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  Hank’s face was equally lived-in. No plastic surgery for either of those two, Mira thought, and liked them the better for it. He was lean and gray as well, his features large and not handsome, but he shared the same sharpness of eye and quirk to the corners of his mouth as his wife and longtime partner. Mira hoped that, however this show was going to be arranged, she’d get to spend some time with the two of them. Because that looked like it would be a lot of fun. And who knows, they might even sing.

  “And now that we’ve done the hard part,” Cliff said after the introductions were complete, “we’re going to take a fifteen-minute break to sort out some logistics here, and give you all a little more opportunity to chat. Coffee’s over on the side wall, and I strongly advise you to take advantage of it while you can. Because your life is about to get a whole lot tougher.” He disappeared through his door again, and the group stood, headed in the general direction of the coffeepot, broke into little groups.

  “Hank and Zara. Well, that’s pretty thrilling,” Mira’s neighbor Kevin said as they stood and waited for their turn at the coffee. Scott, she saw, was chatting to their other neighbors, the Zero Technology People, as she’d privately dubbed them. “I do love me my celebrities.”

  “I’m so excited,” Mira confessed, “I’ll probably do something embarrassing like ask them for their autograph. I grew up on their songs.”

  “Probably best not to say that,” Kevin’s sister Rachel laughed behind him. “That wouldn’t be too diplomatic. But by the way, what’s the deal on the name thing?”

  “What name thing?”

  “Yours. You renamed yourself, and your boyfriend doesn’t like it? Or what?”

  “Oh. No big deal. My name’s Almira,” she said, looking around to make sure Scott wasn’t watching before adding a generous dollop of half & half to the coffee she had just poured. She turned, discovering with a start that Alec and Gabe were standing directly behind her. Only realized she was tilting her coffee cup when she felt the fiery touch of the hot liquid hitting her hand, running down her dress. She exclaimed in distress, hastily transferred her cup to the other hand and shook her right hand in the air to rid it of the scalding liquid. What an idiot. What was she, sixteen? And her dress was pale yellow. Pale yellow with brown splotches, now. That was attractive.

  “You OK?” Alec asked her with concern. “Burn yourself?” He handed his own cup to his brother and took her hand in his, patted it dry with a napkin.

  “I’m fine,” she said, fully embarrassed now. “Just clumsy. I’m all right.”

  “Sure?” he persisted, still holding her hand.

  “Positive,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It just startled me.”

  “You were explaining your name,” Alec said. “Or should I say, your dual personality.” His brother stood by, his dark gaze intent on her, and she felt more awkward than ever.

  “Your name,” Alec prompted, finally letting go of her hand.

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “They’re both my names. Almira Grace. I go by Mira, normally.”

  “Almira. Princess,” Alec said. “In Arabic. Perfect.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked in surprise. “It’s not exactly a common name. It was my great-grandmother’s. Old-fashioned, I know.”

  “I know many things,” he said portentously. “Many useless things,” he added with a charmingly sweet smile that, Mira thought, he’d used before. And often. “But they come in handy sometimes.”

  “Well, Scott doesn’t like Mira much. And he doesn’t like Almira at all. So he calls me Grace instead.”

  “He refuses to call you by your name?” Rachel said in disbelief. “That’s not good, huh, Kevin?”

  “I’d call that a major relationship red flag,” Kevin agreed. “Mr. Wrong—Here’s Your Sign. And I should know. Because, honey, I’m the world’s expert at dating Mr. Wrong.” He struck a camp attitude, hand on hip, that had Mira laughing guiltily despite his cataloging of Scott.

  “And there he goes, flinging himself out of the 1885 closet,” Rachel said, putting a muscular arm around her brother and giving him a squeeze. “Ready or not, here he comes. Can’t keep a good man down.”

  “I can’t imagine that’s going to be a problem here, though,” Mira said. “Not in this day and age.” She looked at Alec and Gabe, who gave almost identical shrugs. Wow. They really were twins.

  Kevin looked at her in amusement. “You haven’t been around the block too many times, have you? I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a problem for somebody. But it’s their problem.”

  The brothers turned away as the women Mira was already thinking of as “the blondes” approached. Rachel looked after them, then turned to Mira with a grin on her friendly face, surrounded by a riot of curly brown hair as exuberant as her personality. “They’ve covered all the bases, haven’t they?” she asked. “You’ve got your hot girls, your hot boys—” She nodded at the Kincaid brothers. “They outdid themselves there. Twins. Yum. Imagine the possibilities.” She sighed with satisfaction. “Fun times. Anyway. Your gay guy, your African-American and Hispanic contestants, your minor celebrities, your obnoxious know-it-all couple . . .”

  “And the couple you’re hoping will break up onscreen,” Kevin added.

  “Who’s that?” Mira asked suspiciously.

  “That would be you,” he answered. “That’s why you’re on the show. Because he is such a tool. There has to be somebody we all love to hate, and honey, I can already tell you’re with him. That body language. Like he just can’t wait to step up and show us all how it’s done. And ‘I’m in it to win it?’ Classic.”

  “Come on. He isn’t always like that,” she said defensively. “OK, that was kind of . . .”

  “Arrogant?” Kevin asked. “Indicative of jerkitude?”

  “Kevin,” Rachel scolded. “Stop it. You trying to make enemies already? That’s her boyfriend.”

  “He’s nervous, that’s all,” Mira said. “Most of the time, he’s a really nice guy.”

  “We’ll all see soon enough,” Kevin said, clearly unconvinced. “Reality shows are all about those stress points. That’s what I love about them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Theory time,” Rachel said with a grin at Mira. “Don’t worry. You get used to it.”

  “How much reality TV have you watched?” Kevin asked Mira, ignoring his sister.

  “Not that much,” Mira admitted. “An episode here and there. Survivor, The Amazing Race, this one. In the hotel room at night, when there isn’t much on.”

  “Why did you come on the show, if you’re not a fan? Never mind, I can already guess. Boyfriend’s idea, and you went along with it.”

  “It may have been his idea initially, but I wanted to do it too.” Had surprised herself, in fact. It hadn’t been the money. She’d just wanted to know if she could do it, if she could make it through something so tough. She’d never been camping, never participated in team sports. But somehow, she’d thought she might be able to do this.

  “Kevin,” Rachel chided, “quit being bitchy.”

  “Right, reality TV,” Kevin said. “If you’d watched as much as I have, you’d know that people come on the show with all these strategies of how they’re going to behave, how they’ll appear to the other contestants. And lo and behold, a week in, their true self has come out. Because no matter how hard you try, you can’t hide who you are when you’re with people 24/7. That’s what makes these shows so addictive. Especially the self-delusion part. Bet your boyfriend thinks he’s smarter than the average bear, doesn’t he? Stronger, smarter, shrewder, am I right?”

  “Maybe,” Mira conceded. Absolutely, she thought. But Scott was strong and smart, and determined too. Was it so bad to have confidence in yourself? She’d always wished she felt as sure of herself as he did.

  “One week,” Kevin predicted. “And everyone on the show is going to have formed their own opinion.”

  Mira was grateful when Cliff called them together a
gain after the break. She liked sharp, incisive Kevin and ebullient Rachel, but their blunt honesty had rubbed against more than a few raw nerves. Scott really wasn’t coming across well, she thought in despair. Maybe there was some way to suggest—tactfully, of course—that he dial it down. He could be charming when he tried. That was how he’d attracted her, after all.

  “Now,” Cliff went on when they were assembled again, “time for a little history. The people who actually settled this area came from all over, just like all of you. Some from even farther—Scandinavia, Germany. And, like you, they came from all different backgrounds. Some knew how to farm, how to care for animals, and some didn’t have a clue. If we were really being authentic about this, we’d just dump you out there on the bare ground with some animals and a few tools and supplies, and let you fend for yourselves, sink or swim. Most of you would fail, and some of you would die. Which would be good TV, but unfortunately, these days, there are these little things we call lawyers.”

  He paused with the true showman’s instinct for another laugh from his audience. “So we’re going to do this in stages. And if you’ll go back to your rooms and get packed up, we’ll get to that first stage in . . .” He looked theatrically at his watch. “Exactly half an hour. Out front. Those of you who drove in, leave your keys with Jay here, and he’ll see that your cars are stored. Otherwise, see you in thirty minutes.”

  “Will our arrangements there, at this first stage, be period?” Martin asked as Cliff turned to leave. “I’d like to start acclimating myself as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cliff answered with amusement. “You’re going to get all the authenticity you can handle soon enough. Believe me, I’ve never had anyone say, ‘I wish this was harder.’”

  “We can handle hard,” Scott said confidently. “We’re ready.”

  “He’d better not be on our team,” Alec muttered to Gabe as they left the room after handing their car key in to Jay as they went. “I’ll accidentally chop something off within a week, I guarantee it.”

  “Which one?” Gabe asked wryly.

  “Either of them.”

  “Threat analysis,” Alec added as soon as their motel room door swung shut behind Gabe.

  “Damn. I lose,” Gabe said, glancing at his watch.

  “Huh? Lose what?”

  “I thought it’d take you ten seconds to start planning strategy once we were back here.” Gabe began folding clothes and placing them into his suitcase, watching with amusement as his brother flung items willy-nilly into his own bag, tossed onto the middle of his unmade bed.

  “Come on,” Alec said impatiently. “You’re at least as competitive as I am. You can’t con me with that saintly act. We’re here anyway, thanks to you. We might as well win. Biggest threats—Hank and Zara, definitely.”

  “Older,” Gabe pointed out. “Presumably not as strong on the physical parts. Though they both look tough enough.”

  “And the celebrity factor,” Alec said. “Don’t underestimate that. Other than them . . . maybe Stanley and Calvin. Stanley’s older too, but I’ll bet he can work. Rachel and Kevin . . . wild card. Depends how seriously they take it, especially him. She’s freaky-strong, and tough too, I’ll bet. A river raft guide? Wouldn’t want to arm-wrestle her. Yeah, they could do it.”

  “You don’t think Chelsea and Melody are going to go all the way?” Gabe grinned.

  “Not in the game, that’s for damn sure. With you and me? I’d bet on that. Maybe together, even,” Alec went on, holding a dirty shirt in his hand, a faraway look on his face. “You ever do it with two girls? Back before you became such an upstanding citizen, of course. In the football days?”

  “I did a lot of stupid things back then,” Gabe said dismissively. “And I don’t want to hear your sordid stories either. Back to the game. Maria-Elena’s too young—for anything,” he added with a warning glance at his brother.

  Alec held his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “No argument. I don’t do teenagers. And game-wise, you’re right. Not exactly a ruthless competitor—well, either of them, for that matter. Mr. and Mrs. Granola, now . . .”

  “Mr. Granola and Ms. Hemp, please,” Gabe corrected. “Way too annoying. They’re already pissing people off. And you haven’t mentioned Mira and Scott,” he pointed out before ducking into the bathroom to retrieve toiletries.

  “No threat,” Alec said positively, reaching a quick hand out to grab the bottle of shampoo Gabe tossed him.

  “He looks as strong as you,” Gabe needled. “Same gym muscles. Not as strong as me, but then,” he said with a mock-satisfied sigh, “so few people are. And he already told us all how seriously he’s taking it.”

  “He’s the guy fidgeting in line ahead of you at Starbucks, checking his iPhone and snapping at the barista for taking too long with his half-caf nonfat extra-hot latte with no foam,” Alec said. “Never going to make it out here. Not a chance. Either we’ll all kill him, or he’ll implode.”

  “Bet she’ll do all right, though,” Gabe said. “A little quiet, but really sweet. And there’s something solid there.”

  “Yeah, but she’s with him, for some bizarre reason. That’s her weak spot. What would you call that color of eyes?”

  “Hazel,” Gabe answered shortly.

  “Almost gold. Really pretty. One hell of a kissable mouth. And the way she looks up at you, a little shy . . . that’s nice. That cuddly body, too . . . She’s even got freckles on her nose. I’m a sucker for freckles. She’s really growing on me. Yeah, it’d be good to take her away from him,” Alec decided. “For all kinds of delicious reasons.”

  “You’re not doing that.” Gabe was dead serious now as he looked at his brother.

  “Quit trying to be my freaking conscience,” Alec said with annoyance. “I have one of my own, you know. There’s no ring on her finger. He’s not treating her right, and he doesn’t deserve her. It wouldn’t be a sin, it’d be a public service.”

  “All points granted. But you’re still not doing it. You’re not pulling that stuff on her. She deserves something more than that.”

  “Whoa, boy. Going after somebody who’s in a relationship? Not really up to your high moral standards, is it? And I thought you weren’t rescuing anymore.”

  “She doesn’t need rescuing,” Gabe said with conviction. “She’s just with the wrong guy.”

  “And I suppose you’re the right guy?”

  “You never know.”

  Welcome to 1885

  “Whew.” Alec fell across the narrow iron bed in the rustic cabin less than eight hours later. “Not sure how I even ate dinner. I about did a faceplant into the beans at one point there. I’m too tired to take off my boots.”

  “Well, you’d better do it anyway, and get your butt in the shower,” Gabe told him, sitting on his own bed to untie his bootlaces. “Because I’m not sleeping next to anybody who stinks that bad.”

  Alec turned his head far enough to look at his twin out of one blue eye. “Don’t think there’ll be showers where we’re going. Might as well get used to it.”

  Gabe pulled his T-shirt over his head and slapped his brother across the chest with the sweat-stained thing. “Up.”

  Shedding his filthy jeans while he listened to the water running in the tiny, metal-walled shower that took up half the space in the Spartan bathroom, Gabe permitted himself a wince or two of his own. He’d thought he was in pretty good shape, but he was going to be feeling his shoulders tomorrow. And this had only been the afternoon.

  It had started out mildly enough, with a forty-five-minute trip through rolling fields of yellow and green, a few tiny towns barely more than a couple streets wide, getting ever closer to the blue mountains beyond, until they reached an area beyond the farmland, where evergreen trees were interspersed with the occasional open space. And pulled into a gravel parking lot with a long, low log building directly ahead of them, and a number of tiny log cabins scattered around. As the vans rolled to a stop, two huge, furry animals l
umbered forward to greet them.

  “Well, hi,” Gabe said, jumping down and putting out a hand to one of the big dogs. “Who are you?”

  “That’s Duke.” A lean man in faded Wranglers and well-worn boots had come to join the dogs. Gray hair and leathery brown skin spoke of a lifetime outdoors. “And I’m John. I’m here to show you the ins and outs of this homestead business, and Duke and Daisy are here to keep the critters away while you’re out there.”

  Gabe gave the big head a scratch as he introduced himself. “Bernese Mountain Dogs, huh?”

  “Yep. Need something of a good size where you’ll be. Nothing like a good dog when a bear comes sniffin’ around.”

  Both men turned at the shriek. Maria-Elena was pressed back against the van as far as she could get, her hands up beside her head, while Daisy nosed her pocket.

  “Daisy. Come!” John ordered. The big dog turned immediately, trotting over obediently to sit at John’s feet.

  “She won’t hurt you,” he assured Maria-Elena. The others were gathering around now, grabbing the suitcases and bags the drivers unloaded from the backs of the vans.

  “I don’t like dogs,” Maria-Elena said tremblingly, still pressed against the back of the van. “Nobody said there’d be dogs.”

  John looked at her a bit incredulously. “You’ll be mighty glad to have a dog around when the deer come to get your garden.”

  “I like deer,” the girl protested. “They’re pretty.”

  “Not when they eat your garden down to a nub, they’re not,” John said prosaically. “But you’re going to need to get used to these guys. Come on over and meet her.”

  “It’s OK.” Gabe smiled down at the girl as she made her hesitant approach. “They’re well trained. I’ll stand right here by you. Put the back of your hand out for her to sniff.” He took Maria-Elena’s hand in his own, let the dog sniff both of them, feeling the young girl trembling at his side. “See? Now she knows you. Now just rub her head a little. That’s it. All right?”