Chapter 15
Wes watched everything play out. He’d known Caleb would eventually find out. It appeared Rowan hadn’t told him yet.
Caleb went still as he turned toward the sheriff. “What kind of story?”
“According to the news, Rowan left her movie set a few days ago without telling anyone where she was going. The studio put out a statement this morning. They’re calling it a personal crisis.” Sheriff Sutherland paused. “They also mentioned something about erratic behavior.”
Caleb stared at him. “That’s not—Rowan doesn’t . . . she seemed fine when she got here. Tired, but fine.”
Sheriff Sutherland shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s true. I’m saying it’s out there, and I thought you should know since she’s here and since she’s your sister.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell us? If something was wrong—” Caleb stopped and looked at Wes, something shifting in his expression. “You spent time with her this morning. Did she say anything to you?”
Wes considered his answer. “She didn’t have to say anything. I saw the headlines.”
“Did you ask her about it?”
He nodded. “She didn’t tell me anything specific. But I also didn’t press her for answers.”
Caleb held his gaze. “What’s your guess as to why she’s not telling us?”
“Pride, maybe,” Wes said. “She bet everything on going to Hollywood to make it big. She left when most people were telling her it couldn’t be done, that she was wasting her time. If something went wrong, admitting it would mean admitting they were right.”
Wes had been one of those people. Not one of the ones who’d doubted her talent. He’d never questioned that, not for a second. But he’d told her not to go, and the memory of that conversation hadn’t faded the way he’d expected it to over the years.
It had been a late summer evening. The air had still been warm, and the two of them had stood outside with everything about to change, yet neither of them had been willing to say it directly.
I just don’t want to watch it happen to you, he’d said.
Watch what happen? Rowan had blinked up at him, honestly looking confused.
What Hollywood does to people. That place takes everything you have to give and asks for more.
Rowan had looked at him with equal parts warmth and iron. Then I won’t let it.
Wes had wanted to believe her.
But he hadn’t.
And now she was here—the very thing he’d been afraid of happening to her had clearly happened. Even if she wouldn’t admit it.
The industry hadn’t broken her. But something had.
Sheriff Sutherland’s voice pulled him back. “Do you think she’s in danger?”
Caleb’s jaw worked for a moment before he answered. “I don’t know. She seems more open to discussing what’s been happening here.”
Sheriff Sutherland looked toward the house. “Considering the women you have staying here, the possibility she is in danger is something that should be addressed.”
Wes followed his gaze.
He had a point.
But what were they going to do about it?
The drive back to Refuge Cove felt shorter than the drive into town.
Blue Ridge Hollow was exactly as Rowan had remembered it.
The town felt refreshing, like one of the first places she’d been to in a long time that was filled with real people.
She was used to Hollywood sets where people plastered on broad smiles and seemed friendly because they were paid to act that way.
Her mind drifted back to her childhood growing up in this area. She had so many happy memories. Life had felt entirely less complicated back then.
“Remember our summers at Lake Anna?” Rowan asked.
“How could I forget?”
“Do you remember that time when Dad’s boat broke down, and we had to paddle back to shore on those inflatable rafts?”
Naomi laughed. “We were struggling out there for two hours.”
“Caleb kept insisting he knew a shortcut.”
Rowan turned toward the window and watched the trees pass. Those summers at Lake Anna felt like another lifetime now. Her parents had rented a house every July, the same week every year without fail. All the siblings always got sunburned and argued over who got which bedroom.
She’d been so certain back then that everything worth having was somewhere ahead of her.
She wasn’t sure what that girl would think of her now.
Grace made a small sound from the back seat, and Naomi glanced in the mirror.
Then she went still.
The change was subtle—just a fraction of tension moving through her shoulders—but Rowan caught it.
“Naomi?”
“Don’t turn around.” Naomi’s voice stayed even and measured. But her eyes flicked to the mirror again. “Red truck. Two cars back.”
Rowan’s stomach dropped. “Travis.”
“Yes.”
“How long has he been back there?”
“I’m not sure. I just saw him.” Naomi’s hands shifted on the wheel. “But he may have been there longer.”
Rowan stared at the road ahead, every instinct telling her to look back.
“This isn’t the first time,” Naomi murmured.
Something in her tone made Rowan look at her. “What do you mean?”
“A few months ago, he rammed my SUV while I was driving home. On purpose—though he didn’t admit it. He wanted to scare me, to send a message.”
Rowan stared at her. “Naomi—”
“Micah knows.” Her voice stayed flat. “I filed a report, of course.”
Rowan looked at the road ahead, her chest tight. “Is he still back there?”
Naomi checked the mirror. “Yes.”
Rowan braced herself for whatever might happen next.