by Amanda Cabot
“I hope so.”
10
So, what do you think, Gillian?”
What Gillian thought was that the RV needed a good cleaning. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere. The counters were lined with dishes bearing the caked-on remains of at least a week’s meals. Crumpled movie magazines littered every other horizontal surface. No doubt about it: Brianna’s home was well on its way to becoming a secondary landfill.
“Did I do it right?” the girl asked, staring into the bathroom mirror. She wanted Gillian’s opinion of her makeup, not the cleanliness or lack thereof of her temporary home.
“It’s very nice.” Gillian leaned closer. After her discussion of makeup techniques, Gillian had offered to help the girls shop for cosmetics. Brianna and two of her friends had accepted the offer, but only Brianna had invited Gillian to her home to preview the results before the nightly campfire.
“The taupe shadow is just what you needed. It highlights your eyes.” Not to mention that it was more flattering than the bright purple Brianna had previously caked onto her eyelids.
“You really like it?”
“Yes.”
Brianna tipped her head from one side to the other, considering her reflection. “My mom doesn’t like it. If she had her way, I wouldn’t wear any makeup at all. She doesn’t want boys to look at me. Especially not Todd.” Brianna turned to face Gillian. “You know what, Gillian? I think Todd would like me even if I didn’t wear makeup.”
That was one discussion Gillian knew better than to encourage, and so she said only, “He seems like a very nice boy.”
“He is.” Brianna nodded vigorously, setting her hair to bouncing on her shoulders. “Some kids call him a nerd, but he’s a great guy.”
She looked at Gillian for a moment, her indecision obvious. Though Gillian didn’t claim to be an expert on teenagers, she sensed that Brianna wanted to tell her something important but was debating whether Gillian could be trusted. After a few seconds, she said, “We’re going to get married as soon as we’re old enough. Then we won’t have to live here.”
Not wanting to get involved in such a sensitive subject, Gillian merely smiled and murmured, “You’ll be a beautiful bride . . . someday.” She glanced at her watch, grateful for an excuse to end this conversation. It was time to join the group around the campfire.
But Brianna wasn’t giving up so easily. She blocked the door. Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at Gillian. “I don’t understand you. You’re still young. You’re pretty. How come you’re not married?”
Gillian was tempted to laugh. It seemed that the trio of middle-aged women Kate had called the Matchers had an apprentice. Though she suspected they would have phrased the question a bit more diplomatically, the meaning was the same: it was time for Gillian to marry. Even her father agreed.
“I haven’t met the right man.” Gillian gave Brianna the same answer she’d given her father, but tonight was different. As she pronounced the words, TJ’s image floated through her mind. How strange.
The kids were in an odd mood tonight. TJ hadn’t been kidding when he told Gillian that he still felt as if he didn’t have a clue about teenagers. Oh, he’d read dozens of books and taken his share of psychology classes, but he wasn’t the intuitive teacher Deb had been. She had had the empathy and the understanding that turned an ordinary teacher into a special one. TJ had never been more than average, and if he were being honest, that had bothered him. It certainly bothered him tonight.
Tonight the boys wanted to talk about wilderness survival and were disappointed to learn that a day hike was as far as he’d ventured into the back country. Fortunately, the lure of flames and marshmallows had kept them by the campfire, but TJ knew he’d have to come up with something different for tomorrow. As it was, the boys were clustered around the fire, waiting for the girls’ arrival before they started roasting marshmallows.
And there they were. As Gillian emerged from one of the RVs with Brianna, the others joined them, forming a giggling group of girls. With all his heart, TJ hoped Gillian wouldn’t leave Rainbow’s End before he did. It was bad enough keeping the boys entertained. Half a dozen girls were beyond his skill.
“So, was she your girlfriend before, or did you just meet her?”
The boy’s question startled him. He hadn’t realized that Todd had remained at his side. Tonight the kid was one of the silent ones. Fortunately, he was only quiet, not sullen.
TJ spun around and faced him. “What do you mean?”
“Gillian.” Todd’s tone left no doubt that the answer should have been apparent. “She’s your girlfriend, right?”
“Wrong.” TJ wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. Not now, and probably not ever.
“What’s wrong?” Gillian asked as Kate handed her a cup of coffee before stirring sugar into her own mug of decaf. Gillian was the one who ought to look stressed after the mostly sleepless night she’d just spent, but it was Kate who seemed on edge. The silver lining to that was that her friend wouldn’t ask why Gillian had circles under her eyes. And that was fortunate, because she didn’t have an answer. Admittedly, she’d been disturbed by her conversation with Brianna and by how distant TJ seemed when they’d walked back to Rainbow’s End, but that shouldn’t have been enough to keep her from sleeping.
Kate laid the spoon on the table and looked up at Gillian. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was obvious. I’m a little nervous about one of the reservations that just came in.”
That didn’t sound like Kate. In all the years Gillian had known her, she hadn’t been one to worry. Kate had always been a decisive, take-charge person. “Is it a big group? Do you need me to move out?”
Kate’s reaction was instantaneous. “No, never! Isaiah’s yours for as long as you want the cabin. The reservation I’m worried about is for one person.”
Perhaps the shifting hormones of pregnancy were the reason for Kate’s concern. “Then what’s the problem? I know you’re not full.”
Kate let out a small sigh. “It’s who that one person is that worries me. The name Mike Tarkett probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but the Tarkett family is one of the most influential in the Hill Country. They practically own the town of Blytheville. And whether it’s ranching, oil, gas, or wind energy, you’ll find a Tarkett involved. I’ve even heard that they’re planning to get into politics on the state level with a possible eye on Washington.”
If the Tarketts had a résumé like that, Gillian would have thought Kate would be pleased to have a member of the family visit Rainbow’s End. If Mike Tarkett was happy here—and Gillian couldn’t imagine that he would not be—he might recommend the resort to others. That kind of word-of-mouth advertising was something even Greg’s money couldn’t buy.
“I still don’t understand the problem. You’ve had powerful people here before, not to mention that you’re married to one.”
Kate’s small wince and the way she rubbed her belly told Gillian the baby was extra active this morning, perhaps in response to Kate’s mood.
“It’s not Mike himself that worries me. The problem is, I can’t figure out why he wants to stay here. We’re only half an hour away from his family home, and from everything I’ve heard, that home is a mansion on a huge estate.”
“Maybe he’s looking for a change of pace.” That was part of what had brought Gillian here, that and the need to reevaluate her life.
Kate appeared dubious. “The only reason I can imagine is that Mike wants to buy a resort and is checking us out. The hospitality industry is just about the only thing the Tarkett clan doesn’t have.”
“But Rainbow’s End isn’t for sale.” Kate had made it clear that she and Greg had no intention of leaving, although they’d discussed the possibility of building a home in Firefly Valley once the RVs were gone so they’d have more privacy and space when their baby became a toddler.
“T
hat’s true,” Kate agreed, “but what if they build something similar and try to put us out of business?”
“They can’t do that, can they?” Greg had very deep pockets, which was part of the reason Rainbow’s End had a philanthropic arm, providing low or no-cost vacations for people who needed them.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I can’t help worrying.”
Though Gillian suspected Kate was suffering from a major case of overreaction, there was no reason to say that. Instead she leaned forward and placed her hand on Kate’s. “What can I do?”
“Stay another week.” The answer came so quickly that Gillian knew it wasn’t a casual request. “I need moral support while Mike Tarkett is here.”
“Sure.” As the answer slipped out, Gillian realized how right it felt. The vague malaise that had plagued her off and on all week had disappeared, replaced by a feeling of peace. The distant future might not be clear, but staying at Rainbow’s End for the immediate future was the right decision. Gillian knew that as surely as she knew she’d do anything for her friend.
“In fact,” she said slowly as she helped herself to a cinnamon roll, “if you’re sure you don’t need to rent out the cabin, I think I’ll stay here until my godchild arrives.”
“Really?” Kate’s eyes shone with excitement.
“Really.”
Kate leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Gillian. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the best? Well, you are.”
11
He ought to be glad, TJ told himself as he squirted shaving cream onto his fingertips. It was Sunday, his second day with no responsibilities. Greg had given him a reprieve from spending weekend evenings in Firefly Valley, claiming that most parents were home then and would spend time with their kids. That left TJ free to do whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, what he wanted to do today was to get on his motorcycle and clear his head with a fast and furious ride somewhere, anywhere, but that was impossible. Though Eric kept trying, he’d been unable to locate a crankshaft. It seemed there were disadvantages to owning a highly customized bike.
Like it or not, TJ was stuck at Rainbow’s End. He picked up his razor and began to shave. The truth was, it wasn’t a bad place. The food was excellent, and the company was good. He shook his head slightly. More than good, if he were being honest. Gillian Hodge was intriguing, perhaps because she was so different from Deb.
He wielded the razor carefully, not wanting to nick his skin just because his thoughts had turned turbulent. Deb had been loveable, lively, and occasionally mischievous, but until the final months when cancer wracked her body, she had not been sad. Even then, her sorrow had been for TJ and the fact that she was leaving him alone.
Though Gillian tried to hide it, there was a sadness deep inside her. It would be easy to blame it on the loss of her career. TJ didn’t doubt that that weighed heavily on her, but his instincts, honed by years of counseling people in RV campgrounds from Acadia to Zion, told him something else was involved. If he had to guess, he would say it was her family.
Though she hadn’t mentioned it again, he had to believe that never having known her mother would have left a void inside her. TJ had grieved when his parents had died, and he was still grieving the loss of Deb, but he had the memories of years with them. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like growing up without a mother.
Since he’d never heard Gillian mention siblings, he assumed she was an only child like him. That must have made her childhood lonely. TJ had hated that friends went home when playtime ended, but he’d had his parents—especially his mother—to help fill the empty hours.
Family. It was so important, and yet as TJ knew from experience, it was often difficult to talk about a family when it was less than perfect. Look at him. Though there had been opportunities, TJ had never once said “my wife.” Instead, he’d let everyone believe he was a single man. That wasn’t totally dishonest—he was single again—but it was splitting hairs on the honesty issue. The old TJ wouldn’t have done that, but the old TJ was gone.
Fifteen minutes later, his hair almost dry after his shower, he entered the dining room. Though he’d expected it to be close to empty, as it normally was at this time, three tables were already filled. He glanced at his assigned table, smiling when Gillian waved at him.
She looked prettier than ever this morning, dressed in some kind of soft green blouse that highlighted her eyes, her hair left loose to fall in waves below her shoulders. Though she hadn’t pulled her hair into the tight bun since the first day, she normally wore it in a ponytail or secured in one of those big clips. This was the first time TJ had seen it down. It suited her, or so he thought, but what did he know about women’s hair?
His step a little lighter than it had been a minute earlier, TJ made his way through the buffet line in record time.
“I hoped you’d come,” Gillian said as he pulled out the only empty chair at the table, one that just so happened to be next to her. “That’s why I saved you this seat.”
“Thanks.” TJ laid the plate piled with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage on the table. “Why’s everyone here so early?” The other mornings, he and Gillian had been the only ones at this table. Although there was only one seating for supper, breakfast was less structured. The food was set out buffet style, with guests free to come anytime between 7:00 and 8:30.
Gillian waited until TJ picked up his fork before she replied. “Kate says it happens every Sunday and that there are two reasons. Some people are checking out and want to get an early start. Others are going to church.”
“Which one are you?” Gillian had said she was only going to be here a week or two. If she were staying for a full week, she’d leave tomorrow, but TJ knew that some people preferred to travel on the weekend.
“The latter.” She spread jam on a piece of toast as she added, “I guess I didn’t tell you that I’ve decided to stay until Kate’s baby is born.”
The sausage he’d been chewing suddenly seemed even more delicious than it had a few seconds earlier. Perhaps it was foolish to care, but TJ couldn’t ignore the relief coursing through him at the knowledge that Gillian wasn’t leaving today. Waiting for the bike repairs would be decidedly easier with her here. And when the bike was ready, he’d convince the woman with hair the color of a desert sunrise to go for a ride.
He wouldn’t tell her that now. Instead, he said, “I imagine Kate’s happy about that.”
Gillian nodded. “I am too. I hadn’t expected it, but I’m enjoying the slower pace.”
TJ could only guess what her life had been like before the accident, but he suspected there’d been little time for relaxation. “Do you miss performing?”
He could kick himself for asking such a stupid question. Of course she did. Even though teaching had not been his life calling, there were times when he missed the routine, the challenges, and—yes—the kids. He’d chosen to walk away from his job. Gillian had had no choice. Only an insensitive clod would remind her of all that she’d lost.
To TJ’s surprise, Gillian did not appear angered by his question. She reached for the coffeepot and refilled her cup, then turned to look directly at him. “I’d be lying if I said no. Music has been the most important part of my life for just about my whole life. There were times when I felt as if it was consuming all my energy, but I didn’t mind, because I loved what I was doing.” Her hand tightened on the cup. “I always knew there would be a time when it would end, but I hadn’t expected it to be so soon.”
Taking a sip of coffee to hide the tightening of his lips, TJ realized that he could have said the same thing, substituting “Deb” for “music.” Perhaps he’d been wrong about Gillian. At first he’d thought they had little in common because they’d come from such different worlds, but deep inside they had the same pain, the same emptiness. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but can you play at all?” When he’d talked to Gi
llian about teaching, TJ had assumed that she could. Though narrow scars crisscrossed her right hand, she appeared to have no trouble using it. But perhaps her being left-handed kept him from recognizing the extent of the damage. Since it was her non-dominant hand that had been injured, TJ hadn’t had many opportunities to watch her using it.
“I can play,” she admitted. “Just not well enough for a concert. My fingers don’t have the same level of flexibility they did before. I can’t stretch as far.”
She held up both hands, extending the fingers as far as she could. Even TJ could see the difference between the two hands. And though he was no musician, he knew that the right hand was critical for a pianist. What a shame. What a terrible shame. Though he wanted to ask what had caused the accident, something in Gillian’s expression stopped him. He’d already probed too deeply. What he needed to do was lighten the mood.
“I can’t say that I was ever a fan of classical music, but I enjoyed your Carnegie Hall album.”
Those green eyes that reminded him of spring grass widened. “You listened to it?”
TJ nodded. “I was in the gift shop yesterday.” Pure boredom had led him there. “That’s what they were playing. I’m no expert, but I can tell you that the music touched me in ways I hadn’t expected.” To his surprise, he’d found his heart pounding with anxiety, then soaring with joy as he listened to Gillian’s rendition of what the clerk told him was a Beethoven concerto.
TJ had seen Gillian smile, but never before had he seen such a radiant smile. It appeared he’d done something right. Finally.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You have no idea how much that means to me. When I performed, it was always with the hope of touching someone’s heart. I’m so glad that I did.”
