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to himself, thinking of Jane’s
leather backpack and beat-up leather bag. His father would probably
like Jane.
    “But don’t call her the model …call
’em the talent , son. They like it better.”
    Lars rolled his eyes. He knew to call them
the talent. He didn’t need a reminder. He changed the
subject.
    “When’re Erik and Kat getting to town?”
    “Week from today. Erik said they’d leave at
dawn, so probably here by Saturday lunchtime. Same with Jenny-girl
and hers. Magazine people leave for the airport on Friday night and
the talent’s headed down to the resort in Jackson Hole for Saturday
and Sunday.”
    Lars’s little brother Erik and his wife
Katrin were having their twin daughters, Dagmar and Heidi, baptized
at Grace Church in Gardiner next Sunday, which meant that next
weekend would be packed to the gills with family time while Samara
Amaya and Jane Mays enjoyed the delights of the five-star Amangani
Yellowstone.
    Not that Lars minded. He loved his family
and was mostly proud of his Scandinavian heritage. Only once in a
while, although he would never admit it aloud, it felt slightly
embarrassing to be so overtly ethnic. It made him feel protective
and defensive at once. If Miss Smart-Mouth thought that the cottage
all trussed up like the suite at a grand hotel was provincial, just
wait ’til she heard his father’s outdated style of speech. Then
again, she didn’t seem snotty like that, and Lars liked it that she
was with famous people all the time but somehow managed to seem so
normal.
    “ Midten , all okay?”
    His father regarded Lars with his own
ice-blue eyes. Lars realized he’d been frowning in thought.
    “ Ja, Pappa .” Lars looked at his
father’s aging face with love and nodded, “ Allt är
okej. ”
    His father smiled, returning to his
work.
    Lars caught Nils staring at him and raised
his eyebrows, but Nils shrugged, throwing the football back to his
younger brother.
    Lars caught it, then got up, grabbing a
Lindstrom & Sons embroidered fleece jacket from the coat tree
by the front door. “Guess I’ll go make sure the Best has a room
ready for Miss—for Jane.”
    “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,”
Nils cautioned merrily, and Lars turned and threw the football
back, hitting Nils squarely in the forehead before pulling the door
closed behind him.
    ***
    Jane was unpacking bag number six when she
remembered her phone was still off.
    “Craaaaap!” She ran into the little living
room area and fished it out of her backpack, turning it on.
    “Crap, crap, crap,” she muttered, shifting
her weight back and forth. It was one thing to take a break from
her phone for a two-hour car ride from the airport, but believing
that she could remain unavailable all day was not realistic or
smart.
    “Damage control,” she whispered as soon as
the main screen came up. Oh my God. Eighteen voice messages,
twenty-one e-mails and thirty texts. Good Lord!
    First, she accessed her e-mail and typed an
out-of-office automatic reply:
    Jane Mays is on location and may be
difficult to reach. Please be patient and she will return your
e-mail as soon as possible.
    Second, she accessed her voice mail and left
the identical out-of-office message there.
    Third, she turned off the “Read Receipts”
function on her texting. People wouldn’t know if she got their text
or not, so they’d have to call or e-mail to be sure, and then
they’d hear the out-of-office messages.
    She scrolled through the texts, and
immediately figured out the cause for so much clamor. Laney was
sick and wasn’t able to join Samara for the shoot.
    Jane put one hand on her hip, chewing her
lips as she read back through the message chain between SS
(SuperStar, Laney’s nickname for Samara) and LL (LovelyLaney,
Samara’s nickname for Laney).
    It’s strep AND an ear infection. MD says I
can’t go to Montana.
    -LL
    LL, I can’t do the shoot w/o u! Will b all
alone!
    -SS
    SS, u know I’d do anything for u! But, ears
could