Chapter 6
My head spins like a cheap plastic top. Round and round, until it twists right off the table into oblivion.
What does Twelve Bluebells Ranch mean for me? A simple catalyst to consider new options? Or is the land somehow my alba? My dawn. My beginning.
What the heck would I do with a full functioning ranch? “Native Texan” doesn’t mean we’re all born with cowboy hats and spurs attached to our bodies.
Without my prompting, Prissy cancels the last two property showings to give my brain a rest.
We agree to touch base later, though I make no promises about my ability to express coherent thoughts. When I say goodbye, I picture her snapping her fingers to transform from her magic jeans back to her power realtor uniform.
While cruising through the lobby, I decide I need to figure out when the hotel shuttle leaves next.
I want to make a visit to the Cheyenne Zoo.
A stroll in the fresh air will get my blood pumping and help sort things out in my head.
Plus, they revamped the elephants’ section since my last trip, and I want to check out the new digs.
On my way to find a hotel shuttle, through the hustle of the arriving crowd, I clock Harlan in a corner talking on his phone. Heat flushes my face, my pulse picks up, and I stop in my tracks.
Dressed in business casual khaki pants, he looks quite dapper today. The white oxford shirttail hanging casually underneath his navy sweater presents a boyish air. However, he’s all man.
What is the appropriate behavior? Do I smile at him as I pass? Or am I supposed to stay and talk to him? What’s the protocol for someone famous who is starting to become familiar on vacation but you probably won’t ever see again?
I don’t have that manual.
I approach him, gritting my teeth as I prepare to act normal.
Look at me, I’m really growing.
Running his hands through his hair, face contorted in frustration, Harlan pulls his phone down and stares at it.
Two teenage boys shove a piece of paper and pen in his face. Harlan gives them a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes while he signs his name and says something that makes them all chuckle.
His acquiescence is generous, but I find myself wondering what it costs him to interact with passing fans. Then I think about me standing there waiting to . . . what? Talk to him?
Nope. I’m not growing anymore. I start to turn on my heel to retreat before I also look like a fan.
Harlan jerks his head up and spots me. “Hey there.” A tight smile accompanies his greeting.
Oh-kay. Apparently we’re doing this. I’m going to speak with Harlan like a regular human being.
My hand offers a small wave, and I take another stride forward. “Hi. Um, hi.”
He says nothing, and I realize my epic mistake. I was just going to say hi. And now I’ve accomplished my goal. I was so focused on the one word I wanted to say to him, I had not created an exit plan, and the longer we stand together, the more awkward I feel.
“Um,” I say brilliantly while I stall to find something else to say, “are you . . . still recovering from your loss last night?”
I did, in fact, beat him at Skee-Ball, thus proving no skill is required to play the game.
Without responding, Harlan surveys the lobby. Stress seems to come off him in waves, like heat rising from a sidewalk during a Texas summer.
One small step closer and I lower my voice. “Is everything all right?”
“Not exactly.” He glances at his watch and releases an exasperated breath.
That’s when I catch sight of her.
Giant brown eyes, set in the precious face of a little girl dressed in pink skinny jeans and a waffle shirt, peer at me from around Harlan’s pant leg.
“Well, hello there.” I crouch down and grin. “I love the monkey on your shirt.”
She shies away from me, hiding behind Harlan.
“My name is Meredith. What’s your name?”
Three dainty fingers shove into her mouth and impede her answer. “Owlex.”
“How old are you, Alex?”
Those same fingers, now covered in saliva, outstretch in front of her. “Thwee.”
I gasp in dramatic awe. “Three. You’re such a big girl.”
Glancing up, I do a double take. Another pair of beautiful brown eyes stare at me. But this set makes me nervous.
I use my knees as leverage to stand. “Is she the president of the PHHFC?”
Harlan’s brow furrows.
“Preschool Harlan Holcombe Fan Club.”
He rubs his chin. “She’s my daughter.”
My expression freezes as the statement tries to penetrate. An instant later, something in my heart squeezes.
“Oh, wow. What a cutie patootie.” Of course she’s his daughter. The eyes and hair color are an exact match. Does Alex’s smile mirror her daddy’s gorgeous one?
Harlan returns his focus to his phone.
“Harlan?”
His eyes dart to mine.
“I don’t think you answered my earlier question. Is everything all right?”
We both glance down at Alex, who rummages through a small pink backpack.
Harlan shifts toward me. “She’s been having sleepovers with my mom, who brought her by to have breakfast with me this morning.
” He nods to Alex. “Little Bit’s mom was supposed to come pick her up, but I just got off the phone with her, and she can’t be bothered with it right now. She’s not the most dependable person.”
My brain is conflicted between compassion for Harlan and the mayday signals his proximity is causing me.
His gaze flits around the room, never settling on a person for long.
“I’ve got an important production meeting this morning, and my assistant, Penelope, is off-site, so she can’t bail me out.
I called Sally, but the group is on a field trip riding the train to Pike’s Peak.
The hotel staff is trying to find someone, but they’re swamped with two new shuttles of arrivals, and no telling if or when help would be available.
” His jaw tics. “This is so like Olivia. I cannot believe . . .”
I imagine a deep thicket of history behind the words he doesn’t say.
Ignoring the tension in Harlan’s body language, a woman walks by and snaps a photo without asking permission. Harlan takes a protective side step to conceal Alex’s presence and gazes down at the floor.
I glare at the clueless tourist, wondering again what fame costs Harlan. “How long is your appointment?”
“I’m not sure. We’re meeting with a college buddy of mine, Landry McKay. He’s an FBI agent and serves in a consulting capacity for the movie. It depends on his availability, but if I had to guess, we should finish up midafternoon.” He shakes his head. “I’ll just skip it.”
With a deep breath, I find some confidence and make my proposal. “Okay, listen. I know you don’t know me well, but I can take Alex. I don’t carry a résumé with me, but if you need a professional reference, call Sally.”
He cringes. “Meredith—”
“Harlan, I’m serious.” I lean forward and rest my hand on his arm. “I can take her.”
Harlan’s eyes travel from his phone, to Alex, to my hand, and back to my face.
Before I hyperventilate or he files a restraining order, I let go of him. “I was about to leave for the z-o-o.” I have no clue if Alex can spell. But if Harlan says no and she wants to go to the zoo, he’ll have anarchy on his hands. “I’d love to take her with me.”
He squints, and I’m just sure that red splotches are climbing up my neck. I either need to move forward or bail.
Mommy mode takes over. “Bottom-line these details for me. Any food issues or allergies?”
“No.”
“Does she take a daily nap?”
“Rest time at 2:00.”
“Has she eaten breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Is she potty trained?”
“Yes.”
Thank God. “Is her backpack stocked for the day?”
“A change of clothes, extra shoes, light jacket, her blankie, lunch, some emergency snacks, and a sippy cup.”
“Impressive.”
Harlan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, I can’t predict what Olivia will or won’t have. Sometimes I’m parenting them both. But I can’t take credit. Penelope packed the bag.”
I scrunch up my nose. Olivia sounds like no walk in the park I want to take.
Harlan crouches down and explains the new plan to Alex.
She glances up at me, and I wink and flash an overenthusiastic smile.
When he finishes, he stands and slides a room key out of his back pocket and hands it to me. My heart stops beating. This feels like a complete lack of judgment on his part. It also feels like the opening to a stalker movie starring myself.
“If you guys come back here, use my suite,” he says. “Rest time will be easier with all her stuff in her own room.” He taps at his phone. “What’s your phone number?”
Numbly, I give it to him. The stalker movie feels more real.
“I just sent you a text with my room number,” he says as if that’s normal.
I turn my attention to the beautiful three-year-old at hand. If I focus on her, I can ignore that Hercules just sent me his number.
A strand of sadness from my past mars the overarching excitement about spending the day with a child. But I push through. I want to see what this day holds.
Harlan leans in and lowers his voice. “I need to tell you one more thing.”
I want to lean into the rumble of his voice. In an effort to focus, I blink.
He smells amazing.
In a second effort to focus, I blink again.
Seriously. I can never date again.
“Her mother is super unpredictable. Olivia was supposed to pick Alex up for the rest of the weekend. She might show up in an hour, she might not show up at all. I’m hoping you don’t have to interact with her, but I need to communicate to her where you’ll be in case she decides to be a parent today.
I want to warn you”—he shifts as if he’s uncomfortable—“she’s not entirely pleasant. ”
I give him a slight nod, hoping I’m masking my internal deer-in-the-headlights reaction.
Harlan takes one last unsure glance around and clutches the back of his neck with his hand. “You know what? Never mind. This is too much to ask you to do this. I can’t put you in this position.”
“Harlan, it’s fine.” I bend down to pick up Alex’s backpack and sling it over my shoulder.
“Alex and I are about to have a blast. I promise not to let her play with the lions or bring home a pet elephant. We will wash our hands, walk on the sidewalk, and eat healthy foods. And if I run into Olivia, I’m a big girl. I can hold my own.”
Smoldering eyes lock with mine, and he nods once. “I bet you can.”
I order whatever animal jumped in my stomach to cool it. “We’ll head back to your room afterwards for rest time. If Olivia changes her mind or your schedule changes, text me. We’re good. Promise.” I shoo him away with my hand. “Go be a big, famous movie star.”
Harlan levels his eyes at me as if he doesn’t like me calling him that. Then a small smile crosses his lips, and he shakes his head before he bends down to Alex. “Okay, beautiful. Have so much fun at the zoo today. Make sure you obey Miss Meredith.”
Alex captures her daddy’s cheeks, both of her little girl hands splayed across them, and in her earnest child tone adds her goodbye. “I wuv you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Little Bit.”
My heart squeezes again, this time just a bit more.
Alex grasps my hand. “Let’s go, Miss Merweradith. I want to see the giwaffes!”
Smiling down at her, I feel something new. Different. I am at peace holding a child’s hand. I am at peace holding her hand. “How would you like to feed the giraffes?”
“Yes!” She jumps several big little-girl jumps.
“Meredith.” Harlan grabs my hand and squeezes. “Thank you. This is crazy. So just . . . thank you.”
Before I can respond, Harlan turns, scoops Alex up, and gives her one last giant hug.
I’m tempted to ask if I get one too.
Goodness. The animal that was jumping in my stomach just swooned.
We need to leave. Now.