by Susan Arden
“Well, I’ve a few minutes before tee time.”
Gillian greeted each of the ladies, listening to the recent news: birth of a great-grandchild, the graduation of a grandson. One woman was planning a trip to Alaska and outlined her complete itinerary. Nana held up her hands. “Well, Gillian’s come to visit us. So I think I’ll exert my grandmotherly rights. If you’ll excuse us all. ”
The women motioned them on. Nana guided Gillian and her grandfather out to the garden and along the path they usually walked when the weather permitted. They all sat under the shade of an old oak tree. “Here are a couple of things I picked up. Thought you might enjoy them.”
“Oh, Gillian, you’re so thoughtful.” Nana looked inside the bag and pulled out a box of chocolate-covered almonds. “These are so delicious. My doctor says I should watch the sweets, but these are such a treat.”
Her grandfather snorted. “Half a story is not the truth. Don’t let her fool ya.”
Gillian cocked her head at her grandmother. “When did your doctor tell you to watch your diet?”
Her grandmother continued to bring out the contents of the bag. “Thank you for remembering the inner soles. They help so much.”
“Nana. Don’t ignore me. What did Dr. Lynch say?”
“Pish-tosh. He’s a worrywart, is all. Nothing to concern yourself about.”
Gillian glanced over to her grandpa. He shrugged under the glare of his wife. Dear God. Was everyone in her family related to a tortoise in some form? Their best game plan was to ignore a problem. “No. Nana. That is not going to work. Glare and pout all you like. We are going to listen to Dr. Lynch. Especially if he told you something. Now what…did he say? And if you don’t tell me, I will call him and explain why I’m calling.” Gillian eyed the box of candy.
Her grandmother’s eyes widened and she picked up the small box of candy, stroking it gently. “Dr. Lynch did a blood test, is all. Said to watch my diet. He suggested that I should lose some weight. I go to Zumba and the cardio class in the pool. So truly, it’s not a big thing. I’m watching my calcium and cholesterol. Please, darling, don’t let this concern you. I promise not to gobble these in one serving. I’ll take them to the next bridge night and share.”
“Nana, if I find out that you’ve tried to snooker me, I’ll be greatly disappointed.”
“Well, you won’t, so don’t look for problems where there aren’t any. I appreciate your concern, but you’ve always been a bit of a worrier, my dearest.”
She gasped. Is that what she did? “I never thought of myself as a worrier.”
“You’re not,” her grandpa interjected.
“Gracious. I don’t mean in a bad way. Just, you’ve had the world on your shoulders. And today when you came in I thought, my, you almost appear as if you’re floating. Don’t let me spoil your mood with talk of diets and exercise. What’s got you so happy it’s spilling out? Even these old eyes can see you’re not the same.”
“I don’t know. The spring show is coming up. I’m done with the costumes. Just like you said to do. Everything looks wonderful.” Nana had worked with Gillian on the designs, giving her instructions on what to buy and how to construct most of her students’ spring costumes.
When Nana was younger she’d worked as a seamstress, having her own shop on Main Street, where she specialized in bridal gowns and formals. Part showroom and part design and sewing area, it had been where Gillian’s studio was now.
“Ladies, I must be going,” her grandfather said. “Besides, I think your Nana wants to speak to you in private. Don’t be too nosy, dear.” He kissed Gillian and then rubbed his estranged wife’s shoulder.
Nana waited until he was down the path. “I’m not as old as you think. This ray of sunshine in your face isn’t related to a troop of children twirling around. Lovely as they are. I still speak with Edna.”
Gillian choked. Edna was her grandmother’s oldest friend and neighbor back at the duplex. She could feel a blush spread over her cheeks.
Nana inhaled. “Here, let’s make this easier. Why don’t you start with his name?”
That didn’t make anything easier. “His name is Stephen. And I like him.”
“I’ve no doubt. Edna say’s there’s been a lot of people coming and going lately. But you’ve been appearing at odd times. Stephen what?”
Her head reared back. She started to say that Edna should mind her own business, but she stopped herself. Gillian flexed her toes, buying time to ponder her response. “Edna isn’t doing you much good if she’s reporting on Haden and me without our being able to explain. Or defend. It’s not fair to you or me, Nana.”
“I didn’t catch Stephen’s last name.”
“Nana, before you go on and on, please remember, this isn’t the 1950s. He’s a McLemore.”
“For heaven’s sake. Eugene’s grandson. Silver-tongued, if he’s anything like the elder McLemore. And slippery, like a river eel. Child, best take care. If you can.”
“Nana, please don’t make it seem like history repeats itself.”
“I’ve no intention of raking you over the coals. Only ,you need not try to gloss things over, like with Haden. He hasn’t visited for over a month. Something is wrong. Wouldn’t you say?”
Gillian didn’t want to be another Edna. “I think Haden is off-track. My friend is going to help me with Haden. Get him back on track. When I know what the options are, I will tell you. Right now, I don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with. I promise, Nana, I will share the details, but I want Haden to be here. Not talk about him behind his back. He’s gotten very popular. Probably finding himself with too many friends, too fast, for his own good.”
“I see. And you’d tell me if you had too much to handle.”
“Absolutely. Yes.” Her mind swam. “I’ll know more in a couple of days.”
“All right. I know you’re very resourceful and strong-spirited. Then let me change the subject. The dance contest. What news?”
“Oh, Nana. It’s all up in the air as well. All I know is that I’ve agreed to a meeting with the producers. They’re setting up a flight to Los Angeles and a hotel. We’ll see. I don’t know if they call everyone, and then weed out the contestants that might not be television material. I don’t know if I’m glamorous enough for prime-time television. I’m not holding my breath.”
“This one time, I’d count my chickens. The producer sent me a thank you note.”
Gillian reached out to cover her grandmother’s hand with her own, and squeezed. “Nana, they copy and send out hundreds of emails. Don’t take it too seriously.”
“I’m not talking about email. I do have my own Gmail account, but look here.” Her Nana dug into the pocket of her shirt. “See, a handwritten note. I think they’re quite serious. Mr. Fitzgerald’s own linen stationery.”
Gillian read the note her grandmother handed to her. She inhaled, not knowing what to say. Ely Fitzgerald had sent a personal note to Nana. “I’m speechless.”
“Don’t neglect his call or email. I think this means they are very interested in you.”
“I don’t know. I’ve Haden to think about.”
“Nothing doing. Your grandfather and I can handle this part of the country while you visit California. Annona won’t disappear while you’re gone.”
* * *
All she needed to do was get someone to fill in at the studio. One person came to mind. If she would promise not to say a thing to her brother. Gillian dialed Cory’s number. She’d given Cory private dance lessons for years. If anyone could lead a dance class, it would be Cory McLemore.
“Yeepers, doll?” Cory said, answering the phone.
“I need a favor. Well, two, actually. First, can you fill in for me at the studio for the evening classes?”
“Me? I’d love to. When?”
“Next week, I think. I’m traveling to L.A. There’s the regular Sunday evening and Tuesday classes, and I’m also giving a lesson to Martha and her wedding party. Waltz lessons.
Nothing impossible.”
“Seriously. I’m invited to her wedding and one of the groom’s men is a dream. I’ll make him my tutorial project. Yes. Please. Yes.”
Good, she had a willing substitute, and one who wanted this more than she. “Cory, the other favor is keeping this between us.”
“You mean, from my brother. The one who believes you hung the moon in the sky?”
“I mean all your brothers. And yes, especially Stephen. I don’t know who talks to whom, and if they’re like women, I don’t want this to get out.”
“Why would Stephen care if you’re going to L.A.?”
“Not him, really. This is silly. I’m doing this for Nana. She entered me into a contest. I can’t let her down. Not when she’s always had this dream of me being famous. ”
“Don’t you love the elderly? They think nothing is impossible for their grandkids.”
“So, will you do it? Sub, and zip your lips?”
“I promise. I won’t say a peep to Stephen or any of those lug nut brothers of mine.”
Chapter 10
When Stephen overheard two of the ranch workers talking about their late-night partying with Haden Sinclair, he stopped wrangling a fence post into the ground. His breathing became more and more labored with each guffaw and elbow to the ribs the men exchanged as they recounted Haden’s performance and the after-party.
For days, his crew had removed decayed five-inch-square wooden posts and installed new ones on the northeast ridge, keeping the cattle from roaming off this section of Evermore. So far, his work crew held the lead in a wager between him and his brothers on who would finish first this week. Men worked leveling new posts into each jackhammered hole, and then poured bags of concrete and mixed water drawn from the large tank on the supply truck.
Stephen oversaw a crew of men while working a 60-pound jackhammer to blast away the old cement and rock. Sweat didn’t dribble, it coursed down his neck, chest and back on days like today. Yet, with the talk about Haden, his whole body didn’t respond to the sweltering heat. A chill took hold, and all he could see was a redheaded vision in his bed. Gillian would be walking into a catastrophe from the descriptions he’d heard. He cursed, throwing his work gloves into the back of the pick-up truck.
“I’ve got some emergency business to attend to in town. Won’t be long.” Stephen barked at his crew manager. “Same work, different day. Just keep at it. If either Matt or my father shows up, tell them to phone me.”
He pulled his cellphone from his pocket. Hell, out here he couldn’t get a signal to save his life. God help them all if his father or brother actually needed to reach him. His breathing quickened as he jumped into the cab of his truck.
“Fuck,” he muttered, flooring the gas pedal. With the windows open, the dust entered and choked him. He wanted to shake Haden, and would have if they’d still been as close as before. Shit for brains, if this is how his friend was handling fame. Stephen shook his head remorsefully, remembering Haden had been dealt an unfair hand in losing his parents. The thought pierced deeper when he thought of Gillian and her loss, as well.
Stephen stopped at his house to change rides. On a motorcycle, he could weave between traffic at this time of day. Take to the median if he needed to, in order to get to Gillian.
The ride had been quick on the interstate and, approaching her street corner, he slowed at spotting her car parked down from her duplex. The dance studio sticker confirmed there was no mistake.
For fuck’s sake, why would her car be parked this far away from her apartment? Gunning his engine, he tore off down the block.
His heart finally stopped trying to claw its way out of his chest when he idled in front of her house. There was no pile-up of cars, like the time he’d crashed here. It seemed a long time had passed, when it was only a little over a week ago. He cut the engine, lowering the kickstand, and removing his helmet.
Coming up to the door he knocked, yet could hear the water running through the open windows. What would she do if she saw him standing out on the porch, waiting for her? Jesus, he’d rather catch up with at her car instead of scaring the wits out of her. He wanted to reach out to her without overwhelming her.
This was rich. A complete reversal in his life, going from singularly self-absorbed to fretting like a mother hen. He totally got this trip that Haden was on, but he couldn’t jump into a situation uninvited. Not with a woman who’d only known him as a potential drinking buddy for her brother; a blacker pot she’d not find. Save he’d not delved into a fast life of non-stop partying, and that’s why he and Haden had not remained close. Drinking, gambling, and women had been a diversion. With Gillian entering his life, his diving into a bottle no longer appealed to him. Not in the least.
He couldn’t profess to be born again in a matter of a week. Could he? He lifted his helmet, shoving it back onto his head, and started the engine. If he could talk to her without her slamming a door in his face, he might have a chance to convince her to let him help her. She was due at her grandmother’s, so she’d be leaving soon. He rode back to where her car was parked.
* * *
He was coming undone in more ways than one. Diving into her body on top of her bed, he stopped pretending to be all the things people saw in him. Gillian’s ability to connect to him allowed him freedom, a sense of complete abandon. Hearing her moan his name as he jetted inside her after having fucked her in her bedroom increased his hunger to possess her. They’d parted, yet her scent stayed on him and deep within him.
Stephen had returned to the ranch, and was back on the line just as his brother rode up. “Nice of you to join us,” Matt drawled, pushing his hat back on his head, shifting in his saddle.
“This is the second time I’ve been here this morning, so don’t start in on me,” Stephen snapped.
“What problem called you off, then? Your rig had all the necessary supplies. What happened?”
“It’s personal.” Stephen pressed his lips together, lifting the jackhammer. “I’m here now, so we can converse, or I can get back to my work.”
Matt swung his leg over the saddle and walked over to where Stephen stood. “I’ve never known you to have a personal problem since college.”
“Well, I’ve got one now.”
“Hold on. Personal, as in female?”
Stephen nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. He gazed up at the sky, following the few white dots of clouds, and clenched his jaw. “Yeah. Imagine that.”
“Brother, you were there when my life exploded. What can I do to help? Does this have to do with the fact that you’re now the owner of a puppy?”
“You’ve been chatting with your wife?”
“No. Carolina would never divulge anything you all tell her. But talk is cheap, and Cory isn’t so tight-lipped. So, then, spill it, Stephen, or I’ll be forced to bring in reinforcement troops.”
The thought of Miss Louisa made him crack a grin. She was the only person who would understand. “This is one of the moments I wish Miss Louisa was around to talk to.”
“She’ll be back soon enough. And there are telephones in Louisiana.”
“Right. Like I’m going to bother her. No. This isn’t cellphone-level conversation.”
“Talk to me. I’m right here.”
Stephen stared at his brother. Christ, if anyone would understand, it would be Matt. After falling head over heels for a woman he barely knew, this wouldn’t seem as troublesome as what his older brother had gone through. “She’s not much older than Cory. Heck, they’re friends.”
“And what? You’re dating a younger woman. I don’t think anyone is going to think that borders on crazy. And, considering your previous life-style, mundane comes to mind.”
“Really. Riddle me this: Gillian Sinclair.”
Matt returned his brother’s gaze, slack-jawed. “Haden’s baby sister?”
“Fuck, Matt. If age isn’t a problem, why refer to Gillian as a baby? She’s well past diapers.” The image of Gillian wearing a se
xy thong jolted his spine. He coughed. “Well, past them, anyway.”
“You’re right. Gillian’s not a child. So you guys are seeing one another. What’s eating at you, then?”
“Jesus Louise. This is more than dating. Much more. Tonight, I’m going to find out if Gillian would be willing…”
His brother asked quickly, “What?”
“If she wants to see only me.”
“A girlfriend. You know that goes both ways.”
“Really. You mean I can’t sleep around like a jackass and break her heart? No, I think I realize I’m asking her to do what I fully intend to do. Commit.”
Matt raised his palms. “Hell, you know I didn’t mean anything. I’m out of line. Gillian’s a nice girl. Hard-working, and Cory likes her. Talks about her to Carolina. Says she’s got something big coming up. Funny, how two people in one family might actually put Annona on the map. Some families are jammed with star quality.”
Stephen studied Matt, unwilling to divulge what he knew about Haden’s “star quality” drug problems. But what in tarnation was his brother talking about regarding Gillian? “Her dance studio is having a recital. We’re going to the fair tonight. I didn’t know it would draw that much attention.”
“Well, she’s caught someone’s eye. Hollywood is knocking on her door.”
Stephen’s head snapped up as though he’d been struck. “What do you mean?”
* * *
After listening to Matt explain what little he’d gleaned, all Stephen could do was shake his head. This was all too fucking perfect. He’d found the girl, and the girl had gotten a call from destiny.
Of all the possible women in Annona, he’d set his sights on Gillian Sinclair. If this had been any other woman, at the news that she might be leaving, temporarily or permanently, he’d have fucked her one last time and moved on with no hard feelings.
Gillian wasn’t just any woman. She’d gotten deeply under his skin, into his bloodstream and into his dreams. When he slept, it was she who appeared. His next breath was hers to keep, as well.
