by Emily March
He spied Maisy exit the door of her shop with a backpack slung over one shoulder. She carried a straw tote that advertised her flower shop. A woman who traveled light. His kind of girl.
Not that he was looking for a girl. Not in any permanent sense of the word, anyway. He was still a long way from being ready for that. When … if … Boone ever settled down, he intended to follow his parents’ example and build a marriage, a partnership, on a bedrock of love, trust, and respect. He could meet a woman and fall in love today. He had no problem respecting the women in his life. Those he didn’t respect didn’t remain in his life for long. But trust? Trust was the bugaboo.
Boone had been burned by betrayal, and his trust well was a dry hole.
A dry hole, but maybe no longer bone dry and covered with dust. Eternity Springs was said to be the place where broken hearts go to heal, and Boone was beginning to think it might be starting to work its magic on him. He detected just a faint touch of humidity in the well.
But that didn’t mean he was ready for a relationship. A flirtation, however, was right in his wheelhouse. So he quickly opened his door, hopped down from the SUV, and hurried to offer Maisy his assistance. “My oh my, Miss Maisy. Don’t you look pretty as a Parker County peach.”
She rolled her eyes, but the way they had brightened told him his compliment had scored a point. She said, “You are showing your Fort Worth roots.”
“There’s no place like home. No women like Texas women. Let me help you with your bags.” In a move smooth enough to earn his father’s approval and gentlemanly enough make his mother proud, Boone took possession of her bags and escorted her to the SUV.
After stowing her things in back, he gave a “ready” wave to the two cars behind him, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. He winked at Maisy. “Enchanted Canyon, here we come!”
Chapter Twelve
Waiting for the guests to arrive, Jackson was nervous as a virgin, which was stupid because most of the people coming this weekend were family and all of them knew it was a practice event. Besides, this was Celeste and Angelica’s deal, and the inn and restaurants had lots of moving parts to sync. He had a stage to set up for a band—something he’d done a million times.
He admitted to being excited about the band he’d invited to perform—mainly because the band members were beyond excited themselves. He’d heard them play three weeks ago during an open-mic afternoon at an outdoor café in Kerrville when he’d stopped to buy a burger for lunch. They had a sweet sound that played to their strengths. The drummer was their writer. Couldn’t hold a tune worth beans, but the man had a way with words. This would be their first paid gig and an expected crowd of two dozen, their largest audience.
Okay, maybe Jackson did understand why he was nervous, after all. He was nervous on the band’s behalf. They called themselves the Backroads Hazards. He wanted them to do well.
They would have a receptive audience, for sure. The Callahan men were big music lovers, and their ladies truly did love to dance. He wondered if the other women from Eternity Springs would take a turn at two-stepping. He wondered if Caroline Carruthers liked to dance.
Despite spending the majority of time in places with music and wood floors, Jackson seldom took a turn around one. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a chance to do so. He had every intention of taking a spin or two around the dance floor tonight with Maddie and Torie and anyone else with a tingle in their toes.
Caroline liked show tunes. He remembered that. Maybe she didn’t two-step, but surely she waltzed. Her husband had been a society guy. A waltz was a waltz was a waltz. Maybe he’d ask her to waltz. The Backroads Hazards would have a waltz to play. Every Texas country band had a waltz or twelve on their playlist. He’d be sure to suggest that they include a few tonight.
In fact, he needed to add that to his list for every act that came to the Last Chance. Because unless he had a marquee act booked in, he wanted every night at the hall to include dancing. Bands playing the Last Chance needed to provide a mix of music that made the audience want to sit and listen for bit, and then get up and dance for a while—rinse and repeat. As an artist, he didn’t particularly like it when someone told him what to play, but he’d always understood that venue managers understood their patrons. Good venue managers, anyway. He intended to be a good venue manager, and since he’d be building the Last Chance patronage from scratch, he could surround himself with the sort of people he wanted to hang with, couldn’t he?
Life might get in the way of music, but music never got in the way of life. Music was meant to be lived, to be celebrated.
He wanted to celebrate music with Caroline Carruthers.
“You are so screwed, McBride,” he muttered.
“You forgot about that second-floor light bulb that my cousin asked you to change, didn’t you?” Angelica said.
“What? Oh.” Jackson winced. “Dadgummit.”
“You’d better hurry. They’ll be here in seven minutes. Celeste will have a hissy fit if you’re not here to greet your cousin when he arrives.”
Right that. “Seven? You’re sure?”
She gave him a don’t-be-silly look over the top of her sunglasses. Angelica might be clumsy upon occasion—okay, many occasions. She might end up at loggerheads with Celeste on a daily—okay, hourly—basis, but the woman had an uncanny way of being right in her predictions.
He hauled butt for the supply closet, made one of the fastest light-bulb changes in history, and arrived on the porch to stand with the Blessings as three SUVs pulled into the parking lot beside the Fallen Angel Inn.
Jackson didn’t see Caroline’s car. The depth of his disappointment disturbed him. Yep, definitely screwed.
As if on cue, doors opened and people poured from the vehicles. Boone. Maisy Baldwin. The Callahan cousins from Brazos Bend—Matt and Torie, Luke and Maddie, Gabe and Nic, Brick and his wife, Liliana. Jackson didn’t recognize anyone else.
They all recognized Celeste. Her name went up on the afternoon air like a cheer. The women in the first car who Jackson didn’t recognize were a little faster than everyone else, and they made a beeline to meet her. Celeste descended the Fallen Angel’s front steps regal as a queen, floating forward with the peace and goodwill of an angel.
Beside Jackson, Angelica shifted restlessly during the group hug.
Then they all started talking at once. “Oh, Celeste, I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed all of you, too.”
“How gorgeous is this place?”
“I love canyons! They’re such surprises. And this one … we were traveling along a flat, boring, arid spot then BOOM … the floor drops away and it’s Eden.”
“Doesn’t this house look inviting. It’s your signature yellow. Why am I not surprised?”
Angelica leaned closer to Jackson and murmured, “Yellow has always been my favorite color. Hers was always blue. Still is.”
Jackson slung his arm around Angelica’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “I think the broken-wing design on the fan blades is pretty darned awesome.” After she gave him a grateful smile, he slipped his arm through hers to escort her down the steps. “Let’s go meet our guests.”
Jackson was pleased to see the bellboys, aka “luggage wranglers,” wheeling their carts toward the parking lot where the men of the party were unloading bags. “Off to a good start,” he murmured to Angelica, giving a nod to the wranglers as he and his innkeeper approached the Fallen Angel’s first guests.
Being a Texan and a gentleman, Jackson tipped his hat. “Ladies, welcome to the Fallen Angel Inn.”
Angelica beamed a smile. “I hope you have a fabulous time at our whorehouse.”
“Angelica!” Celeste snapped.
“Former whorehouse.”
“Bordello! We agreed to use the word bordello!”
Angelica shrugged. “Bordello. Brothel. Cathouse. House of ill repute. Everybody knows what we’re talking about.”
“
Nevertheless—“
“I’m Jackson McBride,” he said, interrupting the potential squabble by thrusting his hand out toward the nearest female, a perky, petite brunette.
“I’m Sarah Murphy. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jackson. I feel as if we already know you. Boone has talked a lot about you and Tucker.”
Jackson ticked through the guest list. Sarah Murphy owned a bakery in Eternity Springs and was a very close friend of the Callahan clan. Of course, all these people seemed to be close friends. He gave Sarah an easy grin and replied, “I can’t say I find that comforting. Boone has always been free with the facts.”
Then gesturing to Angelica, he said, “Allow me to introduce our innkeeper, Angelica Blessing.”
To a woman, they lit up like Christmas trees. Also to a woman, they failed to completely hide their surprise at the contrast between the cousins. A classy blonde stepped forward and said, “Celeste’s cousin! I’m Ali Timberlake. What fabulous hair you have! I always wanted to be a redhead.”
“Thank you.” Angelica raised her chin. “My cousin believes it’s a fitting color for someone who runs a—”
“Angelica!” Celeste snapped.
“Inn. The Fallen Angel Inn. Ali, I believe you are the restaurateur, correct? Thank you so much for the recipes you shared with our chef. That was so kind of you to do.”
“I’m thrilled to help.” Ali linked her arm through Celeste’s. “Celeste has always been so generous. It’s been nice to do something to help her in return.”
“Yes,” Angelica replied, thick syrup in her tone. “She’s such an angel, isn’t she?”
The other women introduced themselves in turn: Sage Rafferty—another gorgeous redhead, the artist, Jackson recalled; and Jenna Murphy, a physician and Sarah’s new daughter-in-law. The rest of the party caught up them at that point, and Jackson greeted all his female Texas cousins with a kiss on the cheek and the males with a handshake. He was introduced to Mac Timberlake, Cam Murphy, Colt Rafferty and finally, Devin Murphy.
“Devin Murphy!” In addition to the handshake, Jackson gave Devin a slap on the back. “You don’t know how! anxious I’ve been to meet you. I want to buy you a beer!”
“Oh yeah?” Devin said, the lilt of Australia in his tone. “I never turn down free beer. But, why?”
“You broke Boone’s nose!”
An expression of righteous indignation crossed Devin’s face. “He deserved it. He kissed my woman.”
“He’s deserved a broken nose many times, but you’re the first person to give him one. For that, I salute you.”
“Bite me,” Boone said. He greeted first Angelica and then Celeste with a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, angels. Are you ready to get this party started?”
“That we are,” Celeste said. “Angelica?”
She cast a nervous glance toward Jackson, who gave her a reassuring wink. Drawing a deep breath, she offered them a brilliant smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, please, follow me.”
Jackson and Boone waited behind as the Blessings led their guests inside. “Buy you a beer?”
“Absolutely. Next door?”
“Best saloon in town.”
Five minutes later, they were seated in the rustic pine porch rockers holding frosty bottles of beer imported from Shiner, Texas, about a hundred miles away. They discussed a few pesky management issues and the schedule for the weekend, and then Boone asked oh-so-casually, “So, about Maisy Baldwin.”
Jackson knew that tone. He took a sip of his beer in order to stall and give himself a moment to think it through. Did he want to give his cousin grief just for the hell of it? Ordinarily, he wouldn’t think twice about doing exactly that. But today, honestly, he just wasn’t in the mood.
Well, maybe he was in the mood a little bit. He lowered his bottle from his lips and said, “Dibs.”
Boone muttered a curse, and Jackson laughed. “I’m kidding. Just kidding. Just don’t lead her on. Maisy is really nice. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”
Boone scowled at him. “I don’t hurt women.”
Jackson held up a hand. “I know. I know. My apologies.”
Boone was a flirt, but he was an honest flirt. And being a lawyer and a man with baggage, he hardly kissed a woman without getting a permission slip beforehand, signed in triplicate and notarized, prior to lips touching lips.
“Remember that dog that Tucker’s next-door neighbor had when we were growing up? The bird dog? Her name was Shine?”
“The springer? Yeah.”
“Sweet dog. She’d sit at your feet look up at you still as a statue and I swear, she’d even nod her head as if in agreement with what you said. ‘Don’t jump, Shine.’ ‘Go get the ball, Shine.’ You’d think she was the best-trained dog in the world.”
“Yeah, I remember. She’d listen to you, then do whatever the hell she wanted to do.”
Jackson lifted his beer in toast. “I present to you Maisy Baldwin.”
Boone laughed. “Nothing wrong with a headstrong girl. She sure is pretty.”
“That she is.”
Boone gave him a sidelong glance. “You’ve never considered looking that direction?”
“No. I’m not looking, period. The last thing I need is another woman in my life.” Jackson’s thoughts turned to Caroline, and he knew he hadn’t told the complete truth.
Quietly and sincerely, Boone said, “I get that after the hell Sharon put you through, that you are gun shy, but if you let that stop you from living a full life, all you’re doing is giving her power.”
“Pot. Kettle.”
“I know. I know. I’m climbing that mountain.”
“Gonna stop by home on your way back to Eternity Springs?”
Boone rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. “Still have a way to go before I reach the summit.”
Jackson took a pull on his beer, considered, and then shook his head. “We are a pair of head cases.”
“Yep. Lucky for us Tucker isn’t around much. He’d kick our asses if he realized how wussified we’ve become.”
“True that.” Jackson stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Have you heard anything from him recently?”
“Actually, he called me yesterday. He was in an airport somewhere. Connection was crap and the call dropped pretty quickly, but I made out that he was healthy and had some sort of news to share.”
“That’s interesting. I think the last time Tucker shared news, the Rangers were playing in the World Series.”
“I know. I kept hoping he’d call back, but it didn’t happen.”
“He probably got promoted to general or something. Skipped right over a rank or two.”
“I doubt the Army has enough sense to do that.”
Movement on the road distracted Jackson from the conversation. He pulled his legs in and sat up as he recognized the little BMW convertible heading toward them. Caroline.
“Sweet little ride,” Boone observed.
“That’s Caroline.”
“The Caroline who lost her husband? She’ll be here this weekend?”
Jackson nodded. “Celeste sponsored some sort of Chamber of Commerce drawing, and she won. She’s bringing a friend who’ll be sharing a room with Maisy. Total smoke show. A brunette named Gillian.”
“Oh yeah?” Boone asked with interest. Flirting with two ladies simultaneously was no problem for someone with his deft abilities.
“She’s taken. Engaged to some guy who plays a lot of golf.”
Boone grimaced. “I hope that doesn’t mean that this weekend is gonna be twenty-four/seven wedding talk. Since Devin and Jenna’s wedding, we’re finally getting a tulle-and-lace breather in Eternity Springs. It’s a beatdown, I’m telling you. Just brutal.”
“If it gets too bad, I suggest you catch up on your reading. Angelica has brought in some interesting titles.” Jackson finished the remainder of his beer, rose to his feet, and tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can. He headed down the walk, but when h
e turned back toward the inn rather than toward the dance hall, Boone called after him, “Hey, I thought you were going to show me the Last Chance?”
“I’m the manager, not the tour guide. Go see it yourself. I’ve got to go say hello to a beautiful woman.”
Boone’s interested voice trailed after him. “You’re sniffing after the widow? Well now, isn’t this interesting?”
“Maybe. Could be. I don’t know.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t think I’m any nearer to the summit than you are, cuz. But I’m beginning to think that maybe we gotta keep climbing, you know?”
“Maybe.” Boone hurried to catch up with him. “That’s a big step for you, Jackson. Sounds like you’ve come a long way since you put Nashville in your rearview mirror.”
“Considering I still have a great big hole in my heart because of the situation with Haley, yeah, I guess I have. Maybe Celeste wasn’t just blowing smoke when she came up with Enchanted Canyon’s marketing tagline. My ‘troubled soul’ seems to be finding some peace.”
“Celeste is nails, I’m telling you.”
Jackson spared his cousin a glance. “Is your broken heart healing in Eternity Springs, Boot?”
“Jeez, we’d better stop,” Boone said with a grimace. “We’re starting to sound like a couple of women. If we don’t want to lose our man cards, we’d better either scratch our asses and belch our beer really loud or go flirt with the pretty ladies over at the Fallen Angel.”
“Sexist pig.” Jackson picked up his pace. “Last one to the parlor has to put on a skirt.”
Chapter Thirteen
Caroline pulled into the parking space, shifted into park, switched off the ignition, then turned to smile at her passenger. “Are you ready?”
“You know what? I am.” Gillian Thacker tore her gaze away from the inn, saloon and dance hall long enough to smile at Caroline and say, “All of a sudden, I think maybe I’m happy about Jeremy’s last-minute golf weekend, after all. Isn’t this a welcoming place?”
“Wait until you see what they’ve done inside,” Caroline said as she opened her door and climbed from the car. “It’s really fabulous.”
