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“Cute,” Alice said, giving Charity a cool smile. “It seems as if you have been working hard on this project for the tree auction.”
Charity didn’t answer, far too uncomfortable to think of a single thing to say. Rusty sat next to her feet, his big warm body touching her legs.
Alice continued into the kitchen where she studied the pennant tree skirt. “The gold looks drab with the blue and green,” she said, before glancing up at Charity again and giving her another cool smile. “But I think it’s a very clever idea. It will be fun to see it all come together. I expect Quinn’s memorabilia will raise a significant amount of money. At any rate, I’m planning on bidding it up.” She went to Charity. “But don’t tell Quinn. He hates is when I spend money on him.”
“Well, it wouldn’t actually be money spent on him, it’s a fund-raiser,” Charity finally said, finding her voice at last. “All money raised will be going to help others.”
Alice gently pulled apart the pennant skirt and stacked the pennants into a pile. “I’m worried you’re going to get hurt. You seem very sweet. But Quinn’s a complicated man. As much as he wants to belong here, he doesn’t. Ask him some time if you don’t believe me. He feels like an outsider. He doesn’t fit in, and yes, he loves his family, but Montana represents his past, not his future.” She lifted the top pennant and flashed it at Charity. “His home is in Seattle now. Seattle gives him a different identity. He can get lost there, and forget his grief.”
Alice returned the pennant to the stack and circled the island, studying everything. “This place honestly isn’t what I expected. He built it before we met. It’s like a dream house. Something you’d see in Architectural Digest. Now, I’d expect this from my dad. Dad is all about trying to impress people. I didn’t think Quinn wanted that, and yet when you look at this place you realize he needs people to think he’s doing okay.”
“He is doing okay,” Charity said quietly.
“But he’s not. It’s an act. A façade, if you will. Something he projects because it’s what people expect of him. Quinn’s the good Douglas. He’s the positive, nice-guy one. And unfortunately, he has to be that person here in Montana. He has to be that way for all of you… just so you can be okay with what happened on his ranch that day.”
Charity fought a wave of anger. “That’s not true. No one expects that of him, or wants it from him. People love him because he’s one of us, not because he’s a baseball player, or a survivor from the ranch massacre.”
“If you say so.” Alice shrugged and pulled out a barstool from the island and sat down. Her thick fur coat fell open and revealed her very slender figure. “I love Quinn. I have loved him from the moment I met him, and he loves me. We’ve had a bumpy few months, but it’s not the first time. We’ll get through this. We always do.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Charity said after a moment.
“Just be careful. As I said, you seem very sweet—”
“I’m not that sweet.”
Alice’s lips curved into a hard smile. “Good, because I’m not sweet at all.”
“I gathered that,” Charity answered calmly, even though she was a panicked mess underneath. She felt foolish and naked and terribly exposed. She didn’t want to be here anymore, but she wasn’t about to let Alice chase her off.
She went to the dining room table and checked on the strings of lights with the painted ping-pong balls. As she lifted a second string, a little ball fell off and bounced onto the ground. Charity retrieved it and finding her glue, reattached the ball more securely. She could feel Alice’s gaze on her, and it felt like she was burning a hole through her back but Charity refused to rush.
Quinn had said he and Alice were finished. Quinn had said he was single and available and just because Alice was here, didn’t mean Alice could just take Quinn back.
“I hope you brought the bobble head dolls,” Charity said, giving Alice a smile. “Because they’ll look adorable on the tree.”
“If you scratch them, they’ll lose their value.”
“I won’t, and I’ll be as careful with their boxes as I have been with everything else.” Charity tapped one of the baseball cards in the plastic sleeve. It was from Quinn’s rookie year and he looked like a kid. “I just feel so lucky to have grown up with Quinn,” she said. “We both love Montana so much.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Alice said, approaching her. Her glance fell onto the rookie card and she studied it a moment before looking up at Charity. “It won’t work. You’re going to lose.”
“Lose what?” Charity countered. “This is my home. This is where I live. Quinn’s sister McKenna is one of my close friends. Rory, Quinn’s brother, is married to another one of my best friends. Quinn isn’t a baseball player to me. He’s not someone famous. Or someone to parade about, thankful he makes me look good. He’s just Quinn Douglas, and someone I love.”
Charity slipped all the plastic protected cards into a box, and then topped them with the strings of lights before gathering her purse and coat. “I’ll pick up the things you brought tomorrow. Thanks for hand carrying them out. Have a good night.”
Rusty Noel followed Charity to the front door and whined as it became clear he wasn’t going with her. She felt terrible about everything and she was just about to fall apart, but she couldn’t do that in here, not with Alice hovering like a hawk.
Charity juggled her boxes and bags and gave Rusty Noel scratch beneath his chin. “See you soon, Noel,” she whispered, before letting herself out and closing the door.
It wasn’t until she was in her car on Highway 89 that her calm cracked. She hated leaving Alice in Quinn’s house. She didn’t want Alice anywhere near Quinn but for all Charity knew, Quinn wanted her there.
For all she knew, Quinn had invited Alice out.
For all she knew, Quinn hadn’t completely severed ties with Alice, which meant Alice had good reason to be smug.
Chapter Ten
She wasn’t picking up.
At first Quinn thought Charity might just be busy with one of her projects, but as the evening went on and she failed to respond to his calls, or his texts asking her to check in, his unease grew. This silence wasn’t like her. Was she okay? Had something happened? Immediately, he thought of Greg and his worry intensified.
He didn’t like thinking about what took place on his ranch twenty-one years ago, but of course the violence had affected him. It was why he had a sophisticated security system for the house. The house wasn’t as isolated as the Douglas ranch had been, but there weren’t any close neighbors. No one to keep track of coming and goings.
Every ten to fifteen minutes he’d glance at his phone to see if a text came in from her. Finally he couldn’t handle it anymore. He went to Rory and told him he had to run home to check on something, but he should be back right away. Rory wasn’t worried. Quinn lived close. Pulling up to his house, Quinn spotted an unfamiliar car in his driveway. He also noticed that Charity’s Subaru was gone.
A big burgundy hard-sided suitcase stood on the front porch near the door. Quinn recognized the suitcase. Alice had an entire set of luggage like this one. He knew, because he’d bought the set for her last Christmas.
The fight or flight anxiety began to ease, replaced by dread. Quinn was beginning to get a clear idea of what happened, and it wasn’t good.
He let himself into the house and spotted the other matching suitcase in the hall. He glanced around, looking for Alice and Rusty.
He found Alice in the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine. She’d located two glasses from one of the cabinets and flashed him a smile. “Hey, handsome, I wondered when you’d get here.”
“I’m not staying,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to the Gallaghers.” He frowned as she filled the glasses, thinking the house didn’t feel right. Everything was too quiet. “Where did you get the wine from?”
“I brought it from home. Your favorite winery,” she said, turning the bottle to show off the labe
l.
He glanced around again, and then realized why everything felt off. “Where’s Rusty?”
“Rusty?”
“My dog.”
“Why would you get a dog? You’re coming back home soon.” Her lips pursed. “And if you really, really want a dog, we’re going to get a puppy that we pick out together.”
Quinn couldn’t even answer that, unable to string together sentences that would be polite. He whistled, and then called Rusty’s name.
Alice handed him a wineglass. “He’s in the laundry room,” she said. “He was scratching at the front door and it was annoying.”
Quinn set the glass down on the counter harder than he intended. “I don’t know what you’re doing here,” he said tersely, “but you can’t stay.” And then he headed for the laundry room to let Rusty out.
Alice followed him slowly, wineglass in hand. “It’s almost eight. The nearest town is thirty minutes away. Where do you expect me to go at this time of night?”
“To the nearest town and it’s not thirty minutes. It’s only twenty minutes to Marietta, and twenty-five to the Graff Hotel which should have plenty of room for you this time of year,” he answered, opening the door. The laundry room was dark. He flipped on the light and Rusty immediately came to him, and pushed his head into Quinn’s hand. Poor dog.
And then he thought of Charity and his chest grew tighter, and harder, and he could only imagine what she was feeling right now. He turned around and faced Alice. “Why are you here?”
“I brought out the things you wanted,” she answered, her tone excessively reasonable.
This was how she liked to play ball. She would act like she was the calm, rational one and he was impractical and unrealistic.
He ground his teeth together, battling to control his anger. “What did you say to Charity?”
“I wondered what her name was.”
“Alice?”
Her slender shoulder lifted and fell. “Nothing bad and nothing that wasn’t true.”
“What does that mean?”
