I needed to remember that.
A couple of days off the grid and I would get back to it. I needed to get back to it. Monday, when I didn't show up for filming, the studio would be fucking pissed. We were near the end of this film, and they'd probably figure I went off the deep end or something, lost my damn mind, with everything that had just happened with Viper. They'd film without me in the meantime, but someone would be looking for me. Soon.
I walked through town, browsing in a few of the store windows, the spaces decorated with country knick-knacks, cowboy clothing and boots. Being here was like stepping back in time.
It was almost enough to forget everything that had happened, back in the real world. Back in Hollywood. Not that Hollywood was anything like the real world; I wasn't delusional enough to think that. But it was my reality.
I just didn't know if I wanted it to be my future.
When I returned to the bed and breakfast, Cade and June were on the front porch, and June had a picnic basket in her hand. She held it up when I got out of the car.
"We were just making some lunch," she said. "So I figured I'd bring you some stuff over, drop if off in case you were hungry and didn't feel like cooking. Cade makes a mean chicken salad."
Cade was standing beside her, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. "Secret ingredient is curry," he said. "June's been eating it by the truckload since she got pregnant."
"The kid is going to hate chicken salad," June said.
"Well, with an endorsement like that, how could I not try it?" I opened the front door. "Is there enough in there for all of us? Would you stay and have lunch with me?"
"Sure," June said. Then, to Stan, "Baby, come this way." He was picking the petals off flowers in a pot near the door. "Don't eat those."
Inside, June set out plates and Cade sat with Stan on his lap.
"It's good," I said as I bit into my sandwich. "Really good."
Cade smiled.
"He's a great cook," June said. "Does better than me with a lot of it. The muffins this morning? His recipe."
"You're like a jack of all trades," I said. "You keep up with the horses and everything here too?"
Cade nodded. "Part of running a ranch," he said. "Got a couple ranch hands helping out now that I'm at the shop more, though."
"I saw your shop today when I was getting a car," I said. "Closed for lunch-obviously you were here."
We ate for a few minutes in silence, but it wasn't the kind of awkward silence I usually felt around people. June and Cade were easy to be around.
Then I asked the question that had been on my mind since I'd left town. "Do you know anything about the Saint brothers?"
It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "Where did you hear that name?" June asked.
"Elias Saint." I blurted out the words before I could think about stopping myself. "He's the guy who was with me here."
A dark look crossed Cade's face and looked at June meaningfully. "You known him long?" he asked.
"Not really," I admitted. "He helped me out of a jam." I didn't elaborate, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that I'd brought it up, since both of them clearly knew his name.
"He's not someone you should be spending time with," Cade said, his tone gruff.
"Cade, you don't know that," June said, her voice stern. She gave him a look.
"A leopard doesn't change his spots," Cade said.
"It's not fair," June said, "Him paying for his brother's sins. He was a kid then."
Cade grunted, and stepped away from the table, kissing his wife on the top of his head before he started for the door. "Need to get back to the shop," he said, passing Stan to her
"Bye-bye," Stan babbled.
Cade kissed the top of his head. "Bye-bye, baby," he said. Then he looked up at June and I. "That family's no good, the whole lot of them."
After Cade left, June turned to me. "Don't mind him," she said. "He's not closed-minded in a lot of ways, but when it comes to me, he is."
"I don't understand," I said. I didn't know what Elias or his family had done, but this town seemed to be focused on it.
"What he said isn't right," June said. "About his family. They're not all bad. The father - Abraham Saint - was a piece of work, as I remember, drunk a lot. Think he used to beat up on the kids. But he's dead now - just died, a week ago? Maybe two weeks? I can't keep up with things lately."
A week or two.
It had to be why Elias was coming back here. He hadn't said anything.
But then, why should he, to some casual fling?
“I don’t understand,” I said. “So they’re all bad seeds because of Elias’ father?” I might have grown up in a small town, and understood how petty and mean life in a small town could be, but this seemed extreme, even to me.