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Why did every building in town have to have stairs? One definite advantage of the big cities was elevators. And ramps. Kami kept her sigh internal and heaved herself up the first step. If there were more than three, she’d have turned around and abandoned her quest.
At the top of the steps, she rested for a few seconds, then made her way inside the clinic. Only in Bloo Moose would medical facilities be housed in a pretty yellow Victorian house trimmed with gingerbread lace.
Inside, the sights and scents helped shore up her confidence that the care inside was current. The receptionist sported a nose piercing, purple hair, leather bangles, and used a modern computer. Lots of sleek technology behind her desk. “Hi, I’m Marie. Can I help you?”
“I’m hoping you might have a physiotherapist on-site or that you can direct me to the nearest one.”
Marie’s smile showed off brilliantly white teeth hiding behind the deep red lips. “You’re in luck. Six weeks ago, I would have had to direct you to Burlington, but we now have our very own Bloo Moose physiotherapist right here.”
It turned out the therapist had an opening in thirty minutes, so Kami sat and filled out forms. Maybe the advantages of small-town living would balance out the stairs.
In the therapy room, Kami tugged off the sweatpants, leaving her in shorts. She scooted up on the table. Well, scooted might be optimistic.
In only a few minutes, a tall, tanned man knocked and entered the room. “Hello, Miss Rogers. I’m Dan Wilding and it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a huge fan.” Kami kept the polite smile pasted on her face and swallowed the sigh.
“I played tennis in college myself, not on your level though.” The man chuckled nervously and extended his hand. She resisted the urge to wipe hers dry after the shake. “You played an amazing match against Simona at Wimbledon. Your serves were on fire that day. You should have won, you have an incredible backhand.” He drew in a deep breath and blew it back out. “Sorry. I’m a bit in awe and I’m rambling like a kid.” Another deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
His smile could have been seen from outer space. The man belonged in California, not Vermont. Kami wanted to jump off the table and leave, but Burlington was an hour’s drive away. Maybe he’d got the fanboy nonsense out of his system.
“I’m assuming you’re here about your knee. What kinds of exercises have you been prescribed?” The man slipped on his professional demeanor and Kami relaxed a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.
An hour later, she decided Dan Wilding at least knew his stuff. He’d asked a lot of questions about the injury and her therapy to date before he’d even touched her knee and his touch had been firm and knowledgeable. She’d made her next appointment, but she wasn’t willing to make more yet. One at a time.
Like her steps.
Unable to resist, Kami turned her car back to the boardwalk. She’d walked another railing farther that morning, but she couldn’t get enough of the view. Much better than staring at the walls of her motel.
She sat on a bench near the car lot, her hood pulled up against the wind that felt like winter even though the shoots were popping up in flower boxes. Maybe she’d try gardening once she found herself a place to stay.
If she stayed. If she was brave enough.
Because as strong as she’d pretended to be since arriving, the stress was wearing on her. Too many covert looks. Too many memories. Too many people who knew her and her past. Too much wanting. Had it been a mistake? They said you couldn’t go home and while she hadn’t lived here long, Bloo Moose was the only place she’d felt at home.
Carolina would tell her it was because she’d discovered so many things in town. Tennis. Her first part-time job at the sports store. Her first kiss. Her first love.
Her only love.
She was completely pathetic. Wondering about a man who’d not given her a thought in years. He’d been polite the day before. Careful. Did he think she’d returned to bother him? Was he annoyed by her presence? What did the rest of his family think?
They had absorbed her into their midst so easily back in high school. So much laughter and love. While Carolina had loved Kami with a fierceness not often seen, it had always been the two of them against the world. On their own, after her father had walked away. Living in poverty without him had been wonderful, so much better than scraping by with him.
Looking back, she realized he’d been an alcoholic, possibly a gambler, too. Always needing more and more money, blaming Carolina for her bout with cancer and subsequent lack of employment. Always so angry at the expenses. Kami couldn’t imagine him as anything other than angry and threatening, but there had to have been a spark of something else for Carolina to marry him. Maybe the booze had ruined it.
The LaChance family had been loud and full of emotions, all kinds of them, but never fear or loathing. Anger appeared and disappeared without ever threatening anyone. No grudges. No hatred.
Love. Happiness.
After losing her mom and her career in a matter of months, she needed a little of both. Probably nostalgia, but she was willing to try to find some peace here, reasons to move forward instead of staying stuck in limbo.
The beach below the boardwalk was narrow, less than a dozen feet wide, and she had to lean forward on the bench to get a good look at it. Empty today but once the weather warmed up, it would be filled with locals and tourists enjoying the water sports and the weather.
Maybe time for another goal. She’d make it down the stairs attached to the piers and wiggle her toes in the sand. It was a dozen or so steps. Doable. Or it would be. With the railing, she’d manage. It would take her another few days to extend her walk to the next fishing pier, but then she’d add climbing the steps to her routine. She’d be playing in the sand in no time.
“What’s got you smiling?”
A shiver ran through her system as his voice fired up her body. Rayce. He sat down beside her on the bench and passed her a cup of coffee, kept one for himself.
Unable to stop herself, Kami let her eyes run over him. When she’d seen him the day before, she’d been too stressed to notice much. Work boots, worn jeans, and a hooded flannel shirt shouldn’t be sexy, but they were the way Rayce wore them. He’d strengthened into a man. A delicious, sexy man.
One she didn’t want to notice. She didn’t want to be one of those women who pined their life away over a high school crush, always thinking of the might-have-beens instead of the what-could-bes. It was a small town. He had to interact with her over Kami’s Kamp, whether he liked it or not. He didn’t need to know how much he’d meant to her.
Her left hand rubbed at her hip, where the tattoo sat. A forever reminder to never give her heart again. Love Means Nothing. Especially when the love was one-sided. Besides, she’d got over that love a long time ago. Got past the hurt, too.
Rayce lifted an eyebrow, and she realized she hadn’t said a word while she stared. Giving herself another moment, she sipped the coffee and managed a smile. Hazelnut. Her favorite. “Thanks.”
He nodded and sipped his own coffee, which would be strong and black. “You didn’t visit the site this morning. Thought I’d see you out there.”
Her cheeks flushed. She’d let herself down there, unable to face him, so she’d already missed her reward for making her walking goal. Instead of telling him that, she shrugged.
Those deep brown eyes, soft and warm, studied her, read her heart. “If I know you, you avoided it because I’d be there. Claude tells me he didn’t tell you he and I would be working the project together. His crew is more about the actual build, my crew will take care of the interiors and all the carpentry. I’ll be there every morning.”
Giving her an out, letting her know she could visit in the afternoons if she was too much of a coward to face him. Straightening on the bench, she forced her eyes to stay steady on his. “I’ll be heading out most mornings unless my physio interferes.”
Rayce nodded, the quirk of his lips telling her he’d probably read her mind. Like he had so often in the past. Not any more. She wasn’t that girl anymore.
“How’s the knee healing?”
She hadn’t meant to bring up the physio, point out another of her weaknesses. “It’s fine.”
He heaved out a sigh and turned his gaze back to the water. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. “Is Carolina coming soon? How’s she doing?”
Pain slashed through her and she shoved to her feet, sloshing the coffee as she scrambled to find her cane. Rayce steadied her arm and rose with her. Keeping her eyes straight ahead to the water, Kami took the few steps to the railing. According to her mom’s wishes, she’d kept her death quiet. No funeral service, no announcements. Carolina had been fiercely private.
Kami had told Claude via email when he’d asked about Carolina, but apparently at least one person in Bloo Moose wasn’t compelled to gossip. Saying it out loud still shredded her soul. “Mom died six months ago.”
Rayce’s gasp was full of pain, but she sidestepped his touch when he reached for her. With her nerves bouncing, another touch would send her spiraling out of control.
“God, Kami. I’m so sorry.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him run his hands over his face, through his hair. “So sorry. Carolina was such a special lady. I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”
She nodded, unable to respond aloud. No tears. Not in front of Rayce. Ever.
Finally, Kami turned back to her car, which seemed farther away than before. “It was nice seeing you, Rayce. Thanks for the coffee.” She forced herself to walk without even the hint of a limp. No weakness. She’d show him she’d survived. She didn’t need his pity.
Why the hell did the man have to look so good?
She ignored Rayce’s voice as he called out to her. When her phone rang a few steps from the car, she was relieved. Didn’t matter if it was a telemarketer, it was an excuse to keep walking away.
Kami placed the coffee on top of the car and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Seeing the name on the caller id automatically made her feel better. Sylvie Robichaud had been more friend than manager for years now. “Bonjour Sylvie, ça va?”
Sylvie’s laugh rang through the phone, loosening some of the knots in Kami’s stomach. “Bonjour, mon amie, ça va bien, merci. Et toi?” Thankfully, Sylvie didn’t wait for an answer, because Kami had no intention of telling her she was an emotional mess. “So, how is your little town of Bloo Moose?”
Kami looked at the lake, thought of the bright and colorful shops filling the street behind her. “Hasn’t changed much at all.”
“Have you seen him?”
Kami’s heart stuttered, and she looked behind her, but Rayce had disappeared. “Who?”
Sylvie heaved one of her dramatic sighs. “Him, who. I don’t know his name because you’ve never been inclined to share it, which is more than a little annoying. The him who broke your heart, the him you’re still in love with.”
It took Kami a moment to be able to speak. “I am not still in love with him.”
“Aha! You do not protest the fact he broke your heart. I knew it. And yes, you are.”
Kami laughed, hoped it sounded authentic. “You’re crazy, Sylvie.”
“But of course. How else do you think I could have survived in this business since the ages of the dinosaurs?” Sylvie was nearing her fifties but could pass for more than a decade younger. “The craziness, it is my best trait.”
“It really is.” Kami waited for more. Sylvie rarely wasted a moment in her life and if she’d called, it wasn’t to see how small-town life was treating Kami. As her manager, Sylvie handled the business end of a tennis player’s life. Even though she’d never play again, the stress of dealing with the money, the mail, the paperwork, was too big. She’d continue to have Sylvie on her payroll for at least a while. The woman’s mind for details was legendary, and she was also about the closest thing to a friend she had at the moment.
“I have two things for you.” Kami smiled at the predictable sentence. “First, we have received another letter from Freaky Fan.”
Kami’s smile dropped. Freaky Fan scared the bejeebers out of her. Emails, letters, flowers, candy, clothing, even underwear. Creepy with a capital C. Told her he’d soon be at her side and they’d spend the rest of their lives together. Talked about how he’d take care of her and fill her every need, how she’d be safe and whole with him. Signed every letter with love and adulation forever and always, your Heart. The thought of his signature gave her the chills.
They’d called in the police, who’d called in psychological experts from the FBI and Interpol. They all agreed Freaky Fan was capable of violence, even eager for it. His obsession was way beyond normal weird fan mail.
Kami swallowed hard to keep her voice steady. “What’s this one say?”
Sylvie’s voice was tight, hard. “The usual. He loves you, wants you to himself. Worries about your knee and recovery.”
“Nothing new, then?”
The pause had her hands shaking. “Well, there is one thing.”
Kami’s heart bounced against her ribs. “Spill it, Sylvie.”
It took a few moments, then her manager sighed. “He wants you to realize the accident was a good thing because it’s going to let you two spend more time together. He used the word blessing.”
Shivers ran over her, and she gripped the phone and the cane firmly to control her body. This man scared her, but she didn’t want to tell Sylvie so she waited until she could speak without her voice giving her away. Stay tough. “Freaky Fan is going to get another adjective starting with F in front of his name soon.”
As she’d hoped, Sylvie snorted out a laugh, even if it was a bit shaky. “I’ve notified Interpol and the FBI, just in case, but no one knows you’re in Bloo Moose except me. Keep it that way.”
Kami thought of the gossips in the town, but figured they mostly spoke with each other. None of them had an inside track to the tabloids. And until she opened the center, she wasn’t news. No one would care.
Sylvie was the only one she’d told about Kami’s Kamp other than Claude. Well, the permit people and her accountant had known and her bank and her lawyer, but none of them would bother with spreading news about her. There was no point, nothing to gain.
For now, she was an unknown, but when the Kamp opened, she wanted that to change. She needed to reach out to the kids who needed the opportunity.
Something to worry about on another day. After another steadying breath, she asked, “Okay, what’s the second thing?”
“Nothing threatening. An email on the website. In some ways, it’s normal. A guy telling you he’s a fan, has been impressed by your career, would be honored to see you, that kind of thing.”
All normal. So why did her stomach tie itself into ever more knots? She was going to get an ulcer. “What aren’t you telling me, Sylvie?”
Another dramatic sigh. “I wasn’t planning on telling you at all because you’ve never mentioned him.”
She knew him? Someone from her past? From one of the towns she’d lived in. If it was someone from Bloo Moose, he’d be more likely to approach her here.
“He claims to be your father.”
Her father.
Kami’s cane clattered to the ground, but she barely registered the sound. Her father. Flashes of emotion ran through her. Fear. Loneliness. Anger. He’d left them when her mom had barely been out of the hospital after having her leg removed because of the cancer. He’d left a note telling them he’d found a job in another state. He was moving without them.
He’d left them with tens of thousands of dollars of debt from the hospital bills and more than that in other debt they hadn’t realized he’d incurred. She hadn’t heard from him since. Hadn’t wanted to.
She and Carolina had been evicted from their apartment in Trentville, had found the trailer in Bloo Moose where they could afford the small rent. Carolina had become pregnant in high school and had dropped out, leaving her with few employable skills and the cancer had taken some of those away. Then the creep that was Peter Carson had taken her confidence with him.
Kami’s after-school jobs had helped, but life hadn’t been easy before her father had left and it hadn’t got better financially until she’d made a place for herself with her tennis.
Now he was back, wanting to meet her.
“Kami? Kami? Are you there, honey? Talk to me, Kami.”
Sylvie’s voice penetrated the fog surrounding Kami’s brain, and she looked for her phone. On the ground next to her cane.
Leaning on the car for support, Kami bent down, but her knee was as shaky as the rest of her and she collapsed in a graceless heap in the parking lot. Ligaments and tendons shrieked, and she had to roll and untwist in order to get her breath back. Finally, she managed to pick up the phone, but it took another long minute before she could respond to the panicking Sylvie. “I’m okay. Sorry. It was a bit of a shock and I dropped the phone.”
“You scared a year off my life, mon amie.” Sylvie’s accent had thickened. “Are you all right?”
Not even a little bit. No mom. No career. Back in Bloo Moose, where wounds she’d thought were healed were ripping open again. Freaky Fan was escalating his game. And now her dad wanted to meet her. Probably wanted money. “I’m fine, Sylvie. Just peachy.”
“Peachy? What is this peachy? Isn’t that a fruit?”
Kami laughed. Sylvie’s English was as good as her own and there was no doubt she knew exactly what peachy meant, but the laugh helped.
She might not be fine yet, but she would be.
If she could get her butt off the parking lot.
Carolina Rogers was dead and Rayce hadn’t known it. Hadn’t reached out to Kami when she’d been left alone in the world. Regret left a sour taste in his mouth as he sanded down the wood for the dining room table.
He’d kept tabs on her. How had he missed it?
She’d had to go through that alone.
He knew nothing of her life now. She was probably surrounded by friends. And men. Who could resist those eyes? Same shade as the mahogany he was working with. Full of emotion behind the wall she kept erected. She’d let it crumble when they’d been together in high school, but it was back. Stronger than ever.
At least partially his own fault.
Did she have a man? A lover? The press hadn’t mentioned anything over the years, but Carolina had taught her well. He’d met few as private as Kami, but Carolina was the true expert. She never answered personal questions, but you didn’t realize it until later because she’d become adept at turning the conversation to something else—usually the person doing the asking.
Some people in Kami’s situation would have played up the mom card, but not Kami. She wouldn’t have done that to her mom, they’d always had an incredibly tight bond. So instead of using her mom to gain sympathy and fans, she’d kept her private life very private.
She’d always done anything for her mom. Worked at least two jobs throughout high school, put in hours and hours on the court with the dream of not only playing tennis but giving her mom some luxuries.
And she’d still made time for him. Looking back now, he didn’t know how she’d done it. How many times had she fallen asleep on him? On the dock, in the car, at the movies, on the boat. He’d thought it was cute then, that she’d trusted him enough to truly relax. Now he realized she’d been exhausted. He’d been a jerk in so many freaking ways.
Rayce forced his hands to soften their touch. He wanted to sand the table, not go right through it.
When his arm started to ache, he straightened and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge he’d bought for the workshop. No dinky bar fridge but a full-sized one, filled with all kinds of beverages and food as well.
The workshop was huge, forty by forty and ruthlessly organized. Total man cave, or at least his version of one. Multiple workbenches on wheels, two hundred amp service, awesome stereo and even a small room off the back for finished projects that hadn’t yet found a home.
Including the desk he’d made for Kami. It hadn’t been finished when she’d left town, so she’d never seen it, hadn’t known about it. He wandered into the back and pulled the tarp off. The roll-top had taken him forever. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d had to start over.
In their cramped trailer, she’d never had room to organize her things. Or time. He’d created the desk, so she had lots of drawers and pockets and things could always be in the right place.
Looking at it with a critical eye, he could tell it was the work of an amateur, someone only learning the trade. But it wasn’t bad. Even Jaz didn’t know he’d built it and that’s the way it would stay. He’d wanted so desperately to help her, but hadn’t figured out the right way. Until that last day. What he’d done, he’d done for her.
Rayce covered the desk again and left the workshop. He needed to prove to himself he wasn’t the jerky kid who’d brushed off Kami without telling her how he felt. Without telling her anything or even asking her opinion. He’d known the right thing to do, but the way he’d gone about it could have used improvement.
This land, the workshop, and the house he was building had to prove something, even if it was that he’d grown up a bit.
Rayce walked around the house to where he was planning to build a dock later in the year. The ice hadn’t been gone too long now, but he had other priorities first. Interior walls, for instance. And furniture.
His brothers and Max were on his case to start selling his furniture, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. For now, he enjoyed planning and making pieces for individuals.
Like Kami’s desk.
Her eyes had been so damn blank when he’d seen her at the field and again on the boardwalk. He wanted more. To find out how she really was. To be her friend. To be something more.
The crazed barking made Rayce smile as he waited for Buzz Saw to arrive. The stray had adopted him once the snow melted. He wouldn’t go inside the house yet, wouldn’t even step onto the porch, but he gobbled up the food Rayce had taken to leaving outside.
The mutt tripped over a fallen branch as he tried to bound into the clearing, landing in a heap of knobby knees and floppy ears. Once he untangled himself, he loped over to Rayce and smiled up at him. Rayce squatted down and gave the dog a rub down. Progress. It had taken him a week before the dog would allow a touch. “Catch any squirrels today?”
The roar of an approaching motorbike had the dog squealing and twining between Rayce’s legs, nearly knocking him on his ass. Laughing, he gave the dog another pat and headed back to see Max. Once the motor quit, Buzz Saw followed, probably hoping the metal monster hadn’t stolen the food from his dish.
Max swung off the bike and pulled off his helmet. “See her?”
Rayce rolled his eyes and kept walking to the workshop. He’d probably need a beer in a minute. “You know, for a writer, you don’t use many words.”
Max snorted. “Don’t waste ‘em. Well?”
Definitely needed a beer. He grabbed a couple, handed one to Max, giving him time to think, to prepare some kind of answer. He’d never been able to hide much from his friend or his brothers, but none of them had known how broken he’d been when Kami had left. Or how he’d ended it with her.
Wanting to keep his hands busy and hoping to avoid looking at his buddy, Rayce picked up one of the legs for the chairs that would go in the dining room. They needed to be sanded, too. “Yeah, I saw her.”
“So, she as hot as she looks on TV? Do those legs really go on forever?”
Max ducked as the chair leg flew at his head, then he laughed. Howled, really. “She’s still got you tied in knots. Come on, let’s sit on the deck before you wreck your damn chair.”
Probably a good plan, except he didn’t want to talk.
Max waited at the door, dark eyes seeing too damn much. If he stayed in the workshop, he’d give away too much. His friend would assume he was a total mess.
The dog followed them to the front and whined when they walked up the steps. When they didn’t come back down, he sniffed around the wood, whined some more, then ventured up one step, quivering the whole while. When nothing bad happened, he sniffed around the next step but didn’t move up. Instead, he plopped down on the bottom and rested his head on the second step, staring at Rayce. At least he hadn’t screwed up with him yet.
“So, how is she? How’s she doing?”
Rayce sighed and stared out at the lake. The choppy water matched his feelings. “Too thin. Her body hasn’t recovered from the surgery, yet.” She’d looked translucent, frail and there’d never been anything frail about Kami’s body. Or maybe it was all in the eyes. “Carolina died six months ago.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. You hadn’t heard anything, either?”
The writer shook his head and frowned. “Not a damn thing. And I should have.” When Rayce shot him a look, he rolled his eyes. “I’m online a lot for research. I’ve got alerts set up for all kinds of things.”
“What the hell is an alert?”
“Some days, I’m surprised you can even answer your phone. An alert is what it sounds like. I’ve got them for the titles of my book, my name, that kind of thing. That way, when someone talks about my book, I can follow the link and see what they’re saying, then I can thank them or bitch about them.”
Sounded reasonable. Except he’d set one up for Kami. “Why the hell do you have one set up for her?”
Max grinned and sipped his beer. “Down boy. I like Kami and it’s pretty cool to have a famous Bloo Mooser. Plus, watching pretty women work up a sweat in those little skirts and shorts? Not a hardship.” Rayce tried to say something, but it came out as more of a growl, making Max laugh. “And there’s that. That’s the real reason right there, LaChance.”
“What?”
No laughter in his buddy’s eyes now. “You never got over her. Don’t know what happened between you two that last day, but it wasn’t good. You changed that day.”
No way. “Did not.”
“Did too and if you say it again, you’re going to sound like you’re six.”
Rayce gritted his teeth to keep the words inside. Max could talk everyone into a corner.
“You did. You put on a plastic face when Kami left. Walked around smiling with nothing behind your eyes. You wouldn’t talk to me or Gage, not even Jaz. Even Lil Pest couldn’t get through to you and that girl can nag anyone into talking.”
Rayce smiled at that.
Max wasn’t done. “Took months before you even seemed like you again. Other friends would have dumped you so you’re lucky I’m still around.” Another mouthful of beer. “Anyway, I figured you’d need to know if anything big came up, so I set up an alert. Didn’t want you blindsided and turning back into Plastic Man.”
Had he been that bad? He’d thought he’d faked it pretty well.
They sat on the deck for a while, watching the dog, who’d given up on trying to lure them down the stairs and was now trying to catch bugs floating on the water. Even in their spring stupor, they were smarter. Buzz Saw acted surprised when he got wet. Every single time.
“That dog is as stupid as he is ugly.” Max’s voice was full of affection.
Hard to argue with the truth, so Rayce nodded.
After a while, he was able to ask another question. “Did any of those alerts talk about the crash?” His stomach clenched every time he thought of it. One moment a rising star, the next unsure if she’d walk again. Far away in England. All alone.
“In all its gory details. Guy got clean away. The car’d been stolen. Probably some drunk looking for a cheap way home. Bastard.”
“And nothing on Carolina?”
“Not a damn thing. Ever. If the two of you hadn’t dated, I don’t know if I’d have even known about her. Never known anyone as private as Kami Rogers.”
True. It had taken him months to break down her walls. Even then, he’d never learned much about her past. Getting her to discuss herself had been ridiculously difficult. He’d treasured every item she’d shared.
Had the cancer returned?
“Any of those alerts mention a boyfriend?”
Max’s laugh had the mutt bounding up to the stairs toward the deck and shaking his fur all over the bottom step.
Rayce ignored the laugh and the dog. “Don’t be an ass. I was wondering if she had anyone in her life to help her when Carolina died.”
“Sure you were.” Max rose and moved down to play with the dog for a few minutes, making Rayce grind his teeth together to stop from asking the question again.
Finally, Max took pity on him. “No boyfriends or husbands mentioned. Not then, not ever.” Before Rayce could feel relieved, he continued, “but, no mention of Carolina either, so doesn’t mean much.”
Damn.
“This would make a great plot for my next novel.”
“Shut up, Max.”