The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

He’d even felt a little hopeful when he’d finally pulled into Pine River yesterday. It was high forties, a bright, sunny day, and he’d decided he wouldn’t mind spending a little time here, maybe taking a trip over to one of the ski valleys one day. If Emma was going to run from Carl, this was a good place to go.

It hadn’t taken too much digging to find out where, exactly, Emma had gone. She’d actually told her boss about Homecoming Ranch. “I remember it had such an interesting name,” the woman had said.

The drive out to the ranch had perked Cooper up. It was about eight miles out of Pine River, an old mining town that had sprung up on the valley floor high in the Colorado mountains. The mines were long gone, and the town had turned itself into a tourist destination for summer mountain sports. As the ski valleys were too far away to be considered convenient to Pine River, winter was the off-season for Pine River.

The ranch setting was a gorgeous location, a perfect postcard of welcome to the Colorado mountains. The house itself was set in a stand of alder trees, up against the mountain and Ponderosa pines. It was old and in obvious need of repair, but it still had its charm. The roof was a collection of steeply angled pitches over various rooms and floors. The ground floor of the house was built with stone, and the second story, which looked to have been added on at some point, was made of tongue-and-groove logs. Large plate-glass windows lined the front of the house and reflected the snow-capped mountains rising up across the valley.

In between the house and a red barn was a grassy area enclosed by cottonwoods. Faded Chinese lanterns had been strung through the trees, and three picnic tables were situated under the branches. From one tree, a tire swing spun lazily.

The only jarring element to the picturesque setting was the empty tent pads and partially constructed cabin.

Cooper had another look at them as he drove away from the ranch.

He drove out the gate marking the entrance to the property, and down the narrow, two-lane road that wended down to the valley. He passed beneath pines, spruce, and cottonwoods, past empty meadows. Eli was right—there could be some great opportunities for TA here. As the weather was abnormally warm and dry, Cooper was going to enjoy poking around once he was through with Emma.

Minutes later, Pine River came into view. Cooper entered the older part of town where houses sat beneath towering elms on streets laid out on a grid. It looked like Anywhere, America, with bungalow houses and neat yards. Cooper tried to imagine Emma Tyler living in this town, but he couldn’t see it. She didn’t fit. Cooper wasn’t sure where Emma fit, actually, but it damn sure wasn’t Middle America. It occurred to him that she might require her own planet.

She’d been shocked to see him, perhaps even a bit frightened, her eyes going wide. She had seemed to him even skinnier than the last time he’d seen her, and he wondered, why didn’t the girl just eat? He didn’t understand what was in her head. She was beautiful. He guessed that she pulled down a very good salary given her status at CEM, and was obviously good at what she did. She had everything going for her, but had a reputation for sleeping around, having a strange, distant demeanor, and merely tolerating everyone and everything around her.

All of those rumors were so wildly incongruent with the package of her that it intrigued Cooper in a don’t-get-this sort of way. Maybe because he’d had a very different experience with her at the Applebaum bat mitzvah. She’d been sunny and engaging, and he’d really liked her . . . until that bizarre ending in the kiddie lounge.

And then, the kicker. There she’d been, in Reggie’s limo. He would never forget her in the window of that limo, or her expression, framed in his mind’s eye now. She’d looked resigned. Distant. Like the Emma of the kiddie lounge had checked out, and had been replaced by a sullen Barbie doll.

She’d obviously been unpleasantly surprised by him today. So why hadn’t she just handed over the damn medal and sent him on his way? That’s what he’d do if he were in her shoes—he’d just give the thing back and get on with life. Surely she knew he hadn’t come all this way on a hunch. Surely she knew that he was certain she had it.

Cooper found Elm Street easily enough. The houses on this street looked a little older and more weather-beaten than some of the newer houses Cooper had seen on the edge of town. The houses were a midcentury style, with shutters and window awnings, their garages detached and suitable for only one car. He spotted a green house at the end of the block, a chain-link fence bounding the property. In the drive was a maroon-colored passenger van with elaborate flames painted up the sides. Cooper wondered idly what sort of business that was supposed to represent.