The sun lit up the little kitchen in our rental cabin. I stood at the sink, gazing out at the lake. I’d been all over the world, but there was nothing quite like a mountain lake in West Virginia. Especially on a summer day. The water sparkled, and the trees fluttered in the breeze. I opened the window to let in some of the fresh, clean air, closing my eyes and breathing it in.

Kelvin was on his laptop at the kitchen table. We were supposed to be taking the week off, but he didn’t know what time off meant. I’d been hoping he’d relax a little more, but so far, he’d been as busy as if we were back in L.A.

We’d been here a few days, and I was keenly aware that we had to leave Friday afternoon. Such a short time. It felt like we hadn’t done even a quarter of the things I wanted to do. So far, we’d spent most of our time here, at the cabin. I’d been visiting my dad in the afternoons, but other than that, we hadn’t been out much. Kelvin was frustrated by the lack of paleo and gluten-free options at the local restaurants, so he’d been cooking dinners here. And he’d been so busy working, we hadn’t done much sightseeing.

I took the whistling kettle off the stove and poured water into my mug. Dunked the tea bag a few times. The scent of pine coming in the open window filled the air while Kelvin’s fingers clicked on his keyboard.

I hadn’t seen Jameson again. Not since I’d been in line behind him at the Pop In. I’d recognized him instantly, although he looked a bit different from what I remembered. Still had short dark hair and sweet blue eyes. But he’d matured—his features taking on a more rugged look, with that strong Bodine jaw covered in stubble. He no longer had the same boyish face. He was a man now.

Jameson Bodine. Next to my daddy, he’d been my favorite person when I was a little girl. I’d been friends with the other girls my age, but Jameson and I had shared a special bond. We’d spent endless hours together, walking trails, swimming in the lake, splashing in mud puddles. He’d been a quiet child around most people, but when we were together, he’d opened up. Talked to me about all kinds of things. It had made me feel so special. Like I knew a secret. I got to see something no one else did—the things he was hiding on the inside.

I’d taken that responsibility very seriously. Guarded his secrets—such as they were when we were small—with care. I’d kept them tucked away inside my heart, like little presents that were only for me. I could remember looking at him in school during class—watching as he doodled on his papers, keeping his head low—and feeling like I was the most special girl in the world, because I knew things about Jameson Bodine that no one else knew.

My heart had broken when my parents told me they were getting a divorce and my mom and I were moving away. To Florida, of all places. I’d known I’d miss my daddy, and my friends at school. Bootleg Springs had been the only place I’d ever known—my only home.

But leaving Jameson Bodine had been the worst thing of all. The stricken look on his face when I’d told him I was moving away was still burned into my memory. His blue eyes had gone dark and stormy, his jaw clenched. He’d fought back tears, which had made me cry like a baby. Then he’d wrapped his skinny twelve-year-old-boy arms around me and hugged me tight—told me everything would be okay.

When I’d come back to stay with my dad the next summer, I’d gone straight for the Bodines’ house. And it had been as if Jameson and I hadn’t been apart for more than a day. We’d spent the long summer days wandering around town, down to the lake, through the woods. At first, we’d caught up on what had happened over the past school year. He’d filled me in on all the Bootleg gossip; I’d told him about life in Florida. After that, things between us had gone on like they always had. We’d spent our days together, running home at sunset like all the other kids in town.

And so it had gone for the next several years. I’d spend the school year living with my mom in Jacksonville. I had friends at school. Joined the theater club and acted in plays. Performed in talent shows. Did my homework and talked on the phone too much—normal teenage girl things.

But I lived for summers, when I’d go stay with my dad in Bootleg Springs. Jameson would be waiting for me on the front steps of his house my first day in town, and we’d pick up right where we left off, as if we hadn’t been apart at all.

Everything had changed the summer Callie Kendall disappeared. My mom had heard the news and hopped the first flight she could get to West Virginia. Callie and I had been the same age, and my mom had been convinced Bootleg was suddenly dangerous. Too dangerous for her daughter to be unsupervised like I was. Telling her I was rarely alone, even with Dad working all day, hadn’t helped. Because for the first time, she seemed to realize I spent my summers running around with one of those Bodine boys.

I’d heard Mom and Dad fighting, so I’d walked into town to find Jameson. He’d sat with me at a booth at Moonshine. Bought me a chocolate shake to make me feel better. And the next day, I’d gone home with Mom. I hadn’t been back since.

I’d thought about Jameson so many times over the years. Wondered how he was doing. What his life was like. It was a relief to find him still here. If Jameson Bodine had left Bootleg Springs, the place would have lost some of its magic. It steadied me to know that some things hadn’t changed.

Wrapping my hands around my hot mug, I wandered outside. The breeze was soft on my face, and the sun sparkled on the water. It smelled like summer here, in a way no other place did. It reminded me of those magical summers I’d spent here. Reminded me of Jameson.

I wanted to see him again. Not just a brief meeting in a convenience store. I wanted to talk to him. Find out about his life now. I didn’t have his number or know where he lived, but it wouldn’t be too hard to find out. The cabin we were staying in belonged to Scarlett, his younger sister. I hadn’t talked to her—Kelvin’s assistant had made the reservation—but I was sure I could find a way to get in touch with her.

I resolved to find out where Jameson lived and go say hello. It probably wouldn’t work out today, but tomorrow for sure. Kelvin was busy, anyway. Depending on when Jameson had time, I could meet him for lunch and see my dad after. Or have lunch with Dad and grab coffee with Jameson in the afternoon. I’d be back in time for dinner with Kelvin.

Satisfied with my plan, I took my tea back inside and sat down at the table across from Kelvin. “What’s keeping you so busy?”

He kept his eyes on his laptop screen. “A lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Other than running a multi-million-dollar modeling agency?” he asked. “And trying to salvage your career?”

“Salvage?” I asked. “What do you mean, salvage?”

“You’re at a crossroads,” he said. “You’re not getting any younger, and you’ve never reached supermodel status. It’s a miracle your modeling career has lasted as long as it has.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not personal, Leah,” he said. “You know the trajectory of a model’s career as well as I do. You make it when you’re young and fresh-faced. You do your best to stay relevant. A lucky few get to the top and can still get work in their late twenties. Even fewer will go beyond that. You’ve had a great run, but you’re not at that level, babe. And every year, more and more new faces arrive on the scene. Teenagers with flawless skin. No retouching necessary.”

“I’m sorry I’ve aged so terribly,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm. “I’m surprised you can bear to look at me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that. Why do you think I’m working my ass off to get this acting thing going for you? Roughing It came at the perfect time, but we need to work fast to capitalize on the attention.”

“I’m not so sure the attention I’m getting is good. I think people are starting to hate me. They think I was trying to take Brock away from Maisie.”

“Good.”

“What?”

He sighed, like he was explaining something to a stubborn child. “Everyone loves to hate a villain. You can’t buy that kind of publicity. If you’re lucky, they’ll fabricate an entire relationship between you and Brock on the show. Babe, you’ll have offers pouring in.”

I gaped at him. “I don’t want the world to think I seduced Brock Winston and convinced him to cheat on his wife.”

“Who cares?”

“I do. Because it’s awful,” I said. “I would never do that. It isn’t me.”

“You want to be an actress, right?” he asked. “If your sweet little country-bumpkin self can pull off the part of the vixen on Roughing It, you’ll prove you can nail any role.”

I let out a long breath. He had a point. Although it was supposedly a reality show, I’d definitely played a part. The producers had coached me to act a certain way, so I had. I’d been given the part of the sex kitten—the sultry single girl flirting with all the men on the show. That wasn’t me, but I’d figured it was good practice. And even if the public didn’t know how staged the show really was, casting directors and producers would.

It was why I’d agreed to go on the show at all. Kelvin had a point about my modeling career waning. In modeling years, I was ancient. My career in the fashion world had an expiration date, and it was fast approaching. Acting had always been what I’d wanted to do, so it was the perfect time to make that transition.

Kelvin had been trying to get me auditions, but until Roughing It, nothing had come through. I couldn’t understand why. I wasn’t some vapid model with nothing going for her but a pretty face. I’d had years of acting classes. Dialect coaching to get rid of my Appalachian twang. I’d starred in plays and musicals all through my teens.

Kelvin had assured me that being on Roughing It would open doors. The show was only half over, but so far, I hadn’t seen any doors opening. And I was afraid more were going to keep closing.

“I’m just worried this isn’t turning out the way we thought it would,” I said. “If I’m the hated vixen, no one’s going to want to work with me. Have we heard back from Burberry yet? About the winter line?”

“They’re passing on you.”

“What?” I’d been working for Burberry for ten years. “They passed on me? Why?”

“Babe, we’ve talked about this,” he said. “It was going to happen sooner rather than later.”

“You think this is about my age? Not about the show?”

“It’s probably both.”

I stood, the chair scraping across the wood floor. My career was starting to slip through my fingers. I could feel it happening. No matter how many times Kelvin assured me things would be fine—I’d make a seamless transition into acting—I couldn’t help but worry. This was my livelihood. And seeing how my dad was struggling with his health made it all the more important that I keep working. Someone had to take care of him, and the time when he’d need it was approaching sooner than I’d thought. I’d found out from Betsy that he hadn’t worked more than part-time since last Christmas. I didn’t know how much longer he could support himself.

He didn’t have anyone else. He’d never remarried, and I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. It was up to me to take care of him.

Kelvin closed his laptop and came over to stand in front of me. He ran his hands up and down my arms. “Babe, don’t worry. I have some things in the works that are really exciting. You’re going to be fine.”

I nodded. I’d trusted him with my career for most of the past decade. I needed to keep trusting him.

Someone knocked on the door and Kelvin groaned. The first day had been quiet, but yesterday Millie Waggle had stopped by with a plate of brownies, and Maribel Schilling had brought a tater tot casserole. I’d tried to explain that this was just the Bootleg way. Bootleggers were equal parts friendly and curious—bordering on nosy. And it wasn’t my fault he refused to eat Millie’s brownies. His loss. They were amazing.

“Knock, knock,” a chipper woman’s voice came from the front. “Y’all home? Can I come in?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the petite brunette who came in wearing a tank top and cut-off shorts. “Scarlett Bodine?”

“Leah Mae,” she said. “You know, I heard it was you stayin’ here and I wasn’t quite sure if I believed it. After all, your name wasn’t anywhere on the reservation. But here you are. Look at you, Leah Mae Larkin, pretty as a picture. And famous to boot.”

“It’s so nice to see you. This place is yours? It looks like you’re doing well for yourself.”

“Can’t complain.” She came in and put a foil-wrapped package on the counter. “That’s safe to eat, I got it from Clarabell over at Moonshine. Pepperoni roll.”

I gasped. “Oh my god, I haven’t had one of those in years.”

Scarlett shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Honey, you’ve been missing out.”

“Thank you. That was really sweet of you.”

“Sure,” she said brightly. “Cabin treating you all right?”

“Yes, it’s lovely.” I glanced at Kelvin to see if he had anything to add, but he was back at the table on his laptop. “Scarlett, this is Kelvin Graham.”

“Nice to meet you,” Scarlett said.

Kelvin looked up and nodded, then went back to his laptop.

“Well then, just let me know if there’s anything you need,” she said. “I won’t keep you. I just felt bad that I hadn’t been by yet. Not very neighborly of me, but it’s been a busy week.”

I walked toward the door just behind Scarlett. “Thanks, I’m glad you did.” I paused for a second, suddenly nervous to bring this up. “Um, Scarlett… I was wondering about your brother, Jameson.”

Scarlett froze and turned slowly on her heel. “What about my brother Jameson?”

“Well, I thought it might be nice to see him. Say hello.”

A slow smile crept over Scarlett’s face. “Would you like his number?”

“That would be great.” I grabbed my phone out of my handbag, hanging by the door. “If you don’t think he’d mind, that is.”

“Oh, no, I’m quite certain Jameson won’t mind one bit,” she said. “I’ll give you his address too, if you want.”

“Yes, please.” I wasn’t sure why she was smiling so big, but I entered Jameson’s number and address into my phone. “Thank you so much. It would be nice to catch up with him a little bit. It’s been a long time.”

“That it has,” she said, still smiling. “Y’all take care, now. Enjoy your visit.”

Scarlett left, and I went back into the kitchen. Kelvin eyed me.

“What?” I asked.

“How many people are going to show up on the doorstep with food?”

I shrugged. “Hard to say. A few more at least.”

He rolled his eyes. “What is with this town?”

I ignored him and looked down at the entry in my phone. My heart fluttered a little, seeing Jameson’s name there. Which was silly. He’d been my friend when we were kids, but he was a basically a stranger now.

It was hard to get those blue eyes out of my head, though.

“I’m going to see my dad,” I said. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

Kelvin mumbled something, sounding distracted. I grabbed the car keys and my handbag, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Maybe I’d call Jameson from Dad’s house. Or wait until morning. Now that I had his number, I was suddenly nervous about using it. What if he didn’t want to see me? Or he was too busy? It would be so disappointing if the only time I saw him was for a hasty few minutes in line at the Pop In.

I’d give myself a little time to work up the courage, and then I’d call. Or maybe I’d just send him a text. That seemed more Jameson’s style. He’d never liked talking on the phone, and he probably wouldn’t answer a strange number.

With that settled in my mind, I got in our rental car and headed over to my dad’s.