Hold Me (5 page)

Kipling saw the other man, Miles, was about his height with dark hair. He wore an LA Stallions baseball cap. Destiny launched herself at him, and the man caught her in a tight embrace.

For a second Kipling wondered if he was going to have some competition for his planned short-term affair with the sexy redhead. Or if he’d misread the fact that she was single. But as he watched, the hug, while friendly, never progressed past affectionate. There was no trace of sexual tension between them. No lingering chemistry.

Miles released her, and she stepped back. They were talking animatedly. The man shook his head stubbornly, and Destiny slugged him in the arm.

Okay then, Kipling thought with a grin. More like brother and sister, not lovers. Excellent news. He’d been looking forward to seducing Destiny but wouldn’t go there if she belonged to someone else.

They approached. Destiny rolled her eyes. “Kipling Gilmore, meet Miles Thomas. He’s a good pilot and a complete dog when it comes to women. Please tell him to go easy here in town.”

The two men shook hands.

“It’s a family place with a lot of women in power,” Kipling warned him. “Our police chief has sons in high school and college. She’s not one to be reasoned with.”

Miles winked at Destiny. “Then I won’t ask her out. Sweet Destiny, you’re going to make this nice man think I’m a total bastard.”

“Yes, I know. Like I said. Brilliant in the sky. A jerk in his love life. I can’t tell you how many sobbing phone calls I’ve had to deal with over the past couple of years.”

“I’ve never made a phone cry,” Miles told her.

“Very funny. Don’t make me hit you again.”

Miles rubbed his arm. “You do pack a punch. More of Grandma Nell’s work, I presume.”

“Yes, and had she met you, she would have castrated you, just like she did the hogs.”

Miles’s good humor faded as he took a big step back. “Thanks for sharing. She’d dead, right?”

“You’re talking about my favorite grandmother,” Destiny told him. “Show a little respect.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kipling leaned against the Jeep and took in the show. “How long are you in town?” he asked Miles.

“As long as the job lasts.” He looked up at the mountains. “Six weeks maybe, give or take.” He sighed heavily. “Not that her work fills my days. Know anyone who wants to hire a helicopter pilot for odd jobs?”

“No, but I’ll ask around. There’s a company in town that offers different wilderness tours. I’ll give you the owner’s number. Aidan might want to offer helicopter tours. There may be others. Let me think on it.”

“Sure. That would be great.” Miles fished a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it over. “I’d appreciate anything that would break up the boredom of going over terrain, inch by fricking inch.”

“We pay you very well for your time,” Destiny said.

“That you do, my love, but the money doesn’t make the work interesting.”

“He’s a diva,” she told Kipling. “You’re the one who should have attitude, and you don’t. Miles has no reason to think he’s all that, yet he acts like he is.”

“I can hear you,” Miles said.

She started for the Jeep. “We have to give him a ride back to town so he can rent a car. I hope that’s okay.”

Miles shook his head. “She’s always like this. Acting as if I’m her...”

“Annoying younger brother?” Kipling asked.

“Yeah. Why is that?”

“No idea.”

All he knew was Miles wasn’t going to get in his way. Which meant it was time to get on with his plan.

* * *

“I
DON
’
T
GET
IT
,” Starr admitted as they stepped off a curb on their walk to town and the festival in progress. “Who is Rosie the Riveter?”

“She worked in a factory during World War II,” Destiny said. “She symbolized women helping out during the war. Before that, not many women had been in factory work, but when the men went off to war, factory positions had to be filled.”

Starr’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“I read a brochure. Someone dropped off a whole folder filled with brochures on the various town festivals. Some of them look fun.” More important to her summer with Starr, there were a couple every month—giving them things to do on the weekend.

Today was the start of Rosie the Riveter Days, a festival that celebrated all of the women of Fool’s Gold who moved to San Francisco during World War II to work in the factories there.

While the schools in Fool’s Gold were still in session for a few more weeks, Starr’s boarding school had already ended for the summer. The teen was certainly old enough to be left alone, but Destiny didn’t think day after day by herself was good for her half sister.

“Maybe we could get a book about Rosie the Riveter from the library,” she offered.

Starr rolled her eyes. “No, thanks. If I want to read about her, I’ll go online.”

“Sure.”

They crossed the street and headed for the park. The day was sunny and warm, the sidewalks filled with people. There were booths set up, selling everything from olive oil to jewelry, and posters promised live music all afternoon and evening.

Destiny paused in front of one of the posters. At least here was something she and Starr had in common. Something they could talk about.

“We can stay and listen to the bands,” she said. “Which ones look interesting to you?”

“Hello, girls.”

Destiny turned and saw a gray-haired lady in a track suit walking toward them.

“Don’t tell me,” the older woman said. “Let me guess.” She paused, then pointed. “Destiny and Starr. Do I have that right?”

Destiny nodded. “Yes. Hello.”

“I’m Eddie Carberry. You two are new in town. Welcome. We like new people, as long as you don’t make trouble.” Her expression turned stern as she raised her hand and pointed her finger at Destiny. “No texting and driving, young lady. Do you hear me? It’s dangerous.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t drive yet,” Starr added quickly, taking a step to the side, so she was half-hidden behind Destiny. “And I would never do that.”

“See that you don’t.” Eddie’s face relaxed as she smiled. “Have fun at the festival.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together.

Eddie walked away.

“How does she know who we are?” Starr asked. “Why was she mean?”

“All good questions,” Destiny told her. “It’s a small-town thing.”

“The smallest town I lived in was Nashville. From there we moved to Atlanta and then to Miami.” Starr paused for a second. “Dad took me on tour once. I was eight. We went to small towns, but that was different. I don’t know if I like it here.”

“You have to give it time. It can be more intense, but it’s also easier to get to know people because you’ll see them again and again.”

“Which is great unless you don’t get along.”

Destiny laughed. “So you’re not an optimist?”

“I guess not.” Starr’s green eyes brightened. “Isn’t moodiness a sign of, like, having talent?”

“I think it’s more about being a teenager.”

“Were you moody?”

“Grandma Nell didn’t believe in moods. She always said the chickens didn’t care how I felt about feeding them, as long as I got the job done.”

“She sounds, ah, really great.”

Destiny grinned. “She was, but she wasn’t easy. Still, I loved being with her.” She turned back to the poster. “All right. Let’s choose our bands. You first.”

They looked at the offerings and had a heated discussion of rock versus bluegrass. Ten minutes later, their day was scheduled, musically, at least. It was early for lunch and with the music not starting for a couple of hours, the afternoon loomed long.

Destiny wasn’t sure what they should talk about. School? Was that a safe topic?

“Are you keeping in touch with your school friends?” she asked.

Starr shrugged. “Some.”

“If you want to invite anyone to come stay for a few days, that would be okay. A weekend would be better so I wasn’t working,” she added.

“Thanks, but no. They all have plans with their families. Becky’s going to Europe, and Chelsea’s going to a language school.” Starr sighed heavily. “Her dad works for, like, the government or something, and she has to learn a bunch of languages.”

“That would be kind of hard.”

“I know, right? But she’s good at it. Becky’s good at math. I’m not really good at anything. I thought maybe music but...” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.

For a second Destiny felt a flood of guilt. She’d only heard her sister sing a couple of times, but she had a pretty voice. She knew she could teach Starr how to play the guitar better. Maybe they could start on the keyboard. Only Destiny didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to get involved or have anyone she knew in that business. It was seductive and dangerous. From the outside, the music world was glamorous, but from the inside, it was anything but.

A tall woman with a baby strapped to her chest approached them. She smiled engagingly.

“Hello. You must be Destiny and Starr Mills. Nice to meet you both. I’m Felicia Boylan. I run the festivals here in town.” The woman paused. “Interesting that we’re all natural redheads. Only about two percent of the population has red hair. The gene itself is recessive. I believe the color is caused by a mutation of the MC1R. That’s a gene that—”

Felicia paused then shrugged. “Sorry. Pretend I never said all of that. Most people don’t find my bursts of knowledge particularly interesting, but they are, I assure you, harmless.”

“Is that true?” Starr asked. “What you said about a mutation?”

“Yes. But not in a way that gives you super powers, like in the X-Men movies. Although, curiously enough, red hair doesn’t go gray. It simply fades over time.” Felicia smiled again. “Not that you’ll care about that now, but in forty years, it will be comforting.”

Starr looked more confused than reassured.

“Cute baby,” Destiny said. “How old?”

“Eight months.” Felicia beamed. “This is my daughter, Gabrielle-Emilie. She’s named after Gabrielle-Emilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil, a French courtier who collaborated with her lover Voltaire on many physics projects. However, if you ever meet my brother-in-law Gabriel, please don’t tell him that the baby isn’t named after him. He made an erroneous assumption, and we’ve decided not to disabuse him of it.”

Starr looked even more confused, but nodded and touched the baby’s hand. “Hi, Gabrielle.”

“We call her Ellie for short. Humans bond through the use of nicknames, and my son, Carter, requested this one in honor of his mother.”

Destiny was having trouble keeping up. “You’re not Carter’s mother?”

“No. It’s complicated.” Felicia turned to Starr. “Mayor Marsha told me you were thinking of coming to the summer camp. I wanted to stop by and let you know that according to my son, it’s really great and you’ll enjoy yourself. He’s fifteen, too.”

Destiny was willing to accept that locals might know her and Starr’s names and maybe even why they were in town. But knowing ages and about the camp was a little strange.

“Thanks for the information,” Starr said shyly.

“You’re welcome. One of the things they do at the camp is assign you a buddy. That’s someone who’s been there before. She’ll show you around and introduce you to people. It can be difficult when you’re new. Or odd. I was always odd when I was growing up. I’m better now. My husband says falling in love mellowed me, but I think it’s more that our intensely personal interactions have allowed me to develop my social skills.”

Felicia touched Starr’s shoulder. “As a teenager, your natural emotional state is to feel alienated. It’s part of the separation process as you mature into adulthood. And while the concept is helpful for you to learn to be a functioning member of society, you can easily find yourself feeling out of step and alone. Which is less comfortable. I think the camp would be helpful in nurturing feelings of connection with peers.”

“Okay,” Starr said slowly. “If you say so.”

“Good. I’ll tell Carter to look out for you.” Felicia smiled at Destiny. “Several of the women in town will be having lunch today at Jo’s Bar. You and your sister are invited. I can’t go because I’ll be working, but I encourage you to attend. Making friends really helps a place seem like home.”

“Thank you,” Destiny said. “That’s very nice.”

“You’re welcome. Look for Shelby Gilmore. She said she knows you. She’ll be there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I heard there was a problem with the seating by the smaller stage. Someone didn’t pay attention to my plan. I must now go explain why he’s wrong.”

“Good luck with that,” Destiny murmured.

Felicia waved and walked away.

Starr stared after her. “She scared me.”

“Me, too. At the same time, I kind of want to be more like her. Talk about smart.”

“You’re smart. Look at the job you have.”

“I’m intelligent enough,” Destiny said with a laugh. “But not compared with Felicia.” She put her arm around her sister. “On the bright side, apparently we don’t have to worry about going gray.”