Grin and Beard It(138)

“Are you using Sienna to become famous?”

I let them shout their questions at me for a few minutes, careful to keep my expression calm and my smile easy. Each flash of the camera was searching for an unpleasant picture of my face. I figured I’d be the man who conned Sienna Diaz, ruined America’s sweetheart if I didn’t play my cards right, or donned one sinister expression.

When it was clear they were growing tired, I spoke over them. “Now, just hold on. I’ll be happy to answer everyone’s questions. But I’d like to do so on my porch, in the shade and out of the heat, if you don’t mind. There are plenty of chairs for everyone, and I have lemonade in the fridge. It’s hot out here, and I could do with a cool drink.”

Their general steam and fervor, or fear that I’d rush into my house and call the cops on them for trespassing, seemed to wane at my offer and they exchanged furtive glances. Quietly, and en masse, they shifted away from the truck so Cletus and I could exit.

I stepped out, giving each of their distrusting faces a small welcoming smile, then turned to Cletus as he walked around the truck toward the porch. “Could you bring out some lemonade for these fine folks? And a bucket of ice. We’ll be on the porch.”

Cletus scowled, but he nodded, casting disapproving glares around the crowd like he was cataloging each of them for one of his sinister plans. I breathed a sigh of relief when he disappeared inside without saying a word.

“Forgive my brother. It was a bit of a shock coming home to such a ruckus.” Before anyone could speak I turned to the reporter closest to me and extended my hand. “I’m Jethro Winston. What’s your name?”





CHAPTER 35


“Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.”

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being



~Sienna~

“I can’t believe we’re lost,” Dave grumbled, shaking his head at the mountain road. “I mean, I only had to drive up here from the airport that one time, but I seriously thought I knew the way. Everything looks the same.”

“Why don’t any of you have your new phones?” Marta complained, shaking her head at all of us. “I ordered you those phones so you would have reception on the mountain.”

I shared a sheepish glance with Henry. He and Tim were sitting with me in the back seat. We’d all left our Tennessee phones on the kitchen table at Hank’s cabin, not wanting to carry two phones with us to London.

“Guys, I think we need to pull over,” Tim said. Actually, he moaned it.

“What’s wrong?” Dave glanced at us through the rearview mirror.

“Tim’s carsick.” Henry shifted away from Tim. “Or he’s about to be.”

“It’s because of the switchbacks.” Dave nodded at his own assertion.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Tim groaned, covering his mouth with a big hand.

“Pull off there.” Marta pointed to an overlook, a frantic note in her tone.

Dave eased us off the side of the road. As soon as the car pulled to a stop, both Henry and I bolted out of our respective doors. Tim was a little slower to exit, crawling more than walking.

The sun was low in the sky as it was still early morning. We’d left directly from the film premiere in the wee hours of pre-dawn London time. I was reasonably well rested, having slept the entire flight back to the States. But now I was anxious to get home so I could call Jethro and tell him in person about the premiere. I wanted him to have some time to prepare before Arval ran his footage this week.

Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I walked to Marta and slipped an arm around her shoulders. She exhaled a tired laugh and rested her head on my shoulder.

“No wonder you were lost up here. At least we know which direction is east, but you were driving in the middle of the day.”

I glanced around the overlook, smiling to myself. “You know, I think this is the same overlook where I pulled off that first day. Just think of this as us giving you the authentic mountain experience.”

She lifted her head and gave me a hopeful look. “Do you think you can find your way back from here?”

“Maybe. I think we use this road to get to Jethro’s . . .” I trailed off because the sound of an approaching vehicle had us turning our attention to the road.

A green truck appeared. It was Jethro’s truck. I immediately laughed.

Of course.

Of course he’d be driving past. Right place, right time.

Marta glanced between the road and me. I released my sister and walked to the edge of the overlook. He’d passed us but was now putting on his brake and making a U-turn.

“Hey, that’s Jethro’s truck,” I heard Dave say from behind me.