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AS LOGAN DROVE THEM into the park—the mountains opening up like massive gates to them—Bea kept up a constant banter with “the boys,” leaving Adalyn to her own thoughts. The Flathead River rushed out of the park to the left side of the narrow, winding highway, the rapid June snowmelt evident. Chase had been right. This place not only smelled like home, but felt like home too. It was exactly where she needed to be, for more reasons than Gramps’s declining health.
But could her stalker really not find her here? Her hometown dates on the show had been back in the Twin Cities, where her parents lived when they weren’t on some river cruise in Europe or on a trek to Machu Picchu. Never had she specifically mentioned Montana—only some vague references with Adam that she’d spent some summers in the Northwest. He’d had a love of mountains too. But something beyond the producer’s caution—God, maybe?—had told her to not share more than that. So much of her life had been exposed on that show. Contractually, she was required to share a lot. But this place? This place had been one of the few secrets she held back from sharing, even with Connor. She’d told him about it when they got engaged, of course. Begged him to come back with her, when things started falling apart. But thankfully, none of that had been on camera.
On the advice of a friend, she’d gone back on her Facebook and Instagram profiles before the first show released, deleting whole years from her account, as well as anything that would help someone find her. It had pained her to delete all the beautiful pictures of family celebrations, hikes and experiences with friends—like Logan and Chase—but she’d carefully put them in a folder on her computer before eradicating them from her social media stream. Maybe she’d take this summer to print them out and put them in albums, like Bea had been talking about. A real, physical album, rather than something she could find somewhere on her phone or computer.
There was something reassuring about that idea. Those pictures were solid memories of who she had been and who she truly was now, a reminder of her core person, rather than the dejected, lonely, lost TV personality The One had made her out to be. “Do you mind if I open my window, Logan?” she asked, since he was driving.
“Sure,” he said. “I think it’s warm enough.”
“Yeah, baby!” Bea called, bringing hers down too. “Bring on Summer!”
Their conversation gave way to the roar of wind and river and the occasional car or truck passing them on the other side of the road. The distinct smell of the water, earthy loam, decaying grass and pine filled Adi’s nostrils, even as her skin chilled in the wind. Here, in the deep shadows of the canyon, it was cooler, but she ignored the mild discomfort, resting her chin on her elbow and staring out at the rushing water and the mountains gradually opening to the first, grand expanse of the park, with her towering peaks. Here and there, waterfalls broke free of cliffs and cascaded down canyons carved by centuries of such runoff. Birch and aspen swayed in a light breeze, their early leaves a vibrant green against their piney neighbors. Along the river, a bald eagle sailed, searching for a fat trout to pluck for breakfast.
“How’s the bald eagle population?” she asked Chase over her shoulder. As a biologist, she knew he’d know. He’d known even when they were kids.
“Stronger than ever,” he said, giving her a hopeful smile. When their grandparents were young, bald eagles had been endangered. Their excitement over seeing their population gradually increase had been contagious for Adi, Chase and Logan.
She looked out and saw a nest then, the mother tucking eaglets back into place, only the very top of their fuzzy heads visible. Another sailed in a circle, high above. Last year in Chicago, it had become a social media phenomenon when a bald eagle had chosen a high-rise corner to build her nest and bring three eaglets into the world. People loved the surprise of seeing something so wild make her home in a place so urban.
But it was so much better seeing them here, Adalyn thought. Kinda like me. So much better for me to be here than on some TV show or on social media. So much better...
Logan slowed down as they reached the turn-off for West Glacier and Adi’s heart sped up. She hadn’t known how much she missed this place. Why had she been gone so long? Sure, vacation was short. Her two weeks’ allowance from Smith & Jessen had been eaten up by some girlfriend trips to Paris and Rome—along with holidays with her parents—and in the last year by The One. But as fun as those cities had been, and as important as it was to spend a Christmas or Easter with her folks when they happened to be in the States, it was here that Adi recognized she longed to be most.
They passed the welcome center, ranger station, old diner and through the small village of Apgar, then down the winding road to the quiet corner of the lake that had always felt like hers and hers alone. Logan pulled up in the parking lot that was between the Lake McDonald Boat Launch and the Kreature Komforts cabin complex. Hearing their truck, Gramps came to the old screen door and peered out, then grinned and opened it on creaking hinges. Stiff-legged, he climbed down the three stone steps and lumbered toward her, still her Gramps, but looking impossibly aged since she saw him last Christmas in Chicago.
He welcomed her into his arms, and in holding him, Adalyn discovered he’d lost a great deal of weight. His clothes were practically hanging off him. Was the man eating anything?
“Adi, Adi,” he said, squeezing the breath out of her. “It is so good to see you, sweetheart.”
“It’s good to be seen,” she said, leaning back and gazing into his eyes, which now held the glaze of cataracts and were ringed by new lines. “I hear you haven’t been in the best of health.” At O’Hare, Chase had told her that the doctor had mentioned a couple of minor TIAs, as well as warnings of another stroke or heart attack to come. On top of that, he was malnourished and dehydrated. He needs rest and consistent care, the doctor had said.
“Ach,” he said, waving her words away and then patting his chest with both hands. “As healthy as an old ox, despite what they say.”
Chase shot her a look over the old man’s shoulder and crossed his arms. “Now you’re going to have to be honest with her, Gene. I didn’t bring her all this way to fill her head with big fish stories.”
“There’ll be time enough to tell me all about it,” Adalyn said, looping her arm through her grandfather’s. “Shall we go in for a cup of hot chocolate? I got a little chilled on the ride.”
“Did you not have the presence of mind to keep my granddaughter warm in that truck, boy?” Gramps chided Chase.
“Hey, it was Logan driving and your girl who wanted the windows open!” he returned, only mildly defensive.
“I wanted to smell it, Gramps,” she said, shortening her stride to match her grandfather’s new, shuffling gait. “It’s been too long since I smelled Montana.”
“Too long since you smelled her or saw her or heard her,” he groused. “Too long by far. I don’t understand it, Adi. How you and your mother could stay away so long.”
In his words she heard a measure of hurt and longing, as well as true bewilderment.
“I don’t know either, Gramps. I’m sorry for that. Life...well, life gets distracting.”
“So I hear, so I hear.” He waved away her hand when she reached for the door handle, insisting on opening it for her. “Go on, now.”
It was then that she noticed that Chase had carried her bag behind her. “I’ll just put this in right here,” he said, “and give you two some time to catch up over that hot chocolate and some lunch.”
“Thanks, Chase,” she said. “For everything. I...well, thanks for everything,” she said again, unsure of all she was feeling, let alone how to put it into words.
“Sure, sure, Adi,” he said. He paused by the door, hands on narrow hips. There in the doorway, silhouetted by the warm morning sun on the mountainside behind him, she noticed how fine he’d turned out. It was like she hadn’t seen him, really seen him, when he discovered her in full-panic mode in her apartment hallway. But now she saw him. Boy, all at once did she see him. Square jaw, wide shoulders, long legs. He had some inches on her, and she was kind of tall. But it was his eyes—those warm, intriguing, hazel eyes—that had always captured her attention. They were keen, taking in every detail, but never too intense, as if they carried the light of his demeanor too.
“Adalyn?” he asked, squinting those pretty eyes and cocking his head. “You okay?”
“What?” she asked, shaking her head. “Oh! Yes, yes.” She felt the heat of a blush climbing her neck, her cheeks. “It’s all been...just a lot, you know?”
He stepped closer. “I know,” he said lowly, so Gramps couldn’t hear. “But Adi girl, you can rest here. Recuperate, along with your grandfather. He can let his body heal; you can let your heart do the same.”
She nodded quickly, hoping he didn’t see the quick tears in her eyes. What was it about the kindness of a friend that allowed grief to surface so fast? It always took her by surprise. “Thanks, Chase. For all you did. Coming out to get me when you couldn’t get ahold of me.” For getting me to leave when a stalker was closing in. She shivered, remembering the rose in her bed. What would she have done if he hadn’t arrived? What might the next day have brought?
He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, Adi. You look a little...pale. Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, forcing a bright tone and easing away. She turned to her grandfather. “Gramps, you want me to make you some lunch?”
“Lunch?” he asked, sitting in a decrepit old recliner by the window. “I mostly eat my big breakfast and then wait until I can heat a can of soup, come dinner.”
“Which is why you’ve lost so much weight, I wager,” Chase said. “You listen to your granddaughter, Gene,” he called. “Eat and drink everything she gives you. Rest when she tells you to. You’ll be back to yourself in no time.”
“Well, maybe,” Gramps semi-promised, giving him an apologetic smile. “Appetite’s not what it once was.”
“Maybe with a little more company, it will return,” Adi said. “I always find food tastes better when I’m with someone else than when I’m alone.”
“Amen to that,” Chase said. He paused again. “Would you mind if I came around tonight after supper? Maybe we could catch up a little?”
“I’d like that,” she said. “Meet at the dock, about eight o’clock?” She glanced back at Gramps. He looked like he was already ready to doze. Surely he’d be asleep by seven. Some time on the end of the dock with Chase might be nice. For old time’s sake. But then her stomach twisted at the thought of such intimacy. “Invite Logan and Bea,” she added hurriedly.
“Sure,” he said amiably. “They’d like that. See you later.” He gave her an adorable little wink and shoved out through the squeaky screen door.
The oil can has to be around here somewhere, she thought. How many other repairs would need to be made in order to get ready for guests, due to start coming in a couple of weeks? But first, lunch. Her stomach was rumbling and feeding her grandfather every few hours had to be a part of the plan. “What do you have to eat around here, Gramps?”
“Well, you could make toasted cheese sandwiches,” he said. “I usually have bread and cheese. Maybe even a can of tomato soup in the cupboard.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly, as if even the thought of it wearied him.
“You just take a little snooze,” Adi said. “I’ll take stock of what you have. Maybe a run to the grocery store in Kalispell will be in order?”
“Maybe,” he said.
Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow she’d make the drive in. Today, all she wanted to do was make-do while she took stock, not only of the kitchen, but the whole cabin, as well as all the guest cabins. And of Gramps himself.
He set his glasses on the side table and closed his eyes, beginning to nod off even as she watched him from the pass-through in the kitchen. The cabin was old—vintage national park, circa 1940s—but it was relatively clean. To her, it looked like Mrs. Larson still came around once a week to clean. Gramps had never been one to see dust or grime; after Grams died, Mom had seen Mrs. Larson hired. Happily, she still seemed to be in the picture.
She opened cupboard after cupboard. A jar of pickles. A bottle of mustard. In the fridge, she found the promised bread—with but two heels and a lone dried slice left—and a half-pack of Velveeta, but little else. No tomato soup, as mentioned. Not even some butter for Gramps’s toasted cheese. Was Velveeta fatty enough to carry the day without it? She supposed so. Maybe I’ll have to take his truck and go to town today after all, she thought tiredly as she opened the freezer to find nothing but two old, grape popsicles, half-melted and stuck to the freezer floor. Victims of a power failure at some point.
She stretched out her palms on the counter and peered at her grandfather. How long had it been this bad? What had happened to her vibrant Gramps, always ready to flip burgers or a “dog” on the grill for not only himself but Chase and Logan too? He’d routinely gone to Kalispell every Tuesday to shop for the week. When did that stop? Last month? Or last year?
A flash of guilt shot through her. What kind of granddaughter was she? Off gallivanting with eligible bachelors in Spain, Greece and Thailand, while her grandfather was here, slowly deteriorating? And what about Mom and Dad? Why hadn’t they come to Montana to check on him?
She straightened and rubbed her face, looking to the old ceiling tiles above. I’ve been as selfish as my mother, she admitted to herself. “Help me, God,” she whispered. “Help me to get Gramps back on his feet again, even as you help me too.”
With that, she took to finding the old cast iron pan, settled some cheese atop the old bread, and made it extra thick to make up for the lack of fat on the outside. She set it on low heat and then rummaged through more cupboards, finding a few packets of hot chocolate. She put a kettle of water on the stove, and as she waited for the sandwiches to toast—hers open-faced due to lack of bread—and the kettle to whistle, she gazed out a dirty window to the lake. Yes, there would be plenty here to keep her busy. As your heart heals, Chase had said. Or something like that.
It was an odd feeling. The sense of being home and yet a bit of a foreigner at the same time. But she liked the growing sense of urgency, purpose she felt gathering in her mind and heart. At Smith & Jessen last week, she felt like the partners had just been feeding her minor tasks to keep her busy while they figured out what to do with her; here she felt needed in a hundred different directions. Vital. And she knew this was exactly where she was supposed to be for the summer.
How long had it been since she had felt that?
Since before Connor, she decided, running her hand along the rough-hewn beam to her right. Since before Adam, really. No, before she ever sat down with the producers of The One for their extensive interviews, including psychological and physical testing. From that day on, she’d felt like she was living someone else’s life.
Here, she wasn’t Stalled-Out Stalling. She wasn’t the most famously rejected girl in America. She was just Adi. The same Adi who’d been here at five and fifteen. Did she remember that girl? Could she recover a bit of her again, after all that had happened? A bit of her hope, her enthusiasm, her gumption?
Adalyn pulled the kettle from the unit before it could truly scream. If Gramps was asleep, she wanted him to continue to do so. When he woke, he could eat. She’d see to that. Peeking at him, she could see his mouth hanging open, emitting a small, choking snore. She’d let him sleep now and be right there waiting for him to wake up. Then and only then, after she’d seen him eat and drink, would she go see the state of the rest of property.
*****
KENNETH STARED AT ADALYN Stalling’s apartment, shifting in his car seat for the hundredth time. Where was she? Had she driven out when he ran into the McDonald’s to go to the bathroom? No. She never left that early.
Just like she never left work early. But somehow, he’d missed her yesterday, driving home from Smith & Jessen to the apartment building. And now this morning?
His eyes traveled the length of the street, then back to the garage, then up to the sixth floor. The sixth floor where he’d taken his time in her apartment, examining her refrigerator, her cupboards, the contents of every drawer and closet, before carefully slipping that last, perfect rose in her bed. He’d considered staying last night. Introducing himself at last, just as he’d longed to, ever since Adam had sent her home. That night had been his first epiphany; maybe, just maybe, Adam had rejected her because Adalyn was meant for Kenneth.
When Connor broke their engagement and her heart, Kenneth became certain of it. Why else would a man do such a thing unless fate had intervened? The woman was perfect. Smart and sexy, with that olive skin and sculpted legs and hourglass figure. Her hair...well, he couldn’t wait to run his hands through those long, shiny brown strands and pull her full lips to meet his. He couldn’t wait for those lash-fringed dark eyes—too long centered on men unworthy of her—to stare only at him.
Yes, he had been close last night to staying. But he knew it was probably too soon. He knew how much Connor had hurt her. That she’d need time to heal. It was enough now to remind her that she was still worthy, still so worthy of a good man’s love. Someone who would cherish her. Someone who could afford to keep her safe in his home. She’d never have to go out again. Never face the stupid paparazzi who trailed her. He could go and get groceries, anything she needed, and bring it to her. He could go to work and come home to her. She’d be in that pretty little black dress she wore on her next-to-last date with Adam, the one that just skimmed her knees and hugged her curves without being too trashy. He’d ask her to wear that.
She would make him his favorite meal—chicken cordon bleu—and a fresh salad. She’d be barefoot. He liked a woman with her cute little toes showing. He’d make sure she got them painted. A pretty pink, perfect for summer with her fingernails to match. He’d have a hair stylist come to the apartment. A masseuse too. If only she let him take care of her, he’d take care of everything. Absolutely everything. And in turn, she would take care of him, be his helpmate, the constant companion he’d always longed for.
They needed each other. In time, she’d see that. When the time was right, he reminded himself. Until that time, he needed to be patient.
But while he waited, he hungered for glimpses of her. That’s what got him through each day. The brief glimpses of her at the gym, where he’d watched her via the mirror. Or in the store, where he’d trailed her from a distance down several aisles, watching her choose gluten-free items and fresh fruit. Even at the post office, when he’d dared to get in line behind her, just so he could get the chance to smell her perfume.
Now, after being in her apartment, he knew the name of that perfume. Daisy Summer.
He’d gone straight out and purchased a bottle this morning, just so he could spritz it in the air of his apartment and pretend she was right around the corner, waiting for him in that little black dress.
While he waited for her to emerge from her apartment, he rifled through the shopping bag, fished out the box and then opened the lid. The bottle had a molded daisy on the top. Fitting, he thought, for his girl, this perfume. She was so like a daisy, turning one way and then the other to follow her “sun.” Well, soon enough, she’d know that she didn’t need to keep searching. Soon enough, she’d know her search was over.
Just as his was.
“Now, Adalyn,” he said, lifting the bottle to his nose as he stared at the garage. “Just give me a glimpse of you, girl. That’s all I need today. To see your pretty face will give me the strength to wait another day and then another. Until you’re ready for me. Truly ready. I can wait, sweetheart. I can. But let me see you. Let...me...see...you!” With each of those last words he slammed the palm of one hand against the steering wheel.
With some agitation, he ran a hand through his hair and checked his watch again. 9:30 am. She was really late for work. Or...Or. What if she was sick?
Or worse, did she call in sick because his roses had made her remember all she was missing in Adam and Connor? Had he miscalculated? Hurt her, rather than helped her?
The very thought of it made him nauseated. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, again and again, chanting, “Stupid, stupid, stupid” with each bang.
This was why he always messed things up with girls. Never got his timing right.
Should he go up? Go to the doorman, ask him to ring her apartment? Explain?
And if she was sick, he could...
No. The doorman would never allow that. He’d seen plenty of photographers try and worm their way around the man. It was only because he’d managed to see with binoculars one of Adalyn’s sixth-floor neighbors punch in the code that he’d been able to get into the building from the back, let alone up to her floor. He’d figured out which apartment was hers—she kept her blinds shut these days, but hadn’t at first. A locksmith mold was all he needed to create a key. But after the cops had arrived last night, he had no doubt that even the buffoons in security had reconfigured every floor code come morning, and seen that Adalyn’s locks were changed. He wouldn’t be getting up there again now, especially if he hoped to remain unseen. Last night, a timely pizza delivery had distracted them as he did his work on the sixth floor. Today, they’d be wiser for it.
So I’ll call Smith & Jessen and find out what’s up. He pulled out his cell and dialed the number from memory. He’d taken to calling a few times a day, just to hear her name spoken, even if it wasn’t her own voice.
Her extension rang and rang and finally switched to voicemail. But instead of the normal message, it was Adalyn! Her voice! Dazed, he drank in the sound of her voice as if she were speaking direcly to him. But then she said something about being gone...He blinked, and blinked again. Had he heard her correctly? Surely not. Hurriedly, he tried to dial again, fumbled, and began again.
With trembling hands he listened to her message, concentrating on every word, which was hard because his pounding heart seemed to want to drown out everything else.
“Hello, you’ve reached Adalyn Stalling’s office. Due to personal circumstances, I am on an extended leave of absence from Smith & Jessen. Please press 3 now to be connected to my colleague, Mary Roberts, or 0 to be connected to an operator. Thank you.”
He dialed back and listened to the message three times, trying to get his mind around it. She was taking a leave of absence? He looked up at the apartment. He’d not seen her lift the blinds, as she had done without fail, every morning at seven. Even when she’d been off work before. So had she left town? No. It couldn’t be.
One way or another, he had to find out.