Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

KENNEDY

For a second there, it felt like Rowan was about to kiss me.

For a second there, it felt like I was going to—very enthusiastically—kiss him back.

But the stranger might as well have thrown a snowball, disrupting the weird heat building between us. The interruption reminded me that I’m here in Highland Hills for a purpose, and while that purpose is supposedly to fall in love, I’m definitely not supposed to fall in love with him .

The man’s tall, with hair that falls somewhere in the spectrum between white and blond, and has large blue eyes. He looks a little pale and drawn, as if he’s been pulling too many hours at work.

Rowan turns to him, all prickles again, and I wonder who he’s mad at this time. Himself? Me? This guy?

“Jay,” he says, and I remember his stories about the stepfather who was too good for his mother. It’s a funny twist of fate that he’s here at the same time as us. Then again, Rowan likes this place because Jay used to bring him here, so maybe it’s not that weird after all.

“Haven’t seen you for a while, buddy,” the guy says, coming over and clapping him on the back. “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

I can feel Harry watching us as he and Oliver get the tree situated on top of Oliver’s car. Okay, I’ll be honest, Oliver’s doing most of the work, and Harry’s watching me with a look of concern. He’s probably worried we’ll get caught.

I’m worried we’ll get caught too, but mostly for his sake.

“Yeah,” Rowan says sheepishly. “About that. I’ve been busy.”

Jay nods, as if he’s not surprised to hear it, then says, “It’s too bad Ivy’s not coming home for Christmas.” A corner of his mouth hitches up. “Hard at work on her next book now that Naughty Saint Nick is out. Number five on Amazon, did you see that?”

Rowan smiles back at him. “Yeah, don’t ask me to read it, though. There are some things you don’t want to know about your sisters.”

“I read them all,” Jay says, then frowns, lifting a hand to his left shoulder and wincing, before continuing. “She marks the pages I should skip.”

“Your sister’s a writer?” I ask Rowan, impressed. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Even as I say it, I know there are plenty of answers that fit. Because I don’t know him all that well. Because Tina didn’t tell me, or maybe she doesn’t know. Because it’s none of my business.

“Maybe I was worried you’d use me for autographed copies,” Rowan says. “It’s happened before.”

It’s more of a playful answer than I expected from him. His stepfather must be surprised by it too, because his gaze turns to me with interest. “Who’s this, now?”

“A friend,” Rowan says. He looks at me, and I half hope he’ll put his arm around me again, like he did inside. What does it say about me that I want to be treated like a strumpet?

“I’m Kennedy,” I tell Jay, reaching for a handshake. Rowan scowls at me, and I can definitely feel Harry frowning at me from a distance, but I doubt Rowan’s stepfather is on Nana Mayberry’s speed dial, and he doesn’t strike me as a particularly gossip-hungry man. He’s not going to slap photos of me up on the internet.

“Pleased to meet you, Kennedy,” he says, shaking hands. His face contorts slightly as we shake, and I can’t help but wonder if something’s wrong with his arm. I feel a wash of concern for him. Was he injured? Should he really be picking up an ax right now? I don’t like the idea of him going into the woods by himself if a handshake makes him wince…

“Maybe Rowan should help you with your tree,” I blurt.

Rowan shoots me an accusatory look. It occurs to me that I might be stepping on toes without realizing it. Rowan sounded nothing but fond of Jay, but there might be underlying family dynamics I don’t understand. Or maybe he’s reached his tree-chopping quota for the day. Still, he doesn’t hesitate to nod to his stepfather. “Yeah, of course I’ll help you, Jay.”

“How’d you two meet?” Jay asks, ignoring the tree offer.

“Through friends,” I say with a smile.

Rowan looks uncomfortable.

I can feel Harry’s growing discomfort. If a look could reach across a short distance and shake a person, this one would.

Oliver hustles up as if to pop the discomfort bubble, giving everyone the kind of friendly smile Rowan only seems capable of in stolen moments. “Good to see you, Jay. It’s been a hot minute.”

Jay grins at him. “I was just saying so to your buddy here. He’s gotten too busy to answer my calls, I guess, not that I blame him. The last thing kids your age want to do is hang out with an old man.”

Oliver laughs heartily. “Rowan’s never been a kid. I’m pretty sure he darns his socks at night by candlelight.”

“Very funny,” Rowan says, but he seems relieved by the interruption, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with Jay before Oliver came up.

Harry hustles up to me and takes my arm. He smells of tree sap and apple cider. It’s pleasant, and I’m hit with a pang of sadness. When we leave, we’ll have to leave Christmas behind too. Labelle Manor is all sharp edges and strange embellishments, from the huge ceramic goat in the eastern corridor to the princess bed in my room. It’s not the kind of place you can curl up in and feel peaceful.

“We need to leave,” he whispers. “Now.”

“I know,” I say. And I do. But I don’t move toward the car or wave in farewell. I’m just…not quite ready. Rowan revealed his vulnerable side, and I don’t want to look away. Not yet.

Harry frowns at me, and I’m sure he’s about to say something about the show. Then he leans down, showing me his head.

“Did that squirrel leave marks on my scalp?”

There are a few little scrapes, as if made by tiny claws, and I’m about to say something when Oliver says “Oh, shit,” his voice full of panic, and there’s a muted thump. I look over at them, alarmed, and see that Jay’s sitting on the ground, Rowan crouched over him.

“Did he fall?” I ask, feeling stupid even as the words leave my lips.

“Rowan caught him,” Oliver says. “We need an ambulance.”

“Call the guys,” Rowan says, handing his phone to Oliver. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are fathomless depths of worry and fear, and the look in them pierces all the way down to my soul. For some reason, they seek me out, and I find myself removing the sunglasses and stowing them in my pocket so that our gazes can lock, nothing in between us. A second passes before he looks back down at Jay. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”

I don’t even think. I practically leap across the few steps separating us, the urge inside me undeniable: Go to him. Go to him.

Olive’s grandmother died in front of us when we were little girls. She was there one minute, gone the next, so the first thing I do is look in Jay’s eyes. He’s still there. Even though he looks groggy and woozy, he’s conscious. He’s alive.

“I’m okay,” he croaks as Rowan unzips his coat and loosens the collar of his shirt.

“No, you’re not fucking okay,” Rowan says. “But you’re going to be. You’re going to be .”

There’s ferocity behind the words. The promise that Rowan Mayberry will chase down the Grim Reaper himself if he dares to take this man. Maybe that’s why Jay has a slight smile despite the lines of pain surrounding his eyes.

My heart is in knots.

I barely register Oliver making a call. Suddenly, though, he’s crouched near us. Then he’s saying, “They’re coming with an ambulance, Rowan. A few minutes.”

Rowan nods, but his eyes are on his stepfather. “Come on, Jay. You’ve got to hold on. Just a little while. They’re gonna be here.”

“Kerry’s going to be pissed about the tree,” Jay says through that slight smile of his. “Hates it when I wait too long after Thanksgiving.”

“Something tells me she’ll get over it.” Looking up, his gaze pleading, Rowan says, “Aspirin. Does anyone have any aspirin?”

I don’t, but I’m already on my feet. “I’ll ask inside,” I say as I race for the door. Ralph’s already opening it, a worried look on his face. “We need aspirin,” I say, not trying to modulate my voice. “A bottle of aspirin. They think he’s having a heart attack.”

“Oh my stars and garters. I thought it would be Ralph who had the heart attack,” Ethel says, slipping out from behind her counter and hurrying toward us. She has something in her hand, and she juts it out, almost hitting me, and I nearly gasp with relief at the sight of a bottle of aspirin. “Always do believe in being prepared. The boys have called the paramedics?”

I nod, snatching up the bottle. “And they’re on their way. Thank you .”

I bolt out the door and then to Rowan, giving him the bottle. Harry steps forward with a literal case of water bottles, which he must have retrieved from his trunk. “I have water,” he announces needlessly.

“He has to chew it,” Rowan says, his hand shaking as he tries to open the bottle of pills.

My own shock and panic recede because I recognize I’m needed, and being needed has always helped me gather myself.

I take the bottle from his hands and steadily open it, shaking a few pills out onto his palm.

His eyes meet mine, and he swallows. “Thank you. Thank you.” Then he lowers his head to Jay. “Jay, man, you’ve got to chew these.”

“I think…I’d rather…take the heart attack,” Jay jokes.

“Well, you’re still having a heart attack,” Harry comments, then jolts a little, as if realizing he shouldn’t have said it. He nudges the case of water, which he set on the gravel floor, with his foot. “Should I sit in the car? Maybe I’ll sit in the car. Unless there’s anything else I can do, obviously.”

Oliver takes his hand. “Thank you for the water. Why don’t we keep standing here?”

Jay accepts the pills and chews them, making a face as he munches into them. “Kerry,” he says, looking at Rowan.

He’ll need to call her, I realize. He’ll need to tell her what’s happening. But I can tell Rowan is hesitant to move even an inch away from Jay.

“I’ll call her,” I offer.

“My…pocket,” Jay says, and Rowan slides his phone out.

It’s unlocked, so I start searching for her number, smiling a little because Rowan is giving Jay crap about not keeping his phone locked. It’s obvious he’s trying to distract him.

“She’s…wife,” Jay manages, and sure enough, her number is saved under “wife,” which is so sweet, I feel a little flutter in my heart. The photo is of a dark-haired woman with large caramel eyes. Horror starts to seep through my veins, because I’ll have to tell this lovely woman that her husband is probably having a heart attack.

“Where will they bring him?” I ask.

“Highland Hills Hospital,” Oliver says. “It’s the only one.”

I feel the burn of Rowan’s gaze beating into me, something shining in his eyes besides worry and fear, and I turn away to make the call. Ralph and Ethel are in the doorway, along with a few other people I don’t recognize. Shit. So much for keeping this outing under wraps. If there’s any hope of doing that, we’ll have to leave soon. But I can’t stand the thought of leaving Rowan alone with this.

I mean, obviously he’s not alone. He has Oliver. But…

But you’ve never met a problem you didn’t want to make your own, Kennedy , I can hear my mother telling me.

Maybe it’s true. But that doesn’t mean I’m any more willing to run out on him.

I hit the dial button, and Kerry answers on the second ring. “I’m not coming back, Jay,” she snaps. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty by sending photos of Ralph’s and the perfect tree you found there. The past is the past. You can go fuck yourself.”

Crap. Well, this is awkward.

“Um, Miss…” I realize I don’t know her last name, or Jay’s for that matter, so I settle for the “Miss.”

“Who are you?” the voice asks, her tone cutting. She releases a bitter laugh. “What, he thought he’d get a little strumpet to call to make me jealous?”

The part of me that’s punch-drunk picks up on her use of ‘strumpet,’ but it’s hardly like I can save it as evidence for my argument with Rowan.

“No, ma’am,” I say. “Your husband…I’m afraid he’s having a heart attack.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I expect a more sympathetic response from her this time. I’m shocked when she says, “Well, give his daughter a call. He’s no husband of mine. Not for much longer.”

“He’ll be at Highland Hills Hospital,” I blurt, hoping she’ll think better of it.

“I’m in California, dear ,” she says. “Taking the first vacation I’ve had since marrying that man. I’m not going to cut it short because of him.”

And then she hangs up.

I tap the phone with my fingertips, tempted to call Olive and ask her what in the world I should do, because that was brutal , and I don’t intend to tell someone, mid-heart attack, that his wife is a…well, bitch. Sometimes only a swear will do. No matter what he did, her reaction has to be unwarranted. Then again, I don’t know Jay. I only know what Rowan has told me about him, and our perception of the people around us is always colored by our own perspective.

That’s exactly the reason for the majority of my mistakes.

But I don’t have time to describe all this craziness to Olive, so I put on my big girl panties, as she’d put it, and head back over to Rowan and his stepfather. Jay’s lying on the gravel now, his upper body reclined on Rowan’s lap, and Rowan has the look of a cornered animal. I know he’s afraid he’ll have to watch someone he loves slip away in front of him. Jay’s still conscious, though, which is good. It’s even better that I hear sirens approaching.

Unfortunately, I’m not saved by the bell, because Jay’s eyes seek me out as I hand the phone back to Rowan, who takes it from me with cold fingers, his thumb brushing the back of my hand in thanks. A shiver shakes through my body from that light, voluntary touch.

“Kerry?” Jay asks.

I crouch down next to them. “I wasn’t able to get through to her,” I lie, feeling horrible about it, but sometimes a lie is better than the truth. “I left her a message to call you.”

“Thank you,” he says, closing his eyes.

The sirens get louder.

“You and Harry need to go,” Rowan says, the words a rumble from his chest.

I barely notice Harry whispering, “Oh, thank God,” because pain is stabbing me through the middle. It feels like so much of my life has revolved around me being sent away from important or unpleasant things. From anything at all, really.

“Oh, okay. You’re right. Everything’s under control, and this moment is for family.”

“That’s not why, Princess,” Rowan says, and with the arm not cradling his stepfather, he reaches over to tip up my chin, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re not supposed to be here. Neither is Harry. I don’t want either of you to get into trouble. You’ve helped us. A lot. Now, you need to help yourself.”

“But I don’t want to leave you,” I say, the words spilling out even though I know I’m giving away far too much. I’m not supposed to like him. I’m supposed to dislike him, if anything.

He smiles. “I’ll come see you. Now, go.”

I get to my feet, my whole body shaky. It still feels impossible to leave him like this, with his stepfather in his arms. And he doesn’t even know about the whole Kerry thing. At the same time, he’s right. Harry and I aren’t supposed to be here, and we’ll get in trouble if we’re caught. There’s something else Rowan’s not saying: if it gets out that Harry and I were here, the producers might try to make it a storyline for the show. Jay probably doesn’t want that, particularly if he’s having marital problems.

They’re more than problems.

“You’ll come to me?” I ask. I hate the note of pleading in my voice, but it’s terrible to think that I might walk back into the news blackout of Labelle Manor and hear nothing about Rowan or his stepfather for days.

“I’ll come to you,” he says, his eyes searing me. “Don’t forget your shirt.”

I pick up the bag from where I dropped it, and Harry joins me.

“Don’t worry about the water bottles,” Harry says to them. “Those are yours. Staying hydrated is the best thing you can do in a crisis, and…anyway.”

“I’ll give you a call,” Oliver tells him with a nod. He’s smiling slightly, so at least he doesn’t mind Harry’s verbal flatulence.

“And I’ll answer it,” Harry says, then gets pink. “Obviously I will.”

The sirens are getting louder. It won’t be long now before the emergency response vehicles pull into the parking lot.

“Go,” Rowan tells me once more.

And we do.