Guess I had that pegged.” The old anger was pushing through now, forcing his blood pressure up until Alex could feel his heart banging.
“As for me, I’ve spent the past sixteen years more worried about you than Dad.”
“Yeah, well...I was doing fine until you dragged me back into this.” Alex tipped his head toward their mother, who seemed oblivious to the quiet tension.
“She was better—” Shane started again, but Alex cut him off.
“Maybe you’re just too damn used to the crazy to see it.”
Shane’s jaw stiffened with anger, but his voice stayed calm and low. “I didn’t open myself back up to this until she started getting help. She’s been good. I mean it. Maybe this is just... I don’t know. Maybe it’s just coming to a head, and once the ceremony is done...”
“Sounds like the same old wishful thinking, Shane.”
Shane stared at him for a long moment, his eyes blazing with whatever he wasn’t saying. But he just shook his head. “Maybe. But I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry you’re here.”
“Shane!” their mom suddenly yelped. “Tell your brother he needs to have his speech done by tomorrow night. It can’t wait!”
Alex shook his head. “I guess I’ll be sorry for the both of us. And if you think I’m participating in this dedication, you’ve got another think coming.”
Shane started to reach one hand toward him, but Alex brushed past him and headed for the door. This family was as sick as ever. He shouldn’t have come.
Shane followed him across the living room. “Don’t run away again,” he said quietly.
Alex paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I didn’t run away the first time. I started a life, and I plan to get back to it.”
“Fine. Just give me a few days. That’s all.”
“Okay,” Alex agreed. “A few days. I just came by to let you know I’m here, so you didn’t have to worry I wouldn’t show up. You’ve got my number if you need me.”
“We’re getting together tonight with my girlfriend, Merry, to figure out the logistics of the dedication. She’s the one who runs the ghost town, so if you want to see where we’ll be holding the dedication, Merry will be out there until six. We’re meeting for dinner at the Wagon Wheel at seven.”
Alex shook his head, not sure if he was refusing or just exasperated as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Shane didn’t follow, but Alex only made it halfway to the sidewalk before he was stopped. Not by his brother or his conscience, but by the sight of a very pretty, very angry young woman heading straight toward him on his mother’s front walkway. Her head was down, the sun glinting off her red hair, and her mouth held tight in a frown. The hands that clutched a crumpled pile of papers to her chest were white around the knuckles.
She was only two steps away when she looked up and stumbled to a stop. “Oh,” her pink lips said, her anger falling away to surprise for a brief moment. She pushed up her little black glasses. The anger returned within a few heartbeats and her flushed cheeks got even redder as her eyes narrowed, first at him, then at the door behind him.
“Here.” She shoved the papers at his chest, and Alex automatically caught them. Sticky tape grabbed at his fingers as he tried to catch the few sheets that slipped away. “Tell her to leave me the hell alone.”
“What?” he asked.
“I have tried to be patient, but I won’t tolerate harassment. I’ve reached my limit.” Her finger poked at the papers and a few more fell away. “Tell her to stay off my property and out of my life.”
“Who?” he started, but the wild bundle of female fury spun away from him and stalked off. Alex’s eyes followed her as she turned left and marched down the street. The skirt of her green dress swayed with the movement of her hips, the black belt drawing his eye to her slim little waist. He lost sight of her when she reached some pine trees, but kept staring for a few seconds anyway. Who in the world had that been?
Remembering the papers, he juggled them until he could finally read one, and the murky confrontation became slightly clearer. They were all copies of the same flyer. Not a professional flyer, but something typed in all caps on a computer and printed in an obnoxiously large font. An announcement of the memorial service for his dad. Written in the sort of flowery language that could only have been conjured by an obsessed mind. His mother had printed these and taped them somewhere, apparently on that woman’s property.
For a moment, Alex considered going back into his mom’s house and asking who the woman was and why his mother had assaulted her with flyers, but curiosity wasn’t a strong enough pull to force him back into that mess.
He stuffed all the flyers into his mom’s mailbox and got on his bike, looking down the street in the hopes of spying the mystery woman as he buckled on his helmet. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was sick of his mother’s madness. What a breath of fresh air.
THIS WAS SO humiliating.
Sophie Heyer slid a little lower in her seat, then considered continuing the slide until she was underneath the conference-room table and could crawl out of the library meeting room. But that might draw attention. After all, there were only four others in the room, and they each kept shooting side glances at her, as if waiting for her to break.
She suspected someone had purposefully scheduled this meeting on Sophie’s day off, but she’d ruined the plan by picking up an afternoon shift from Betty, who had a sick baby at home. Well, Sophie was here now. She wasn’t going to cower.
She made herself sit a little straighter and raised her chin, then ruined the confidence by nervously adjusting her reading glasses.
“I think that’s about it!” Merry Kade, the curator of the Providence Ghost Town, finished her presentation with a big smile. “I can’t thank you enough for providing space in the library to commemorate the dedication of the Wyatt Bishop Providence Trail. It means so much to the family.”
Jean-Marie, the library director, nodded sternly. “We’re honored. They’ve played such an important part in the history of Jackson.” Her eyes cut briefly to Sophie, then she cleared her throat and forced a smile. “The display will be a great educational opportunity for people who’ve never made it out to Providence. Thank you for loaning us the items.”
The curator gathered up her presentation papers and offered a friendly goodbye to everyone. She seemed to be the only person unaware of the tension her talk had caused.
Jean-Marie clasped her hands tightly together and cleared her throat one more time, looking solemnly over her employees. “I’d love to have the display done by tomorrow afternoon as the dedication is coming up this weekend. Lauren, would you be willing to—?”
“I’ll do it,” Sophie interrupted.
All eyes turned toward her. No one said a word. She willed her cheeks not to burn as she raised her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“No,”
