Checking Holly Twice, page 2
I turned off the car’s radio. The bell from an idyllic white church with a tall steeple and double red doors decorated with large garlands chimed out the time. Noon on Christmas Eve. I was supposed to be getting ready for my wedding about now. Our ceremony was supposed to be at four on Christmas Eve. A lavish affair in Maui. Was it a coincidence that I’d come to someplace so cold? I was running on instincts these days, so who knew?
White lights draped across the main street and wrapped around vintage lampposts. Snow-covered brick buildings hosted quaint stores, including a candy shop, bakery, wine shop, and kitchen store. Bundled-up skaters flew around an outdoor ice rink in the middle of the main part of town. Windows from a bar named the Twisted Tinsel twinkled with blue lights. And garlands were everywhere.
I sighed with relief. This was it. I could stay here and do whatever it was one did in a town like this. A perfect place to spend the holiday week hiding and licking my wounds. No one would care a bit about someone like me. I could blend in, even if I had to wear a baseball cap and hoodie.
Maybe I could find my sparkle again. Did I ever have any? My mother had certainly thought so when she sent me to my first commercial audition at only five years old. That one booking had turned into another dozen and then a situation comedy on one of the cable networks. Before I knew what was happening, I was famous at ten years old. Growing up in front of America isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Every zit and awkward moment is captured on camera forever. The internet never dies, either. Any real-life awkwardness was also captured by intrusive photographers and gossip rags. By a miracle and my mother’s controlling watch, I managed to stay out of trouble. After the show that had made me famous, Only Holly, ended, I had several parts as the teenage daughter in big movies. In the second one, I proved I could actually act. I was a bona fide movie star, well respected and sought after. Yet I’d been empty and lonely until I’d met Rhett.
And there was my mother. Not today, I told myself. I would put her out of my mind and try to enjoy this beautiful village.
A kitchen shop caught my eye. Cooking was my hobby and stress reliever. Now that I’d have to find a new place to live since Rhett and I broke up, I would do some Christmas shopping for myself. A town like this would probably appreciate a little money to stimulate the economy. I passed by an inn with a no-vacancy sign. Surely a town like this had another inn or two?
Since the story broke, I’d been hounded by the press. They’d camped outside my house, snapping photographs anytime I went out for errands or to the gym. My neighbor in Malibu, Gennie Banks, had told me to go north. “Get out of the zoo for a bit. Clear your head. Figure out what you want to do after the film shoot coming up in Italy.” The role of a lifetime, I’d told her. Which meant I couldn’t take my broken heart to set. I needed to get myself together, or I might blow the best role I’d ever been offered.
A copper set of pots and pans caught my eye in the window of the kitchen shop. When I turned my gaze back to the street and saw the red light as well as a woman pushing a stroller through the crosswalk, I slammed on my brakes. The car, seeming no heavier than a tin of mints, slid sideways. I tried to straighten, but it was too late. I slammed into a parked truck, then bounced like a rubber ball across the street and hit another. The car careered back to the other side of the street into a lamppost and finally came to a stop. My body flew forward. I smacked my forehead into the steering wheel before the airbag went off, trapping me against the seat. Black dots danced before my eyes before coming together into complete darkness.
I woke to a man’s face glowering at me. A gorgeous if somewhat craggy face with eyes that might be dark green or maybe brown. Thick eyelashes and dark, brooding brows and an impatient set to his mouth made him appear either angry or just permanently grumpy. Was I in his arms? Yes, I was. Those were strong arms under his puffy jacket.
“Hello?” Snow fell onto my cheeks and caught in my eyelashes. My head hurt. I touched my fingertips against my forehead and felt that a bump had already formed.
We came to a bench outside a coffee shop, where he set me down and then dropped to his knees in front of me. Despite all the aches, the pleasant scent of coffee wafted outside when someone opened the door to enter. “Are you hurt? Does anything feel broken?” A gruff voice that matched his rugged features and the stubble on his face. He looked down at me with the eyes of a man who had seen a thing or two. Bad things. My empathy spiraled. I knew this kind of person. He was like me.
But no, he wasn’t. He was large and burly, and his anger seemed directed toward me. Now that my head had cleared somewhat, I could see that clearly.
“My head hurts,” I mumbled, hoping for a little sympathy. I had a bad feeling it was his truck I’d smashed. How much damage had I done?
“That’s what happens when you smack it against a steering wheel. Did you learn how to drive yesterday?”
“Two months ago,” I said.
“Are you bloody kidding me?”
Two children with cherubic faces and pink cheeks ran up to us. A set of deep brown eyes and another of light green peered at me from under the brims of red knit caps. Combined, those colors would make the hue of the eyes of my grumpy rescuer.
“Uncle Forest, is the lady hurt?” The voice came from the high-pitched, lilting voice of the boy. I guessed him to be around eight. I’d worked on set with kids about his age a lot over the years.
Forest. His name was Forest? A little on the nose for this mountain town. Did his mother have a sense of humor, or was it a dead-serious type of name? “Am I all bloody? I feel bloody.” The pain came in waves, as if I were a clove of garlic in a press.
“No blood,” Forest said. “Just a bump the size of an Easter egg.”
“Oh no. They won’t like that.” Strict instructions had come from the director. No tan and no tattoos before filming started. They wanted me white and pasty. Vanilla, the director had said, for a suburban housewife on vacation in Italy secretly addicted to opiates.
“They?” Forest asked. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those nuts who believe in UFOs.”
“Huh?”
He scowled in answer.
“I meant for my job coming up.” Either the bump or my low blood sugar made me feel as if I were outside my body watching a very strange film.
“You have a job?” Forest asked, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Of course I do.” I squinted down at him. He didn’t know who I was. Maybe no one else here would, either.
Forest pointed at my black pumps, which I thought paired nicely with my ripped skinny jeans. Apparently, this Forest did not agree. “Why in the name of all that’s holy would you be wearing those shoes? It’s December.” He said the word those in a way that made me think of mucus.
“I drove here from LA.” In fact, my toes had gone completely numb. “I didn’t really plan on going this far north.”
“LA. Of course you’re from California.” He cursed under his breath.
“Uncle Forest, language.” This came from the little girl.
“Sorry, Ruby.”
“I like your shoes.” Ruby gave me a shy smile. “When I grow up, I’ll have shoes like that too. I’m Ruby. That’s my brother Dane and my Uncle Forest.” She leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Sometimes he’s a grumpy bear, but don’t let it scare you.”
“Nice to meet you, Ruby.” I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself as I whispered back to her, “Your uncle’s right that this isn’t really the best weather to wear them in.”
“Are you cold?” Ruby’s light brown hair hung down her back in a long, loose braid. Strands had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. A beauty. She could be on television. That’s what my mother would see, anyway. An opportunity for cash. As I’d been.
“A little.” The combination of adrenaline, fear, and cold had made my teeth start to chatter.
Forest shrugged out of his thick jacket. “Here, put this on. Your California blood is obviously extremely thin.”
“It’s like thirty degrees.” What was this guy’s problem, anyway? “Anyone would be cold.” Despite my annoyance, I let him wrap me in his jacket, which smelled of pine and a tangy aftershave. The smell of a man. He looked like a man, too. A real one, not just one who played one on television. Is that how they made them up here in Canada?
Ruby tore her cap from her head and thrust it at me. “Uncle Forest says we should always wear hats.”
“A lot of heat’s lost through the head,” Dane said, sounding much older than his years. He held up his hands. “Would you like my gloves? They’re about the right size.”
I smiled at him, despite the throbbing pain in my head. “You’re very sweet, but I’m fine. Ruby, please put your hat back on. You don’t want to catch a cold.”
“That’s a myth,” Dane said. “Uncle Forest said people’s mothers always say that but it’s not really true.”
“We don’t have a mom,” Ruby said. “Or a dad. They died when I was a baby. Uncle Forest is our mom and dad now.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out before realizing that it might sound as if I was sorry they were stuck with their uncle the grouch. “About your parents.”
“We don’t even remember them,” Ruby said. “So you don’t have to be sorry.”
Forest cleared his throat. “Do you think you need to see a doctor?”
“No, I’m fine. I should probably get going. I have to find a pretzel.” I tried to stand, but my legs felt wobbly and unsteady, so I sat back down with a thud. Getting out of here was not going to be as easy as I’d hoped.
“A pretzel? What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Grumpy Forest’s thick eyebrows drew together in a look of definite irritation. He pointed at my car, which was now a smashed mess. Was that steam coming out of the engine? “Do you see that? You’re not going anywhere unless it’s walking on those silly shoes.”
“I wanted a pretzel. That’s why I stopped here.” Black dots once more danced before my eyes. I blinked them away and willed myself to stay present. What if I had a concussion or something and fell asleep? I might never wake up. Would anyone even care? I’d thought Rhett cared until he decided he’d rather have Nicki Roland. I sighed, trying not to cry. Maybe I should just go to sleep. This grumpy man could carry my frozen body out to a field, and that would be that.
“Do you want me to call a tow truck?” Forest asked. “I’m assuming you can pay for one, given that car.”
“Yes, please. Is there a shop around here that can repair it?”
“Lady, there isn’t much hope for that. Given the state of your very tiny and ridiculous car, you’re not getting out of here until after the holidays. The auto shops are all closed for Christmas, and God knows the insurance company won’t help until they’re good and ready. Eventually, the insurance company will total it and you’ll have to buy another car before you can get out of this place. Who knows how long that’ll take.”
“Insurance?” I asked.
“Yeah, insurance. Jesus, you’re insured, aren’t you?” He raked a hand through this thick dark hair.
“Oh yes, of course. I think my assistant did that when he went to get the car.”
Forest shook his head. “I knew it. You’re rich.”
“Yeah, so what?” I stuck out my chin in what I hoped looked like strength but was probably closer to defensiveness. “Am I supposed to apologize for that?”
“At any rate, you’re stuck here for the holidays,” Forest said.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’ve no place else to go anyway.”
A flicker of empathy crossed Forest’s face, but he quickly hid whatever compassion he had for me behind another scowl. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“How would I have a place to stay? I told you I just stopped for a pretzel.” I wasn’t about to give this guy the satisfaction of knowing I had wanted to stay here before my unfortunate accident.
“We have an inn,” Ruby said. “And no one at all is staying there after Uncle Forest accidentally poisoned someone.”
“You have an inn?” He’d poisoned someone? A girlfriend? Ex-wife? A customer?
“It’s a bed-and-breakfast,” Forest said. “Not an inn. And I allegedly gave someone food poisoning. Yelp doesn’t care if you’re guilty. They just let whatever jerk post whatever they want.”
“Tell me about it.” I looked from one face to the other. Dane looked like a small version of his uncle. A less grouchy one. Ruby was pretty with flushed cheeks and an upturned nose. If either of them had been my mother’s children, they’d already be on television.
“All the inns are booked,” Dane said, speaking for the first time. “So you’ll have to stay at our place.” He sounded like a grown-up instead of a third grader.
“I can’t leave the scene of the accident,” I said. “I hit someone’s truck.”
“My truck,” Forest said. “You hit my truck.”
“Oh, it’s your truck?” An unfortunate turn of events. “How bad is it?” I asked meekly.
“You smashed part of the bed, but it’ll run. Thankfully, or I’d be in deep trouble. Some of us actually need our vehicles for our livelihood.”
“I’ll replace it. The whole truck if need be. I’m very sorry.” I looked up at him, hoping my sincerity would make him less angry.
It didn’t.
“You can bet your sweet ass you will.”
Sweet ass? That was something, anyway.
A Mountie wearing one of those cute Canadian hats approached. “Hey, Forest. Kids.” A chapped, reddened face told me he’d spent a lot of winters outside. “Is this the little lady who hit our lamppost?”
“And my truck,” Forest said.
“I’ll pay for everything.” The spots were back, taunting me with all their bouncing.
“Is she drunk?” This came from the Mountie, who had now leaned down to get a better look at me.
“No, not drunk. Very hungry, thank you very much.” My stomach growled as if to prove the truth in my statement.
“Wait a minute. I know you,” the Canadian cop said. “You’re that actress from television. The one Rhett Wood dumped for the other one. What’s her name? The real skinny one.”
I groaned and closed my eyes. Why, why, why had I ever thought I could get away from the humiliation? No matter where I went, people found me. Soon, it would spread all over town that pathetic Holly Turner, dumped for the much more acclaimed and thinner actress, Nicki Roland, was here. The idiot who crashed her car into the lamppost. I’d never escape. I might as well just walk into one of these Canadian lakes and not come back up to the world.
“She’s famous?” Dane asked.
“Right, I forgot your uncle doesn’t let you near any screens,” Mountie John said. “Yeah, she’s real famous.” He turned back to me. “I’m Mountie John. Nice to meet you.”
All three sets of eyes studied me. While the children looked at me with only curiosity, Forest appeared skeptical. I could almost hear his thoughts—how could this mess ever be in front of a camera?
“Anyway, Miss Turner, don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll get this car over to the shop. My brother owns the tow truck and I can drag him out of the Twisted Tinsel to get it over there.”
“I’ll call my insurance,” I said. Or I’d have my assistant do it.
“You can do it online,” Mountie John said. “Easy peasy. You have one of those tablets with you?”
“I have my laptop,” I said.
“You just log in to your account then,” Mountie John said.
I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about. I’d picked out the car I wanted, and Ryan had done the rest. But I’d have to take care of this. He deserved a week off from my nonsense.
“Could I stay at your inn…bed-and-breakfast?” I asked. “Until the first of the year? That’ll give me time to figure out the whole car thing.”
“We don’t have a television,” Forest said.
“Uncle Forest thinks they’re evil,” Dane said. “Or at least the phonies who are on the television.”
“He’s probably right about that,” I said. “Anyway, it’s not a problem. I have a bunch of books on my laptop to read.”
“I’m right about most things,” Forest said. “Right, kids?”
Ruby smiled sweetly but didn’t answer.
“He’s only kidding,” Dane said to me. “Uncle Forest does nothing but second-guess all his moves.”
“Dane, that’s enough,” Forest said. “I do have a room if you’d like, but I have to tell you—the reviews about my cooking haven’t been good.”
“Food poisoning?” I asked.
“That happened once, and I think the idiot was actually hungover and trying to save face with his girlfriend.”
“We did serve shrimp at the happy hour, though,” Dane said. “I read in the encyclopedia that shellfish go bad rather quickly.”
“About that room?” I asked. “Would you be able to give me a lift out there?”
“How else would you get there?” Forest offered me a calloused hand and lifted me to my feet. “Girl, you need some gloves and a good jacket.”
“Do you sell those at your inn?”
He closed his eyes and grimaced as if I were the biggest idiot on the planet. “No, it’s not that kind of inn.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I kept my mouth shut and followed him over to my car to get my suitcases. This was going to be a long week.
2
Forest
This day wasn’t going at all how I’d thought it would. I had Holly Turner in my truck. Apparently, she was a famous American actress. I’d never heard of her. All I knew was that her two enormous suitcases were in the bed of my truck. I don’t know how long she’d planned on being away, but given the weight of them it appeared to be about six months. She’d looked at them with a worried look when I’d tossed them in the back as if the exposure to a little snow would work through the plastic and ruin her precious designer clothes. What she should worry about were those impractical pumps barely concealing bare feet. She could get frostbite and lose a toe. Maybe I’d mention that to her later, I thought, irritated. As much as I’d taken an immediate dislike to her and wished she wasn’t coming home with us on Christmas Eve, it was good that we’d have a paying guest. If she stayed until the new year, I might be able to make the mortgage.
