“The intervention idea?”
“I think I found the perfect place. There’s a lovely resort in Wyoming that specializes in craft retreats. She can enjoy a class in the day and then relax with a spa treatment at night. Lots of nature. Lots of peace. Not a lot of noise or distractions.”
“What’s this place called?”
“Lost Creek. They hold a highly praised knitting retreat there every year.”
“Knitting? You’ll never convince her.” Wearily, Grace rubbed a cramp in her neck. “Jilly hates to knit. And she hates to be manipulated.”
“I know.” Caro hesitated. “And that, my friend, is where you come in… .”
CHAPTER FIVE
Oregon
Three weeks later
“BEHOLD THE NEW ME. Completely calm. Seriously relaxed.”
Jilly scowled at Grace, who was driving. “In fact you see before you the queen of relaxed. But there’s one problem. You can only take so many walks or read so many fluffy magazines before your brain starts to rot. So listen to me, Grace, because this is serious. I love Summer Island. It was nice for the first few days and totally great to see Olivia again. Your grandfather, too.” Jilly tugged back her hair in a vicious twist and dragged a rubber band around the thick strands. “But if I have to endure five more months of this fun, I may shoot someone. Most likely myself,” she muttered.
“Relax, Jilly.”
“Relax how?” Jilly glared up at the gray Oregon sky. “At least in Arizona, it was sunny. These gray skies are depressing.” Jilly sat up straighter, watching a road sign flash past. “You just took the wrong turn. We’re supposed to be going to that new restaurant in Portland.” Jilly’s head whipped around as Grace turned onto the freeway and took the exit for the airport. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to Portland.”
“Not exactly.” Grace pulled into a parking spot and waved at a nearby car. Caro and Olivia jumped out, beaming in excitement.
“What’s going on? Why are Caro and Livie here?”
“Because, my dear, sweet, idiotic best friend, they came to see you off. Caro has your suitcase packed and Livie bought you some new clothes.”
“Clothes? Why clothes?”
“Because you’re going on a trip and you’ll need them.”
“This is a joke, right? You planned some kind of a girls’ night out in Portland. Just don’t tell me it’s at a Chippendales place because my heart isn’t in it. My heart, get it?” Jilly’s face was stony. “I’m trying not to spoil the party here, Grace.”
“No Chippendales. I promise, you’ll like this. It’s a cooking retreat that I found on the web. It’s only offered every three or four years, so you’re in luck.”
Jilly began to smile. “Really? I could handle that. I never have time to improve my skills, and I could finally dig in and catch up.” She hesitated. “But the doctor told me no work—”
“You won’t be working.” Grace grinned. “You’ll take classes. No worry and no cleanup. Low stress all the way.”
“Wow. It sounds great.” Jilly waved at Caro and Olivia, who slid into the backseat. “Cool scarf, Livie.”
“I got the yarn in Florence. They really know how to live over there.” Olivia tapped on the suitcase near her feet. “I’ve loaded up on your favorite travel food, chocolate included. You’ll be in junk-food heaven. Caro packed the rest of your stuff, and I added a few clothes.”
Jilly looked shell-shocked. “You mean I’m going now? What about Duffy? What about my ticket?”
“All taken care of.” Olivia high-fived Jilly. “We’ll take care of your dog and everything else. This trip is our gift to you.”
“Seriously? You mean—”
“We mean you are going to go and have fun, Jilly. You’re going to start over and learn how to relax.”
Jilly rubbed her hands in excitement. “You guys are the best. You know that? I’ve told you that, haven’t I?”
Grace coughed and then pulled back onto the road. “Terminal 3, here we come.”
“Where is it? San Francisco? New York?”
“Wyoming,” the three others said in unison.
Jilly frowned. “I’ve never heard of any cooking programs there.”
“It’s all in your travel folder. Olivia will give it to you at the gate.” Caro frowned at Jilly. “And remember. No caffeine. No alcohol. No heavy exercise or stress. You’re supposed to take it easy.”
“Sure, sure. I can go without coffee now. I won’t buy a single cup while I’m gone. And no all-night keggers, I promise.” Jilly wriggled like a kid, eager for details. “So what is this place called?”
“Stop asking questions and move.” Grace eased the car to the check-in curb, motioning to Olivia in the backseat. “Olivia will go inside with you and help with your bag. She can answer any questions, too. We’ll circle a couple of times and wait for her. Now get moving.” She leaned over to hug Jilly. “Take care of yourself.”
Olivia jumped out first, but Jilly grabbed her suitcase away and charged inside.
Caro shook her head. “She’ll never change.”
“Don’t worry, Livie can handle her. By the time she realizes the truth, she’ll be on the ground in Wyoming.” Grace gave a guilty laugh. “And there are no more flights out tonight. I already checked. Like it or not, Jilly will be stuck there—on the vacation of a lifetime.”
Lost Creek, Wyoming
JILLY HAD ONLY LANDED ten minutes before, and her head was spinning from the whirlwind trip. So this was Wyoming.
She hadn’t expected the mountains to be so big.
And the airport to be so small.
She crossed the waiting area and frowned at the row of two dozen seats. “This is a mistake. This can’t be the airport for Lost Creek. It’s tiny.”
“No mistake, ma’am.” The attendant at the sleepy baggage claim glanced at Jilly and sized her up for a big city tourist. “You going up to the resort?”
“I thought I was going to someplace near Jackson Hole.”
The attendant laughed. “Quite a few peaks between you and Jackson. A couple million dollars in real estate values, too.” He pointed out to the curb. “You can get a taxi over there. May have to wait a bit. Joe just had a baby so they’re short-staffed.”
Jilly felt a headache building force. “How long would it take to drive to Jackson Hole?”
The attendant looked as though she’d made a rare joke. “Couldn’t do it. Not with all the mountains you’d have to cross. Why’d you want to go there anyway? Overpriced and overpopulated, if you ask me.”
“The restaurants for a start. The fresh produce.” Jilly closed her eyes. “The coffee,” she whispered with a sigh of longing. “Oh, yes, the coffee.”
“We got coffee here. Darned good coffee shop over on Main Street. This your bag?” He lifted the bright blue suitcase and sniffed. “Smells like chocolate.”
Jilly took the bag and frowned. It did smell like chocolate.
“Probably sitting on