think for the buzzing in his ears. This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Was this the ex she’d alluded to that day they’d went riding? Should he deck the guy? And yet, Lydia was just standing there. Not denying any of it.
“It’s over, Lydia New-bury.” He tossed another disparaging look at Jon. “That’s not even her real name. I’m guessing you didn’t know that, either. It’s Newton. Lydia Newton. It was almost Howard but then she decided to take my money and practically leave me at the altar.” To Lydia he said, “You thought you were so clever with that four-dollar thing, didn’t you? You could have had everything, Lydia. Come with me now and none of your country bumpkin friends get hurt.”
Jon saw Zach, Matt, Tom and JT emerge from the darkness beside the barn. Lydia had been standing with her back to Jon. Now she turned to face him, her eyes were flashing with what looked like fury.
Her voice was calm as she spoke. “You’re right, Clive. It’s over. I knew it couldn’t last. I was just biding my time trying to figure a way out of this. Let’s go.”
“Lydia?” Jon said and then watched helplessly as Clive flashed him a victorious smile. The man stepped next to Lydia and draped an arm over her shoulder to lead her away.
Reaching up with both hands, she grabbed hold of his wrist as if to acquiesce. Jon heard a crunching sound as she gave it a twist. At the same time, she stomped hard on his foot with the spiked heel of her boot. Clive howled with pain and crumpled to the ground.
She leaned over and in a voice rigid with contempt she said, “He’s a rancher, you idiot. Not a farmer.”
Her gaze locked on to Jon and all he could do was stare at her in shock. “Jon... I’m so sorry about all of this. I wish we had more time. I wanted to explain before I had to leave. I’m going to...”
In the distance, the howl of a police siren reverberated through the night. Zach, Matt, Tom and JT descended on them. JT produced a length of bailing twine and proceeded to tie Clive’s wrists behind him.
Tom looked pointedly at Lydia. “Scooter’s got the other guy handcuffed out back. He took a swing at JT. That’s good, because it’ll buy you a little time. But you best scatter before the cops get here and start asking questions.”
Expression resigned, she said, “Thank you, guys.”
Then Jon watched as the woman he loved walked away into the night. Except, he realized, he had no idea who she was. He did know that he couldn’t let her leave. Not like this.
He caught up with her as she was climbing into her SUV and said a silent thank-you for the not-so-stupid boots that had slowed her down and helped save her from that thug.
“Lydia, wait.”
She faced him. He could just make out her features in the glow of the moonlight. The music playing in the barn sounded like it was coming from miles away.
“Jon, I don’t have much time.”
“So, it’s true? That guy is your fiancé? You stole his money and you were hiding out here in Falcon Creek?”
She looked up at the sky for a second before focusing on him. “Yes, it’s...true. Except for the fiancé part. I never intended to marry him. But I—”
“But you never intended to stay here, either, did you? You let me fall in love with you. You did whatever you could to make me fall in love, didn’t you? I said all that stuff to you. You told me you loved me. You said you loved the girls. You told Genevieve and Abigail you weren’t going to quit... And all along you knew you would only be here for a little while?”
“Yes, to most of that,” she whispered. “But—”
“That’s why you wanted to keep the job so much. It didn’t have anything to do with us.” He cursed and took a step back. “I am such a fool.”
“No, Jon, you’re not. It’s way more complicated than that.” Tears sparkled in her eyes, but Jon didn’t care. He was done caring. “Jon, you and the twins—”
“Not from where I’m standing it’s not. From here, it’s not complicated at all.” She’d used him. He felt the heart that she’d so painstakingly and deviously thawed freeze all over again. He could only hope that it would stay that way this time. “Goodbye, Lydia. I’d tell you good luck, but I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got millions of dollars and you are hands down the best liar I have ever met. What more could a woman like you need?”
With those last words, he turned and strode away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
GRIPPING THE STEERING wheel so hard her fingers ached, Lydia drove past Falcon Creek toward the freeway and hoped that all available law enforcement was on their way to the Inez place. She felt nauseated. She wanted to pull over and throw up. She wanted to give up. This was all so pointless. If she couldn’t have Jon and the girls she might as well have nothing. Even if this plan worked and she could get Clive off her back, how could she convince Jon that she really loved him? That she’d never meant for any of this to happen?
She didn’t know the answers, but she did know she had to try. She was through running from her mistakes. Picking up the phone, she dialed Meredith.
Her friend answered tentatively. “Lydia?”
“Yep, it’s me, Meredith.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. For now.”
“Where are you? Did you talk to Tanner?”
“Yes, Tanner called. But Clive got here before I could get away.”
“Oh, no! Where is he?”
“He’s indisposed at the moment. But probably not for long.” She had no idea how much of a head start Scooter, Tom and the others had given her. Or if Clive had people staked out at the airports, gas stations and rest stops, or wherever. Lydia could only hope he’d done something the police could charge him with. “Meredith, I need your help.”
“Of course. Lydia, anything.”
“I don’t have a credit card. I need you to buy me an airplane ticket from Missoula to LaGuardia. It would be even better if you could use Hailey’s credit card or someone who doesn’t have the last name Blumen.”
“I’ll do it right now. But you’re going to New York? Shouldn’t you be heading in the other direction? Or possibly toward Australia or Jupiter even?”
“I’m going to New York City and then I should be back in Philadelphia in two days.” It was the weekend, so she wasn’t sure how long this would take. There was also the possibility that it wouldn’t work at all, at which point she would have to try for Jupiter. “Can I stay with you?”
“Lydia! Yes, of course. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming. I’ll call Tanner when I can. I shouldn’t talk anymore because I don’t have a car charger for this phone. Text me the flight info, okay?”
They exchanged love-yous and goodbyes and Lydia ended the call, silently thanking Tanner for making her put the cash in her jacket. Even though it was only 500 dollars, it should be enough. She wondered if Jon would look through her things and what he’d think when he found the rest of the cash, gift cards and bundle of odds and ends. Her passport was there. She cringed. It would be further evidence of her deception, of her intention to not stick around. Not that it mattered because she wouldn’t contact him right now, anyway. Not until she knew this plan was going to work. Which was a long shot.
And even if by some miracle it did work, she was pretty sure Jon would never want to talk to her again. She knew how bad this looked. How bad it was, really, when you viewed it from his p
erspective. She’d deserved everything he’d said to her. She’d earned his trust—trust that he didn’t give easily, and rightly so. But she’d done it. And then she’d shattered it.
* * *
AT LEAST AVA had been honest about her feelings, Jon thought. She hadn’t wanted to be here, so she’d left. Lydia hadn’t wanted to be here, either, but she’d lied about it. Not only had she lied about it, but she’d also used him and the girls.
The shock had worn off, leaving Jon with a sense of disappointment so intense he could barely speak. Most of it was directed at himself. He should have trusted his instincts that first day and sent her away. He could see now why she’d fought so hard to keep the job. Jon had been her cover. A place to hide. That in itself was dishonest. But she’d made it so much worse. She’d made him fall in love with her. The girls had fallen in love with her. He would survive, but using Abigail and Genevieve the way she had was unforgivable. What was he supposed to tell them?
Zach had brought them back this morning from an overnight stay with his parents. They’d immediately asked where Lydia was. Staring into their innocent, eager faces, Jon was overwhelmed with sadness and frustration. He’d chickened out and told them there’d been an emergency and Lydia had to go back to Philadelphia. He didn’t like lying to them, but he needed time to figure this out, to get his zigzagging emotions under control. Soon after they’d returned, Tom had taken them over to the Blackwell Ranch to visit the pigs and donkeys.
Jon appreciated how Tom, Zach, Matt and Scooter had his back. Even JT had been great. Later, he’d informed Jon that he was a changed man, due in large part to Lydia. Funny, Jon thought bitterly, that the day before Jon would have said the same about himself.
As it turned out, they had Lydia’s back, too. Scooter had placed Clive and Gary in separate sheriff vehicles while the deputies questioned witnesses. JT wanted to press charges against Gary for assault. Scooter radioed Harriet at the sheriff’s department asking her to run every conceivable check on the subjects, which she did. Clive’s turned up a Vermont bench warrant for a traffic citation. Both men were arrested and transported to the county courthouse, where they would wait until court convened on Monday. Scooter said they’d be gone by noon. No one expected to ever see them again.
Zach walked into the living room and handed Jon a cup of coffee. He placed a plate of scrambled eggs on the table and settled on the sofa opposite him. Jon couldn’t eat the eggs. He picked up the coffee and attempted to smile at his friend. Beside him on the sofa, Trout sighed softly and laid his head in Jon’s lap. Jon scratched his ears.
“Thanks, Zach.”
“What are you going to do?”
Jon shrugged. “Not much to do from where I’m sitting.”
“Do you believe what that guy said? Did Lydia steal twelve million dollars?”
“She didn’t deny it. Clearly, she lied about a whole lot of things.”
“She told us that she’s in love with you. Did she tell you?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you in love with her?”
“I thought I was.”
“What do you mean you thought you were? You either are or you’re not.”
“She’s not even who she says she is, Zach. How can I be in love with her? How am I supposed to know what’s true? What I can safely deduce is that she was using the ranch to hide from her thug boyfriend. She used us all. She didn’t really want this job.” Or me, he added silently.
“Hmm.” Zach was quiet for a long time. “Well, all of that might have been true. At first. But from where I’m sitting, it seems to me, if she was planning on leaving anyway, falling in love with her boss would only complicate matters exponentially for her. And if she has twelve million dollars, why didn’t she go to Morocco or Argentina or wherever rich people on the run go?”
Jon had puzzled over that last part himself.
“And I understand that she was trying to keep her job, but did she have to do it so well?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did she have to do all of those things that she did for the girls? Teaching them, sewing their dresses, getting the bunnies, signing them up for 4-H. You told me yourself she went above and beyond every day. Making everyone happy while she made more work for herself.”
Jon stuck with his argument. “She didn’t care about us, Zach, not really, not...in the same way we cared about her. She would have done anything to stay here, to stay hidden.”
“I don’t know, Jon. It seems a little over-the-top, doesn’t it? You said yourself you don’t know how you would have gotten through that interview without her. And, if you think about that, she took a risk even being here with those cameras around. She made friends all over town, doing nice things here and there, things she didn’t have to do knowing she was leaving. And, did she have to take on Marilee like she did? At least ten people heard it. Are those the actions of a woman who doesn’t care?”
* * *
LYDIA DISEMBARKED AT LaGuardia on Sunday afternoon and braced herself to find Clive or one of his goons waiting for her. Afraid to hang out for hours in the airport the night before, she’d spent a cold night in her SUV in the parking lot of a grocery store in Missoula. Shaking with terror, she’d headed to the airport just in time to walk on to her 6:00 a.m. flight.
If they’d somehow gotten to Meredith and figured out where she was going, Lydia’s plan would probably die right along with her. But she knew Clive wouldn’t kill her until he had his money, or at least until he was satisfied that he’d recovered as much of it as possible.
Coast seemingly clear, she stepped outside the terminal and dug the card out of her wallet. She caught a cab to the address listed, which turned out to be a mammoth skyscraper that housed the network’s offices. It was Sunday. Lydia had no idea what she’d do if no one answered. She didn’t want to waste her cash on a hotel room.
With trembling hands, she pulled her phone out and dialed the number.
“Hello?” Bethany Stouffer answered her own phone.
“Bethany? Hi, it’s Lydia Newbury, nanny at the JB Bar Ranch?”
“Lydia! Hi! How are you? The footage of the ranch is glorious. The producers love it all. We’re beyond excited for that segment to air.”
“That’s wonderful news. But actually, Bethany, I’m calling for a different reason. I have another story for you. Different topic entirely. One that you might find rather unbelievable.”
“I’m listening.”
“Have you heard about the anonymous philanthropist in Philadelphia who has been in the news lately?”
“Of course. The person who has been donating money all over the city? At last count the total was over eight million.”
“That’s the one. Soon, it will equal close to twelve and a half million. Did I mention that I’m from Philadelphia?”
Bethany paused. “Lydia, do you know this person?”
“Yes, Bethany, I do. I know him very well.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in New York standing outside your offices. I know it’s Sunday but—”
“Wait there. The building is closed but I’m here. I’ll be right down to let you in.”
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, Jon walked down the sidewalk in Falcon Creek, greeting friends and ignoring curious glances from others. He wouldn’t be in town except for the fact that Abigail and Genevieve had gotten into a patch of poison ivy again. They were almost out of cortisone cream and he needed to get some at South Corner Drug. Grace had called and said the “special” rabbit feed Lydia had ordered was in, so he’d head over to Brewster’s and pick that up, too.
On his knees as he scanned the shelf in the skin care section, he was about ready to give up and ask for help when he located the cream. Shaking his head over the fact that the repackaging phenomenon wasn’t even safe where itch medicine was concerned,
he headed to the pharmacy checkout register and took his place in the short line.
It was located right next to the UPS and FedEx counter. A woman stepped up there and it took him several seconds to recognize Rachel Thompson. Rachel’s parents owned the Double T Ranch. Rachel was an attorney, the only attorney currently practicing in Falcon Creek. She and Ben had gone head to head regarding the water-rights issue and, as with most things Ben tackled, he’d come out on top. Rachel was also Zoe’s best friend. Jon braced himself for a bout of uncomfortable small talk, but maybe she’d heard from Zoe.
Mandy, the woman who worked behind the counter, handed her a thin package. “Here you go, Rachel. Sign here. Like I told you on the phone, there’s no name or return address on it. Who do you think it’s from?”
“I have no idea. Thanks, Mandy.” Rachel picked up a pen and scrawled along the bottom of a sheet of paper. She slid it across the counter and exchanged it for the package. Stepping to one side, she opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. Brow furrowed, she studied the documents before stuffing them back inside.
She spun around, noticed Jon and stopped in her tracks. Even in his own miserable state, he could see that Rachel didn’t look herself. Like Zoe, she’d always been slick and perfectly assembled. Now she looked more like an unmade bed—no makeup, bluish circles under her eyes, hair askew. She had a stain on her jacket.
She startled, then seemed to recover but kept the package clutched to her chest, arms folded tightly across it. “Hello, Jon.”
“How’re you doing, Rachel?”
“Just fine. How are you?”
“Been better.” He held up the tube of medicine. “The twins got into a bit of poison ivy.”
“Yikes. That itches.”
“Yes, it sure does.”
“I’m only familiar with diaper rash at this point.”
Jon recalled hearing that she and her husband, Ted Jackson, had a baby together before they split up. Empathy stirred in him. It also explained her rumpled state. Ted was an alcoholic. Rachel’s father had recently suffered a heart attack. Jon doubted she had much help where the baby was concerned.
