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“What now?” Rose breathed when the news went to commercial.
Sean laughed and kissed her forehead. “We can relax a little bit, maybe.”
Suddenly, Rose’s phone buzzed with another text. She assumed it was her client.
But instead, it was the private investigator.
She’d only written:I found her. Here’s her number. She wants you to call.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The plane landed in Montana on September 8th. Rose was alone, her eyes out the window, watching the purple mountains come closer, closer. But the minute the plane dinged and settled, she turned back on her phone to field several messages from Sean.
SEAN: Good luck today.
SEAN: I can’t believe any of this.
SEAN: What a crazy ending!
SEAN: I miss you.
The Salt Sisters had written their “good luck” as well. Rose sent them several heart emoji and got off the plane.
Rose had never been to Montana. It hadn’t been high on Oren’s list of places to go. Perhaps that was why Natalie had picked it.
Rose grabbed her suitcase and rented a car. Natalie had sent her an address, and she followed the directions toa T to get her to the ranch by five that evening. A yolk sun drenched the fields and valleys in orange light. It was so stunningly beautiful that Rose thought she was going to sob.
Rose drove down a long gravel driveway toward a little house at the edge of a massive property. Horses and cows milled in the middle distance. A tractor sat next to a red barn. It was nothing like the life she’d known. It looked like a painting she’d once seen in an art museum.
Rose got out of the car with shaking legs.
“Rose?” A beautiful voice came from the doorway.
Rose turned. And there she was.
Natalie Quinne.
Of course, her name was Caitlin now. Caitlin Rains.
Natalie wore a soft white dress, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders in grays and browns and blonds. She’d likely forgotten to get everything touched up and then decided not to care anymore. Her smile was the same as in the photographs of her, Oren, and Howard from all those years ago. Her teeth were white.
Natalie and Rose stood in awe of each other. Rose curled her hands into fists. She wanted to fall to her knees and apologize to Natalie, but she didn’t know what she wanted to apologize for. For not caring? For not looking for her when she had the chance?
But Natalie had gotten away.
“Come inside,” Natalie said when Rose still couldn’t say anything.
Natalie led Rose through the little house and out the back, where a wooden porch sat before the jagged Montana mountains. Rose sat down as Natalie poured her a glass of iced tea. She then paused and gave Rose a look. “I might need something stronger,” she confessed.
“I’d love anything you’ve got,” Rose admitted.
Natalie returned with red wine from Napa and poured stiff glasses. She sat down and raised her glass. Rose told herself not to sob. She thought maybe she was dreaming.
Natalie’s alive. This isn’t a dream.
“I can’t believe you got that guy behind bars,” Natalie said.
Rose let out a laugh that turned into a sob. “It was his own fault,” she said finally. “He made an error. He messed with my art.” She swallowed. “He thought he could still mess withme, I guess. But I’m not the same as I was.”
