Finding Her Courage Page 4

  She opened the first one, expecting, well, shoes. Inside was the pocket watch Wesley had picked out for him on their honeymoon. A picture of her and Wesley together in front of the Golden Gate Bridge was in there with it.

  Not now. Camille put the watch back in the box and quickly closed it, then grabbed the shoebox beside it. Inside were Wesley’s Boy Scout patches and a dozen pictures of him dressed in his uniform.

  The next box was more Wesley, and so was the next one. All the shoeboxes were Wesley. She couldn’t give these away. Ever.

  Camille’s heart started beating a two-step. She stood up, taking deep breaths, and went to the window, pressing her head against the glass. Evie looked up. Her face scrunched as she got off the bed, tugging on Camille’s arm.

  “I’m okay, sweetie, I just got—” Scared? Worried? Felt like the world was crashing in around her? “—a little lightheaded from all the dust.” But Evie didn’t look convinced. She disappeared from the room, and a second later Nikki was there.

  “What’s up?” Nikki asked, pretending she hadn’t been sent.

  Camille twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “Nothing. Going through George’s stuff is harder than I thought, that’s all.”

  Nikki bounced on the bed. “So, take a break. Go bring Ty that gift basket you made him.”

  Ty. There was a conundrum she didn’t need right now. He was irritating, arrogant and had saved her twice in the last four days. First with the car, then with Evie. It was easier to be mad at him when he wasn’t in the room.

  “I’ll give it to him later. I want to finish this up.” And just to prove she was okay, she went back to the closet and started pulling things off the top shelf. Nikki gave her a look. The kind only a sister can get away with. “What?”

  “You like him.”

  Camille jumped. “No, I don’t.”

  Nikki shook her head. “I don’t mean like that. I mean you like him. As a person. The same way George did.”

  There was an old record player covered in dust. Camille wiped it off and set it on the ground. “He’s nice enough, I guess.”

  Nikki arched an eyebrow. “You baked him muffins. And you don’t bake.”

  “It’s just a thank-you.”

  “Well, if you don’t get that basket to him soon, your thank-you is gonna go stale.” Camille started rummaging around in a brown paper bag filled with nuts and bolts. Nikki watched her a second, then changed the subject. “I lined up another buyer.”

  Now that was worth talking about. “For when?”

  “Couple of days.”

  “That long?”

  “You’ve still got three weeks to get the bank their money. They won’t foreclose early. Trust me on this. It’s five years as a Realtor talking.”

  Camille forced a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

  The house phone rang. She picked up the one in George’s bedroom, and Ben’s voice came out in a cautious monotone. “Camille, don’t freak out.”

  Uh-oh. Her stomach started spinning. “What happened?”

  Ben let out a breath. “The judge upheld the will.”

  It took a second for his words to sink in. “But...how?”

  “He said it was no different than splitting an estate between siblings.”

  Was that her head pounding, or was someone hammering next door? “Is there any point trying again?”

  Ben’s silence was all the answer she needed. “Camille, I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “Me too.” She hung up with Ben and gave Nikki the news.

  “Should I cancel the buyer?”

  “No, don’t.”

  “If Ty won’t sell—”

  “He will. I’ve just gotta try plan B.”

  Nikki drew her eyes together. “You mean telling him the truth? Because I’m in favor of that plan.”

  Camille stiffened. “Ty doesn’t need to know about the foreclosure.”

  “Why not? You think he’ll judge you for it? Point fingers behind your back?”

  Yes and yes. She’d gotten enough dirty looks from neighbors when they’d seen the red notice taped to her door. What kind of looks would Ty give her? Camille’s pride had been wounded, but it wasn’t yet flattened. And she preferred to keep it that way.

  “Ty is on a need-to-know basis, and he doesn’t need to know.”

  Nikki exhaled a shrug. “Fine. So what’s the plan then?”

  Good question. “I’ll make him an offer he can’t resist.”

  * * *

  Ty triple checked the engine on the Piper Cub. The old World War II tailwheel catered to people who found its history just as thrilling as its bright yellow curves, but its age meant there was more that could go wrong with it, and Ty didn’t need the inspector coming down on him two days from now.

  Dillon looked up from behind the second Cessna. “Looks okay here.”

  Good. Maybe they should wash them down too. The inspector wouldn’t care how many bugs were stuck to the nose, but movie stars like Phoebe Saylor might.

  “Did you talk to Camille yet?” Dillon’s words cut into his thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Camille. Talk. You know, that thing people do with their mouths.”

  Ha. “We’re still sorting things out.” Camille had been avoiding him the last two days, and he was afraid to push her. Dillon came around the Piper. Ty recognized that look. “You think I should let her sell.”

  Dillon didn’t deny it. “The money would help.”

  “When Phoebe Saylor books her wedding with us, we’ll have all the money we need.” And something even better—a reputation no blogger’s post could tarnish. “Just trust me on this. Phoebe’s wedding will fix everything.”

  Dillon folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to one side. “You’re always trying to fix things. Even the stuff you can’t. Like Jon. And Mia.”

  Oh, good. Dillon was back on this. “I’m not talking about Jon with you.”

  “Or anyone else. But you need to.” There was a pause. “Maybe if you had talked to someone sooner, Mia wouldn’t have left.”

  Dillon’s words cut into him—a sharp, swift punch to the gut he’d rather avoid. He fixed Dillon with a stare. “Don’t.” If his brother insisted on continuing the Mia–Jon discussion, Ty would take the Piper Cub up ten thousand feet in the air, where even Dill couldn’t follow.

  For half a second Dill wavered. Then he came to his senses and backed off. Kind of. “If you don’t want to talk to me, there’s always God. You two could use a little one-on-one time.”

  “God and I get along just fine.” And they would keep getting along just fine if God stopped throwing out His little tests. Ditching Ty in the ocean? Test one. Killing Jon? Test two. Losing Mia? Test three. He supposed that made Camille and Evie test four.

  But none of that mattered. Phoebe would be here tomorrow, and by the end of the month everything on the ranch would go back to normal. “Get the hose. We need to wash these planes down.”

  A light knock sounded on the hangar doors. Camille was standing with a massive gift basket in her arms. “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  They stared at each other from across the hangar. Dillon rolled his eyes and went over to Camille. “Don’t mind Ty. He forgets how to talk sometimes. I wish I could say it was oxygen deprivation from all that time as a Blue Angel, but Ty was born with his mouth taped shut.”

  Camille giggled. Ty glared at him. “Funny.”

  Dill shrugged. “I’m gonna hunt down Maricela. It’s her turn to wash the planes. Camille, nice seeing you again.” He left them alone in the hangar.

  “Come in,” said Ty. “I’ll give you the tour.”

  Camille’s eyes darted from one plane to the next. “I’m fine here.” She held out the gift basket. Ty had to cross the hangar to take it from her.


  “What this?”

  “A thank-you.”

  The basket was huge. Ty needed two hands to hold it. Cookies and muffins were layered amongst multicolored confetti. “You didn’t have to do this. It looks expensive.”

  Camille’s smile curved into her cheeks. “I’m a decorator. I know how to make things look good.” Right. George had mentioned that about her. “It’s all homemade. Evie did the card and helped with the cookies. I made the muffins, though I guess I ought to warn you I’m not the best cook.”

  “I’m sure they’re great. Thank you.”

  He set the basket on a bench, grabbed a blueberry muffin and bit in. Sawdust caked the roof of his mouth. Ty’s eyes actually watered. He forced a smile, willing his throat to open up and swallow. It went down, but his stomach put up a fight upon entry.

  “Delicious.” Ty set the muffin aside and opened the card. Inside was a drawing of a little girl with blond curls and a man in a cowboy hat holding out an ice-cream cone to his horse.

  “Tell Evie thanks for me.” Camille was staring at the planes again. “You know, I used to give George lessons. No charge or anything. If you ever want one—”

  “A flying lesson?” Her voice got squeaky. “Evie’s terrified of planes. If she knew I was going up in one, she’d panic.”

  Ty lifted one eyebrow. “Evie would panic?”

  “That’s right.”

  If that was her story, Ty wasn’t gonna argue with her.

  She started bouncing on her feet. “Look, I said we could talk, so let’s talk.”

  Good. Ty had worried she’d change her mind. “Okay.”

  She spun her wedding ring absently around her finger. “If you let me sell the ranch, I’ll give you...ten percent of whatever I get for it.”

  Was she serious? “It’s big of you to offer me part of something I already own.”

  “There’s no guarantee you’ll get to keep the land. My lawyer—”

  “My lawyer called this morning and said a judge upheld George’s will.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Fine. I’ll give you ten percent of the sale for the house too.”

  “No.”

  “Fifteen percent.”

  “No.”

  “Twenty.”

  “Camille, I’m not agreeing to sell. No matter how high you go.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “Do you always have to be so stubborn?”

  “Do you?” They stared at each other, breathing hard. “Why do you want to sell so bad anyway?”

  Camille’s nostrils flared and her face turned pink. “Don’t change the subject. We’re not done with this.” But they must’ve been done for now, because she turned and stomped off. Ty drew in a breath, counted to three, then went back to his planes. At least they made sense.

  * * *

  Daisy’s eyes were glowing when she ran up to Ty. “Can I meet Phoebe Saylor when she gets here? I’ve seen all her movies.”

  This was tricky. Ty wanted to say yes, but he didn’t need Phoebe thinking she’d be stalked by fans on her wedding day. “Let me see how it goes first, okay?”

  Daisy tried to play it cool, but Ty could tell she was disappointed. “Sure.” She had that beaten look in her eyes. The one it had taken months to turn around.

  “All right, fine. Just a quick hello, then you can help Josh get the planes ready for the inspector tomorrow.”

  “I thought the inspector was today.”

  “The seventh.”

  “Today is the seventh.”

  Ty blinked. He pulled his phone out. Thursday, June 7 shouted at him in bold letters from his tiny screen. Fix this. Fast.

  “All right, new plan. Go and help Josh now, please. And grab Dillon and Maricela.”

  “Maricela’s in town.”

  “Fine. Get Emmitt then.” Ty thanked her and promised to bring Phoebe by the hangar during the tour. Camille’s muffins were in the gift basket sitting on the entryway table. Daisy reached for one. “Careful with those.”

  Daisy gave him a look, then took a bite. Her face screwed up. “I...uh...oh. Who made these?”

  “Camille.”

  She held the muffin in her hands. Her face lit up. “Maybe the goats will like them. They’ll eat tin cans.” She took the basket and disappeared outside.

  At one o’clock, a limousine pulled up. Ty didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more out of place on a ranch. Phoebe Saylor stepped out with her fiancé, an up-and-coming pitcher who might be as famous as his soon-to-be-wife in another year or two.

  They were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. He’d expected Beverly Hills clothes and diamonds. Maybe Phoebe still had a little Nebraska in her after all.

  Ty and Dillon greeted them. “Miss Saylor?” Ty held out his hand. She shook it warmly.

  “Phoebe is fine. This is Brett, my fiancé.”

  Brett didn’t look quite as excited to be here as Phoebe, but he shook Ty’s hand just as warmly. “Please tell me you don’t have rats.”

  Phoebe slapped his arm playfully. “You promised to be good.”

  Brett shrugged. “It’s better to know now. Do you really want to go through all that again?”

  Phoebe bit her bottom lip and looked at Ty. “You don’t, do you?”

  Ty had heard all about their rat situation at the banquet hall. When a hometown girl’s celebrity wedding is crushed due to rats in the kitchen, it made Sweetheart’s top news story three days in a row.

  “No rats here,” said Dillon, jumping in. “We’ve got a cow named Milkshake who’s a real terror and keeps them away.”

  Brett looked confused, but Phoebe laughed. Ty led them around the property.

  “This would be your first wedding here, is that right?” Phoebe asked.

  Ty stiffened. “That’s right.” Until Dillon’s big idea, it had never even occurred to Ty to host a wedding at Sky High.

  Dillon cut in again. “But this definitely won’t be our last. There’s something charming about getting married on a ranch, don’t you think?” Dillon was laying it on thick, but Phoebe didn’t need convincing. She’d spent her childhood on a ranch in Sweetheart until her parents sold it and bought something smaller. They still lived in town.

  They entered the hangar and Daisy let out a squeal, though she managed to keep her gawking to a minimum. Josh and the inspector didn’t even look up. The inspector was pointing to Cessna 1 and jotting something on his clipboard.

  Phoebe and Brett were more interested in the planes than the inspector. And they really wanted to see the barns.

  “Oh, wow.” Phoebe’s face lit up when Ty opened the dairy barn doors. “It’s like that last movie I did, the one about the cows from outer space, only this is way better. It’s authentic. So much better than those CGI cows they made us use.”

  Brett paused beside a cow twice the size of all the others. “You know, I thought getting married on a ranch was weird when you suggested it, but now I think it could actually be fun. We can get married in a barn and take an air tour after the ceremony.” He looked at Ty. “We can do that, right?”

  Ty would’ve agreed to let them spit out the side of the plane if they wanted to. “Sure.”

  Brett reached for Phoebe’s hand. “That’s one thing this place has that Liam’s doesn’t. Airplanes.”

  Had Ty just one-upped Liam? His heart did a little dance. What would Mia think when she learned her old boyfriend had just outdone her new one? Josh appeared at the barn door. The inspector hovered behind him. Dillon excused himself.

  Phoebe turned to Ty. “What about decorations? They’re included, right?”

  “Absolutely.” Thanks to Dillon. Ty ought to put him in charge just to teach him a lesson. Instead he pointed to the rafters. “It would be easy to hang some white streamers. And we could tie white balloons to the stalls to match.”


  When he turned back around, Phoebe and Brett were staring at him with deadpan expressions. “You’re joking, right?” Phoebe’s eyes did this thing where they simultaneously popped and narrowed. “Streamers and balloons? For a wedding?”

  Uhh. He broke out his thousand-watt smile. “Of course I am.”

  Relieved laughter filled the barn. Brett punched his shoulder. “Good one.”

  The laughter died down, and Phoebe looked at him expectantly. “So seriously, what did you have in mind?”

  Ty’s brain did a quick breakdown of everything he knew about party decorations. Streamers? Check. Balloons? Check. What else was there?

  “Actually, I don’t have my ideas written out yet. Could I get them to you in a couple days?”

  Phoebe and Brett exchanged a look. Phoebe frowned. “Liam Kendrick already showed us a book with sketches and pictures.”

  Liam had a whole book? That must’ve been Mia’s idea. Just one more reason never to get involved with anyone again. Relationships didn’t last, and when they ended, a mess inevitably followed.

  Phoebe whispered something in Brett’s ear, then turned to him. “I have to go back to LA for the weekend. I’ll come by Monday, and you can show me what you have then.”

  Ty walked them to their limo, then hurried to find Dillon. He was talking to Josh. “There’s a crack in the fuselage on Cessna 1,” Josh said, skipping the preamble.

  “What?” Ty thought he’d misheard. “I’ve checked that plane a million times.”

  “It’s small,” said Dillon. “I missed it too.”

  Great. “How long do we have?”

  “The inspector will be back in a week or two to check again.”

  A week or two was plenty of time for repairs, but a crack in their fuselage was gonna wipe out the little savings they had left. That meant this wedding had to happen.

  “What kind of decorations do women like at weddings?”

  Dillon and Josh exchanged a shrug. “Streamers?” said Dillon.

  “Balloons?” said Josh.

  Ty groaned. He was asking the wrong people.