Panicked at what’s going through his mind and what stories he’s believing, I run back to his cabin.
When I open the door, I find Jay standing over my things.
“We should talk,” he says, his eyes cold and his jaw locked.
He knows. Or thinks he does.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jay
Needing to clear my head and quiet my emotions, I take a walk after Guy shows me the articles about Olive.
I scroll through the memories of our conversations, looking for the clues I missed. She never used any first or last names when talking about her family. Then again, neither did I.
Her grandfather is retired. True. He lives on acreage in California with cows—more like a large ranch, but still true. He supports the national parks—also true, but not through donating money. He created thirty-four new monuments and protected over half a billion acres, more than even Roosevelt.
Theodore Perry did more for land conservation than anyone since Wilson created the national park system. He’s a hero among Park Service employees.
Olive never mentioned any of it to me. Rationally, I know I shouldn’t feel betrayed. We barely know each other, having only spent half a week in each other’s company. For all intents and purposes, we’re strangers. Casual acquaintances at best.
How does someone casually disclose their family connections?
I never told her about how my mom’s father, the CEO of a Japanese car maker, disowned her when she fell in love with my father. How she gave up her trust fund to move to America and build a life with him. Seems we both kept some family secrets to ourselves.
Once I’m calm again, I walk back to my cabin.
Olive isn’t there, and my first thought is she’s already left the park without saying goodbye.
I notice her pack and the small pile of her belongings on the floor. Reassured she wouldn’t leave those behind, I study the contents.
A red jewelry box from Cartier draws my attention. I’ve never seen it before. Then I remember how protective Olive has been about her bag.
Why would she still have the ring if she’s not engaged?
I’m only standing there for a minute or two before she comes flying through the door like she’s being chased by a bear.
“We should talk.” I can barely get the words out.
“I know,” she says, breathless. Beautiful.
“You’re Olive Perry. Your grandfather with the cows on some acreage is a former president.”
“Both true.” Her eyes are wary, nervous. “Jay, whatever you think you know, I can explain.”
Having trouble meeting her stare, I drop my gaze to the floor. “How about the ring?”
Tossing her clean laundry on the floor, she picks up the box and places it into my hand. “Open it,” she commands. “I have nothing to hide.”
Inside, nestled on white fabric is the largest diamond I’ve ever seen in person.
“Is this real?” My eyes snap to her face.
She nods. “Of course.”
“And you’ve had it with you the whole time?” My stomach sours at the idea of her truly being engaged to another man.
“Since Massachusetts, yes.”
“This has to be worth a fortune.”
“Depends on the fortune, I guess.”
“More than I make in a year?” I cringe at the question. We both know it is. NPS employees don’t do these jobs for the money.
With a sad smile, she bobs her head yes.
I study the facets of the sparkling rock, thinking about how nature is simultaneously incredible and cruel.
“The size of the ring means nothing to me. It never has.” Emotion clogs her voice. “Love shouldn’t be correlated with carat size. True love can’t be bought.”
“Why do you still have his ring?” I close the box and hand it back to her. “I thought he dumped you.”
She exhales. “He did, after he proposed and I said no. He left before I could give it back. I’ve been stuck with it.”
“Why not mail it back to him?”
“Would you trust the post office to not lose it?” She cocks her head.
“Probably not. Why didn’t you tell me back at the cabin?”
“The first night? Because you were a stranger and my entire life I’ve been raised to keep secrets. I didn’t lie to you. My relationship with Tye was over months before we met.”
“According to the media, it isn’t.”
She flinches. When she stares up at me, her expression is defeated.
“Really? You’re going to believe them over me? They don’t have the whole story. Everything they know is based off of a few pictures on Tye’s social media feed and an unfortunate live video.”
“So you’re not engaged anymore?” My voice sounds foreign to my ears, disconnected and weary.
She flings her arms out in exasperation. “Tye and I were never engaged. Aren’t you listening? I never accepted. I’ll make him issue a statement, a retraction.”
This should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.
“And the other ones?” I ask.
Her lips pull into a pout. “What are you referring to?”
“The other times you did say yes. How many were there? Four?” My tone is cruel and full of hurt.
She grimaces. “Five.”
I lock my jaw, grinding my teeth together to the point a muscle ticks in my cheek. “I see.”
“You don’t,” she argues, but there’s no fight left in her voice.
“No, I think I do—clearly for the first time.”
With a sigh, her shoulders slump. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you I was young and under a lot of pressure to settle down, to make a good match. I never went through with a single wedding. Didn’t even come close.”
“Did you love them all?” I hate that I care.
“At the time, I thought I did. Now, I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love with anyone. Until recently.” Her eyes are full of unspoken words.
My frown deepens. “What changed your mind?”
“You.”
“Don’t.” I cross to the other side of the room. “This is crazy.”
We haven’t known each other long enough to have genuine feelings. There’s no such thing as insta-love.
Her eyes water and her smile barely curves. “It’s true. Even if we never see each other again, I’m different because of you.”
“You’re confusing bonding over trauma with other emotions.” I dismiss her confession because I’m not willing to admit the same is true for me.
“Okay, you’re right.” She sighs again, resigned. “I’m not emotionally aware enough to know myself and what I feel. Thank you for explaining it to me so clearly.”
Did she … did she just accuse me of mansplaining?
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right. We don’t know each other at all.” She kneels on the floor and quickly stuffs her belongings inside her pack.
I scrub my hands over my face. “Olive, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”
“Don’t.” She holds up her hand to stop me. “You didn’t do anything. I have a problem with falling in love. Can’t seem to help myself.”
Standing, she straps her pack on before glancing back at me over her shoulder. “Bye, Jay.”
Rationally, the right thing to do is let her go. We come from two different worlds and have nothing in common. She’s a serial monogamist with commitment issues. I’m a loner with trust issues.
We could never work.
This is for the best.
Yet I know when I look back at this moment, I’ll regret watching her walk out my door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Olive
If you scream your lungs out in frustration and no one is around to hear you, does it matter?
I’m not mad about Jay’s hesitation to believe me. When it comes to love, I’ve proven myself to be fickle. My heart is undepe
ndable.
The only person to blame is me, the old Olive, who always said yes even when she meant no.
There are too many people around for me to release the primal scream I want to unleash. Instead, I stomp across the campground.
It isn’t nearly as satisfying.
My mission is to find some hiker trash and set up camp with them. Or better yet, convince someone to hit the trail today. Sun’s been out for hours. Snow’s melting. We can traverse any blocks or slides we encounter.
Because we are AT thru-hikers. Hear us roar.
I’m smart enough to know I shouldn’t head out on my own. The last thing I want is a nice ranger being forced to bring me back here.
My bag begins ringing when I’m halfway down the main road. Weird. I don’t remember turning it on today. Or turning it off after sending the selfie to Campbell.
The sound of my old ringtone is unfamiliar to my ears after months of not hearing it.
Deciding if I ignore it, it will go away, I keep walking.
And the phone continues ringing.
“Fine,” I shout to the sky, the only witness to my frustration.
My mother is calling me.
Perfect timing.
“Hi, Mom.” I do my best to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
“Olive, do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” She doesn’t give me the same courtesy. Annoyance bleeds into her words.
Excellent. Who else can I disappoint today?
“We’ve tried to tolerate your whims and fancies, your need to always be different, but this is unacceptable. For weeks, no one has known where you were or how to contact you. You may be able to run away from your romantic obligations, but—”
I cut her off. “Is there a point to your call? Because I’m very aware of all of my failings and really don’t need the reminder today. I’ve been updating Campbell every time I’ve had service.”
“I’m well aware. That’s how we tracked you to Tennessee.”
Our conversation from months ago comes back to mind. The subtle methods my family uses to maintain knowledge about my life without direct contact.
She sighs. “I know the two of you were close when you were little. This will be difficult for you to hear, but it should come from me before you pick up a newspaper or see it on television.”
I’m about to tell her I haven’t done either since June when the meaning of her words hit me.
“What’s happened to Grandfather? I spoke to him not long ago.” I try to remember when I last called him. The hotel in Damascus. A week? Ten days? The conversation was short and he sounded tired, but he laughed when I rambled about my adventures.
“As you know, he never fully recovered from the stroke last year and has been slowly declining ever since.” I hate how disconnected she sounds.
“Did …” I gulp air. “Did he die?”
“No, but hospice doesn’t think he has much time left.”
“I need to see him. I need to say goodbye.” I start running but then stop when I realize I can’t run all the way to California.
“Exactly why I’ve been calling. You have a ticket waiting for you in Knoxville. A car is on the way to pick you up.” There’s rustling and muffled conversation in the background. “Sorry. Where was I? Right. The car should arrive at the Cades Cove ranger station at eleven-thirty. Can you be there or do we need to make other arrangements?”
“How do you know where I am?” I spin around.
“We tracked your phone. At least we didn’t have to send out a search party.”
Checking the time on my screen, I see I have ten minutes before my ride will arrive. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. We’ll see you in California. Be safe.”
She ends the call.
“Love you, too.” Tears fill my eyes.
Adjusting my pack, I quickly follow the signs to the station. The walk only takes me five minutes, so I linger across the road outside the store, hoping to avoid running into Jay.
A black Tahoe with tinted windows winds its way down the drive, slowing as it approaches me. I hold up my arm so the driver knows I’m here.
“Olive!” Jay’s voice calls from the entrance to the station.
Our eyes meet briefly and I give him a small, sad wave.
He doesn’t walk toward me, but his eyes search mine.
The SUV passes me, blocking my view for a few seconds. The driver gestures to let me know he’s going to turn around.
My eyes seek Jay again.
He’s still standing by the door, watching me.
I don’t know whether to apologize again or tell him I love him. Neither would make a difference.
Checking for traffic, he jogs over to me.
“Olive? Are you okay? You just left, and I should’ve followed you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” He stuffs his hands in his front pockets.
The Tahoe pulls up behind him, and he glances over his shoulder as a man in a classic security guard dark suit hops out and opens the rear passenger door.
“What’s going on?” His eyes search mine.
“I have to go.” Hot tears burn my eyes. Without asking permission, I invade his personal space one last time to hug him. I don’t even care if he hugs me back.
When his arms wrap around my shoulders and he tucks me close to his chest, the dam threatens to break. I cannot cry in front of him.
Wiggling out of his embrace, I stare at his boots for a second.
He gently lifts my chin with his finger. Confusion, sadness, and another emotion swirl in his beautiful green eyes.
“Ready, Miss Perry? We need to get on the road or you’ll miss your flight.” The security guard stands awkwardly a few feet away. “I can take your bag.”
Jay’s attention swings between the man and me. “You’re leaving? You’re not going to complete the AT? How can you quit now when you’re so close?”
“Goodbye, Ranger Daniels. Thanks again for all of your help.” I extend my hand.
Reluctantly, he shakes it. “Always happy to be of service.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
All I know is my heart is breaking and I’m leaving part of it behind with him.
Left, right, left. Repeat.
One step leads to another as I walk to the open passenger door.
I refuse to look at Jay again.
“Watch your head,” Mr. Security instructs me.
His warning only adds to the feeling of being arrested and detained against my will.
I wish I had time to explain everything to Jay. How my grandfather is dying and I’m filled with guilt over not being in better touch with him. How no one can know because then the media will start the death watch and our private grief will become national mourning.
I’d try to get him to see how an omission isn’t always a lie. How who I’m related to doesn’t change the time we spent together. How I’m not the same person I used to be and I’m not sure I ever want to go back to being her.
Instead, I close my eyes and rest my head against the seat, unwilling to watch the park disappear behind me as the Tahoe drives away.
I must fall asleep because the security guard is standing by my open door, his hand gentle on my shoulder.
Blinking away the fog of my nap, I remember who he is and why I’m in the backseat. “Are we here?”
“We’re in Knoxville, ma’am.” His warm brown eyes are friendly. “You’ll be catching a flight from here to Los Angeles then you’ll have a short layover before your flight to San Luis Obispo. Your parents will meet you there.”
“Are they flying commercial, too?” I ask, still obviously confused.
“No, ma’am. They are scheduled to take off from Teterboro around the same time as you.”
“So in theory, they could swing by and pick me up?”
“I don’t know anything about their arrangements, ma—”
I interrupt him. “Please stop calling me ma’am. I
’m younger than you are.”
“Sorry, m— Miss Perry.”
“Better, but you can call me Olive. It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand.
“Kade. Like Cades Cove with a K instead of a C.” He wraps his dark fingers around mine. “Nice to meet you as well.”
“Kade,” I repeat. “Thank you for helping out today.”
“It’s my honor. I served in the Marines when your grandfather was president. He is a great man.” He straightens and gives me the smallest of salutes.
A gesture of respect from a stranger shouldn’t make me cry, but the tears spill down my cheeks. “Thank you for your service.”
The driver steps into view behind Kade. “I have your bag. An agent is meeting us and will escort you to your gate.”
Wiping my cheeks, I exhale a shaky breath. “I must be an absolute mess.”
Kade gives me a sympathetic smile. “You look fine, Miss Perry. There’s a box of tissues on the floor, if you need one. Or take the entire thing.”
“I wish I had sunglasses.” I hold my thumb to the corner of my eye, hoping the tears will abate.
“You can have mine, ma—, Miss Perry.” He reaches into his chest pocket and hands me a pair of Ray-Ban aviators.
“I can’t take your glasses.” I wave him off.
“You can if I offer.”
“Give me your card. I promise to send them back to you.”
He hands me the slip of paper and the sunglasses.
“Thank you,” I tell him softly.
Hiding behind the dark lenses feels safer, less exposed. I step out of the SUV and plant my feet on the ground. My battered backpack rests against the wheel, looking shabby and sad like the rest of my appearance. With worn shoes, a stained puffy jacket, and grubby socks, I don’t fit in with the rest of the people at the airport.
I should’ve made them stop so I could buy new clothes, something appropriate for the granddaughter of a president. Making sure my hair is tucked under my black beanie, I run a hand over my braid.
A friendly but stern-looking woman in a blue skirt suit approaches us. With a smile, she introduces herself. “I’m Letitia Ramirez and I’ll be your VIP agent today. Do you have all of your luggage?”
Happy Trail (Park Ranger Book 1) Page 18
