Harvest Moon

Three




While Lief drove Kelly to the big Victorian in which her sister lived, Kelly was semi-passed out. But she mumbled and muttered the whole way.

He had certainly understood everything she said right up until she put her head down on the bar. Sounded like she’d had a fling with a guy she thought was available but who turned out to be very married. Oh, such an ordinary tale. Men told that story all the time. Why men stayed married to women they wanted to cheat on, Lief had no idea. Up until he’d met Lana, he’d never been in a serious relationship; he always had a woman around, was playing the field, having a little fun, but hadn’t been engaged or married. When he met her he had instantly known two things—she was the one, and he’d never want another one. In fact, here he was, widowed a little over two years, and he hadn’t been tempted even once. Of course, he had Courtney. Hard to think about anything but getting through another day.

But this lovely Kelly had gotten his attention the second she’d walked into the bar. He’d felt a little zing just looking at her. She was pretty, very fresh and lush. And nothing like Lana, which came as a relief. He wasn’t sure he could ever feel the slightest response to any woman after losing Lana. Lana had been small, dark-haired with dark eyes. Kelly was blonde, blue-eyed, had a round, full figure, and his first thought had been what it would feel like to get his hands on her, to hold her body up against his. That soft, rich, luxurious body. She didn’t have one of those Hollywood bodies—too thin with fake perky boobs. She had a real woman’s body—something to hold on to. And that mouth—full pink lips. The second he’d seen her lips, he had licked his.

Then he’d recovered his sanity and had just listened to her for a while. Sounded as if she’d gotten screwed, literally and figuratively.

The front light was on and there were two people standing on the porch waiting, no doubt in response to Jack’s call. That would be Colin and Jillian, the sister and her boyfriend. He got out of the truck, and Jillian was right there. Lief recognized her once he saw her. In fact, that’s when he realized he’d seen both the sisters at Jack’s last summer when he’d been checking on the progress of his house purchase.

“What happened?” she asked him.

“Well, I think this probably took your sister by complete surprise,” he said. “She mentioned she’d been to the doctor for something or other, and when her speech started to slur before she finished her second drink, I asked her if she’d been given some prescription medication and she said she had. So—I don’t think she realized…”

“Doctor?” Jillian asked. “Medication? She’s sick?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Lief said. “Listen, I don’t want to say too much right now. For all I know it was the drink talking, I could’ve gotten the details all wrong or something. Let her tell you why she’s up here unannounced, okay?”

“Colin?” Jillian said.

But Colin was already opening the passenger door, unbuckling Kelly and lifting her out. Lief felt a momentary pang; he’d like to be the one holding her.

“I’ll carry her up to the bedroom, Jilly,” Colin said. “You grab her purse and anything else that goes with her.”

“There’s just the purse,” Lief said, reaching into the truck for it. “Her car is locked up at the bar.”

“Should I call the doctor?” Jillian asked him.

Lief shrugged. “She’s breathing fine. She was talking all the way out here. Maybe you could look through her purse, see if there are pills or anything that, mixed with a couple of martinis, might knock her for a loop. You could call a pharmacy and ask about the effects if you find anything. I didn’t think to do that…”

“Martinis?” Jill asked. “Really? Martinis?”

“Oh, yeah, she was very specific. A good, quality, chilled vodka married to four big green olives.”

“Wow. She doesn’t do that often.”

“She said you weren’t expecting her and she had a lot to explain.”

“I’d really like to know.”

“I’m sure you will know—first thing in the morning.”

“Can I, ah, offer you a cup of coffee or anything?”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you. I need to get home. I’ll come by sometime tomorrow…just to see if she’s doing all right. And if you’re doing all right. Her car is full of her stuff.” He grinned. “Kind of looked like she’s planning to stay awhile.”

“That’s okay,” Jill said. “That’s good. But—”

“I imagine her keys are in her purse.”

“Thanks. Gee, I wish there was some way I could repay the favor…”

“No big deal. Jack would’ve brought her home, I’m sure. But the bar was full of customers, so I offered.” He looked around from where he stood beside his truck. He whistled. “Looks like an interesting place.”

She smiled at him. “It’s shaping into a real commercial organic farm. When we get things under control, I’ll have you out for a tour. You can grab the last of our crop—harvest is wrapping up. We’re concentrating on melons and berries now.”

“No kidding?” he asked with a smile. “How come I didn’t know about this place?”

“I’ve only been here since last spring. I’ve been farming a small plot through summer, just to see what I can grow. Now we’re getting more farming space prepared for spring. Maybe I’ll show you around when you come back tomorrow.” Pausing for a minute as if in thought, she said, “I hope Kelly is okay…”

“Go see for yourself. Call Doc Michaels if you’re worried. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“Thanks again,” she said, and while he got back in the truck, she hightailed it up the porch stairs and into the house.

Lief glanced at the dashboard clock as he turned to watch the road as he backed out. Eight o’clock. It seemed much later. He hoped he’d given Courtney enough time to calm down and get her homework done.

He worried whether he’d made the right decision, bringing her here, a place that made a one-horse town look like a metropolis. A strange little Goth kid like Courtney didn’t look as out of place in a big city.

Rural Idaho had been the other option for them, where his parents still owned the family farm, though they were retired. He had two brothers and a sister there, all older than he was, married with families, all living not too far from the farm. But truthfully, he’d been afraid to do that. Courtney was so crazy sometimes, he didn’t want to expose his family, his nieces and nephews, to her antics. Okay, to be honest, he didn’t want them to see how dismally he was failing her.

His sister had said, “Lief, don’t put yourself through this! Pack her up, take her to her father, let him figure it out.”

He couldn’t do that. Poor Court. He’d seen the pain in her eyes each time she wandered from the home she’d had with her mother to the unwelcome space she had with her father. God, it ripped him up all over again each time.

When he pulled up the long drive to his house he saw that all the lights were on, a beat-up old Jeep sat in front of the house, and before he even turned off the truck engine he could hear the throbbing of acid rock.

Part of him hoped, almost against hope, he’d find Courtney sitting at the kitchen table with a rosy-cheeked, normal-looking teenage girl, the two of them doing homework together despite the fact that the music was deafening.

He entered the kitchen from the garage. There was a bottle on the breakfast bar that separated the great room from the kitchen—Corona, half full. He looked into the great room and saw a tall teenage boy in ratty jeans loading DVDs from Lief’s entertainment center into his backpack. No Courtney. The kid was stuffing the disks into the backpack so frantically it almost looked like a smash-and-grab, but instinctively Lief knew better.

He walked into the large room, picked up the remote from a sofa table and killed the music. The kid jumped up, his lanky hair swinging back from his face. Right at that exact moment, Courtney appeared in the entrance from the hall leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms, holding her own Corona.

“Lief!” she said.

The boy bolted, headed for the front door.

“B.A.! Bruce!” she yelled after him.

Lief merely stood there, observing the panic, the flight, the beer, the backpack that was abandoned. The front door opening and slamming closed was the only sound. When it was completely quiet, Courtney was the first to speak.

“Well, I suppose I’m grounded again.”

“What’s the point, Court? I don’t think you’ve been off restriction for a day in the past year.” He walked to the backpack and crouched, opening it. “You can give this back to your friend tomorrow at school. If he even attends school.” He reached inside and began to pull out the movie DVDs, stacking them on the floor. “Without the movies, of course.”

“I didn’t know he was doing that,” she said. “I just went to the bathroom.”

“How well do you know him?” Lief asked. Christ, the kid had managed to get about thirty discs in his backpack.

“I just know him from school, that’s all. We were just going to listen to music.”

“And drink beer.” He left the backpack and stood to face her.

“I bet you drank beer when you were a kid,” she said with a lift of her chin.

“At fourteen? Not hardly.” He’d had farm chores; he’d played football, even though he’d been small for his age then and had gotten the stuffing beaten out of him. “Jesus, Courtney. How far are you going to push me?”

“I said I didn’t know he was doing that!”

“Maybe you should think about getting some more trustworthy friends,” he suggested.

“Don’t you get it?” she said, stepping toward him. “Nobody likes me!”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he took another couple of steps toward her. He reached out and took the beer. “Will they like you better if you let them steal from us?”

“I didn’t,” she said, and there was a slight hiccup in her voice. “I just went to the bathroom.”

“How much has your friend had to drink?” Lief asked.

“Why?”

“Because he’s driving. Because he took off out of here like a bat out of hell and while I’d really like to tan his hide, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

She shrugged. “He just got here a little while ago. He brought two beers, that’s all.”

“Okay,” he said. He went to the kitchen and poured out both beers. He went back to the great room. “I’m going to my room to read for a while before bed. I’m going to set the house alarm. I’m really not up to chasing you down in the middle of the night, Courtney. I’ll see you in the morning. Luckily, you shouldn’t have a hangover.”

To his back she said, “I’m not going to sneak out.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Good,” he said. Then he went to his room.

Sometimes Lief didn’t know if he was more pissed or hurt by Courtney. He gave her everything he had. Why couldn’t she throw him a bone now and then? Just some small gesture like please or thank-you or even homework. It didn’t have to be good homework, even though he knew she was extremely intelligent. Just finished.

How long could she nurture the pain on the inside that made her so vile on the outside?

The house fell quiet again. Lief reclined on his lonely king-size bed, book in his lap. The vision of Courtney, all of fourteen but looking more like twelve, sneering at him over her beer kept obscuring the pages. He was going to have to get with that counselor, see if there was help for them. He was not optimistic—if he couldn’t find good therapy in Los Angeles, what were the chances he’d find it here?

In the morning, the first thing he did was head down the hall toward Courtney’s bedroom to be sure she was there. Fortunately, he didn’t have to go all the way to her room; he heard the shower in her bathroom. As he passed through the great room, he noticed the DVDs were put away. Put away or maybe stuffed back into the backpack for the little felon in question. He turned off the house alarm, made the coffee, headed for his own shower. She should be ready for school on time today; it didn’t take her long to mess up her multicolored hair.

When he got back to the kitchen, her homework and a note were on the table.

I made a copy of my homework for you to look at, but I’m taking the bus today so I left. Will you pick me up after school? Please.

Bone.



The very first rays of sunlight streaming into the window stirred Kelly from sleep. She sat up in bed and took stock of her surroundings—Jillian’s guest room. And there beside her in the bed, sleeping facedown, Jillian.

“Hey,” Kelly said, giving her a jostle.

Jill turned her head and peered at her through tangled hair. “Ugh. You’re up.”

“Last thing I remember, I was chatting it up with some cute guy at the bar. Over a killer martini.”

Jill pushed her hair out of her eyes. “It didn’t kill you. But it tried to kill me.”

“Huh?”

Struggling to a sitting position, Jill faced Kelly. “Do you realize what you did?”

Kelly let her eyes briefly close. “Gave myself a very large headache?”

“I went through your purse. You were taking both blood pressure medicine and antidepressants or something like that. Both bottles say alcohol could intensify the effects.”

“I can see that now.”

“I had to count the pills left to make sure you hadn’t OD’d. But I sat up and watched over you until you started to snore at about three in the morning. And boy, can you snore! I don’t think I’ve slept for ten whole minutes.”

“Oh, man,” Kelly said, rubbing her temples. “Who knew?”

“You know, if you’d had a little glass of wine, you might’ve gotten kind of tipsy. But a martini? Overkill.”

“I needed a shot of courage before dropping in on you and spoiling your hot new romance with Colin. And about those pills—I started the blood pressure stuff as directed, but the antianxiety pills were as needed. But I was feeling pretty anxious on the way up here, so I popped one. And I was still feeling pretty anxious a few hours later, so I had another one for good measure.”

“You’ll be happy to know you weren’t at all anxious by the time you got here.”

“Whew. Kind of scary to think I’d drive like that!”

“You didn’t. Your car is at the bar. The cute guy you were talking to brought you out here. Colin had to carry you to bed.”

“Oh, please tell me you’re making that up!”

“Not making it up. Now, what has you so anxious?”

“A lot has been going on for the last week. Can we have coffee? And aspirin? And I’ll tell you all about it. I might’ve really screwed up my life.”



Lief made phone contact with the counselor Jack had recommended and had an appointment for himself, after which he could go to Valley High School and pick up Courtney. On the way to Grace Valley, he decided to swing by Jillian’s big house to check on Kelly. He didn’t have to look far; he found her sitting by herself on the back porch, her feet drawn up and a throw wrapped around her shoulders.

He was grinning as he got out of his truck and approached her. “Well, you look none the worse for wear.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I guess it was too much to hope I’d never see you again.”

“Aw, I’m crushed,” he said. “I thought we bonded.”

“That’s one of the reasons I was hoping…”

“I’m glad you came through it. I wanted to check on you. You look fine.”

“Well, the bad news is, I don’t remember your name. The good news is, I do remember mine. That means I haven’t killed off too many brain cells.”

He chuckled and took the first step up the porch to lean against the post. “They grow back,” he said. “Takes a while, though. You could be dumb as shit for a couple of weeks.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I can live up to that.”

“How do you feel?”

“Dumb as shit,” she said. “See, I had this prescription for stuff that was supposed to make me less ‘anxious.’ I didn’t think it was working fast enough, so I took a second. Then I took a martini….”

“Almost two martinis, actually.”

“And you are?”

“Lief Holbrook. And you’re Kelly. And I gather you have no experience with drugs like that.”

“I have been addicted to food and love,” she said dismally.

“Ah, yes, the mentor-slash-lover,” he remembered.

“Really, did I tell you all that?”

“Enough so that I can honestly say I don’t need any more details. Sounds like you got screwed by a guy who told you he was available when he wasn’t. Legally, anyway, per the wife.”

“Oh, my God, I did tell you everything!”

In a flash of deep sympathy, Lief said, “That must have hurt you so much, Kelly. I’m really sorry.”

He saw the liquid begin to gather in her large blue eyes. He found it interesting that one so fair could have such thick, long, black lashes. “Yes. Well. Stupid me,” she said. “You’d almost have to believe I killed those brain cells months ago.”

“It’ll pass. Really.”

She wiped impatiently at her eyes. “I know. So. Do you have experience with these drugs?” she asked boldly.

“I took antidepressants for a short time and had a similar experience. Had a couple of beers one night and slept like a dead person. I woke up terrified that the house could have burned down without me knowing. A little depression was probably safer.”

She remembered suddenly. “That’s right, you lost your wife.”

“A little over two years ago. And yes, I took something for a while, not knowing how much it was really affecting me because I felt pretty much the same—devastated and pathetic. I haven’t taken anything since.”

“You recovered?”

“From being devastated and pathetic? God, I hope so. From depression? Probably. From missing her? Not yet. But I’m told that comes with time and gets easier.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thank you. You said that last night.”

“Must have come before my magnificent exit. Listen, can I offer you some tea?”

“Thanks, but I have an appointment to get to. But I’d really like to have a look at this place—the house, the grounds. Your sister said she’d give me a tour, treat me to the last of her crop…”

Kelly finally stood, pulling the wrap around her. “Jilly Farms, as she calls it. Organic fruits and vegetables. She’s out there now, working. Colin is upstairs in the sunroom, painting. He’s an artist, among other things. The house was renovated before she bought it—it’s enormous and very interesting. If you’d like to come back when you don’t have an appointment, she’d love to take you around the gardens and house and I…” She cleared her throat. “When my headache goes away, I’d be happy to cook for you. It’s what I do—cook.”

“That would be nice,” he said, smiling. “I’ll give you a few days, then call.”

“And I’ll tell Jill that I made us a date.”



As Lief was backing out of the drive, Kelly watched and ran a hand through her mussed hair. Must my life continue to be one big practical joke? If some hot guy was going to stop by to see if she was all right, why couldn’t she have at least pulled a comb through her wild hair? Or put on clothes?

Apparently she wasn’t too emotionally upset to notice his kind of thick, floppy, Robert Redford hair, square jaw and amused brown eyes that crinkled a little bit at the corners. He was one of those blond guys who tanned well. She’d noticed that, too. She especially liked his forearms. His long-sleeved denim shirt had been rolled up a bit, and the golden hair on his muscled forearms had glistened in the sunshine.

There was something else about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it. He was dressed like all the other Virgin River guys, but he had a way of making a pair of jeans and boots look classy. Maybe it was the way he spoke—well-educated and precise. He even sounded like a professor when he swore.

She smiled. Widowed, huh? she thought. Could be he was almost ready to get on with life. She shook her head and chuckled to herself. Maybe if they ran into each other a third time she could humiliate herself in some new way, just in case he needed convincing that she was a total flake.

But he was pretty hot.



The counselor’s simple Grace Valley house that Lief pulled up to didn’t exactly encourage him; he’d visited far flashier digs for therapists without getting a whole lot of help. Then there was the counselor himself—a very, very tall, skinny…no, make that boney, scarecrow with shaggy, almost white-blond hair and large ears. And the biggest feet Lief had ever seen. He hoped to God Courtney didn’t just flat out make fun of him. Right to his face.

“Mr. Holbrook, hello,” the man said cheerily, extending a hand in greeting. “I’m Jerry Powell. How are you today?”

“Fine,” he said, shaking the hand. “I mean, not fine. I’ve never figured out what you should say to a counselor on your first visit. That you’re fine or that you need help desperately?”

Jerry laughed. “Come on into the office, Mr. Holbrook, and tell me how I can help.”

When they were seated—Jerry behind the desk and Lief facing it—Lief just launched in. “Well, my wife died a couple of years ago and my stepdaughter’s not handling it well. Her biological father and stepmother didn’t embrace her, didn’t pull her into their family, and she’s depressed and—”

Jerry held up his hand, indicating he should stop. “Okay, hold on a sec, I apologize, I should have led this discussion. I realize you’re here on behalf of your stepdaughter and that the two of you have issues. Let me just tell you a couple of things before we get deeper into the issues.

“First of all, part of my function in this county is that I’m retained by the school district for court-ordered counseling of young adults. What that means is, I usually only know what they’ve done to warrant that penalty without getting many details about their personal lives, about what might’ve motivated them acting out. Sometimes I know there’s been abuse in the family, death or divorce, that sort of thing, but there’s no one to tell me how they’re feeling but them. And I have to let the adolescent try to explain what pushed them into the behavior that caused all the trouble. It’s amazing how well it seems to be working. So—to that end—give me the basic facts, address incidents or behaviors if you think it’s pertinent. And then tell me about you. About your feelings, not hers. You and I will talk. Then Courtney will give me her feelings.”

“I bet she won’t,” he said.

“I’m relentless,” he said, and then smiled. “Besides, adolescents really can’t identify too many feelings. They’re not being stubborn. It’s an acquired skill. They’re working on growing up. It’s one of those things they have to develop.”

“Okay, then. My wife died,” he said, starting over. “A little over two years ago. At first my stepdaughter… I think of her as a daughter… Courtney seemed to grieve painfully for a while, which was quickly followed by weird, antisocial behavior. She’s kind of Goth now with the kind of friends that lie and steal and lure her out after hours. I just caught her last night with an older guy in the house stealing my DVDs while she was in the bathroom. They were drinking beer. She’s fourteen but looks nine.”

“Nine?”

“Not nine, maybe, but so small. She’s so little to act so old. One of the first things you’re going to notice about Courtney is that she’s extremely bright. High IQ. She was always in accelerated programs at school, but now she’s close to failing. She’s intellectually advanced and emotionally…” Lief lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Immature? I don’t know… Wounded?”

“How does this make you feel, Mr. Holbrook?”

“Call me Lief, please. It makes me feel like an idiot. A failure. Like I’m going to lose her to some disaster like drugs or grand theft auto or suicide.”

“Do you think suicide is an issue? I’ll take that information from you gladly—I should know.”

“It’s hard to say,” he answered with a shrug. “I found some websites that she’d looked at that deal with suicide and I almost lost it—I asked her if she was thinking about suicide. She said, ‘Everyone thinks about it, but I’m not going to do it.’ How do you know if something like that’s curiosity or an imminent danger?”

“We watch,” he said. “I’ll be certain to direct our dialogue to give me more information.”

“The girl barely eats. I don’t think she’s anorexic—she eats enough, I think. But she’s gotten so thin and she’s never hungry. I’m a farm boy—that bothers me more than you can imagine. Some people think I know inside stuff about her age group, about troubled teens, because I wrote a couple of screenplays about young people in crisis, but I wasn’t writing about them—I was writing about me! And my crisis was a long, long time ago and had to do with a dead horse, not a dead mother.”

Jerry sat up straighter. “What movies?” he asked.

“Deerstalker. Moonwalker. A couple of other things…”

“My God, you’re that Lief Holbrook…. You won an Oscar and an Emmy.” He almost burst with excitement. “Yes, I can see how there’d be preconceived notions. Those were brilliant scripts. I have both of those movies.”

Lief looked down briefly. “Thank you,” he said.

Jerry leaned toward him. “And tell me, Lief. Your wife died and your stepdaughter is giving you fits. Besides frustration with her behavior and appearance, how are you getting along? How do you feel?”

Lief let his eyes bore right into that silly-looking counselor’s pale blue eyes. “Lonely. Sometimes pretty miserable. Like a complete failure where Courtney is concerned. And terrified of never getting her back.”

“I understand completely. Let’s set up your appointments now, then we’ll have another forty minutes or so to chat before you have to go.”

“Our appointments?”

“I’ll do what I can for Courtney, of course. It’s really my specialty even if it’s not yours. But brother—you could use a friend who understands right now, too. If it’s not too bold, I think you should give me a try. I actually studied this stuff.”

“You any good?” Lief asked.

“I am,” he said, smiling almost shyly.