On Lone Star Trail

by Amanda Cabot

  When Kate raised an eyebrow as if to signal her skepticism, Gillian decided it was time to change the subject. “Remember how I said you didn’t have to worry? I was talking about Mike. His family isn’t planning to compete with you. He said they have no interest in hotels.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do. I suppose I could be wrong, but Mike strikes me as an honest man. The reason he’s here is that he’s been working extra long hours since the beginning of the year. Apparently his mother decided he needed a vacation and practically forced him to come.”

  The way Kate smiled told Gillian she was both pleased and relieved. “That’s good news,” she said, “but I still think Mike views you as more than a convenient companion or a tour guide. The man looked positively smitten.”

  That guy looked at her the way someone who’d been stranded in the desert for a week would look at a cool glass of water. TJ gripped the oars and pulled for all he was worth. Maybe a good workout would help put the image out of his mind. Something had to. But as the oars plied the water, propelling him toward the small island on the other side of Bluebonnet Lake, the memories continued to roll.

  Gillian had laughed at anything Mike Tarkett said, giving him those smiles that threatened to outshine the sun, while Mike had seemed as besotted as a teenager with his first love. It had all combined to make last night’s supper feel endless. Oh, the food had been as delicious as ever, but TJ hadn’t enjoyed it. How could he, when Gillian hardly spoke to him? Instead, she’d seemed as infatuated with Mike Tarkett as the business tycoon was with her.

  TJ paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if he had any romantic interest in Gillian. He’d loved Deb. He still loved her, and he always would. And because he did, there was no room for another woman in his life or his heart.

  TJ knew that. That was why he’d been surprised by how painful it had been to see Gillian and Mike together. He didn’t understand it. He’d seen couples in love since Deb’s death, and it had never bothered him, but for some reason, this was different.

  If only his bike were fixed and he could leave! But Eric had delivered the bad news this morning. It would be another week before the parts arrived. That meant TJ had at least six more days with nothing to do other than watch Gillian and Mike Tarkett. The teenagers provided a welcome break in the evenings, but he needed something to do during the days.

  He resumed the rhythmic rowing, focusing on the sound of the oars sliding through the water. When he’d first heard that the island was called Paintbrush, he’d pictured an artist with a palette and brush, but he now realized that the name came from the Indian paintbrush flowers that carpeted one side of the island. The island was beautiful and peaceful. His thoughts were not.

  In the past TJ would have prayed for guidance, but he knew there was no point in doing that now. The only thing he could do was rely on himself and hope that all this rowing would leave him so tired and sore that he wouldn’t notice the pain in his heart.

  An hour later TJ returned to the dock, his shoulders and arms aching more than he’d thought possible but his head clearer than it had been in weeks. As he’d circled the small island and admired its beauty, he’d felt an unexpected peace settle over him.

  He couldn’t explain it any more than he could explain why the sight of Gillian and Mike together bothered him, but he wasn’t arguing with the result. The turmoil deep inside him had subsided, and by the time he approached the dock, TJ had realized there were worse things than being stuck at Rainbow’s End.

  He didn’t need Gillian’s company to make the days enjoyable. He could do what Greg had advised: row a bit, run a bit, relax a bit. And in the evenings, he’d have the teenagers with their unbridled curiosity and raucous laughter to keep him company.

  He was tying the boat to the dock when he heard footsteps.

  “TJ, you’re just the man I wanted to see,” Greg announced as he stepped onto the dock. Dressed in the Rainbow’s End uniform of khaki pants and a navy polo with the resort’s logo, Greg was the epitome of casual living, though his expression was anything but casual. “An opportunity came up today.” He settled onto one of the benches that lined the edge of the dock and nodded to the spot beside him, waiting until TJ was seated before he continued. “I’m not sure you’ll be interested, but I told Jake Thomas I’d ask.”

  Though Greg kept his voice even, the glint in his eyes told TJ he was hoping TJ would avail himself of the opportunity, whatever it was. If TJ were lucky, this mysterious opportunity would provide a way for him to pass the time until his bike was repaired. There was only one way to know.

  “Who’s Jake Thomas, and what’s the opportunity?”

  Leaning back on his arms and feigning a nonchalant posture, Greg stared into the distance. “He’s the school principal. The opportunity is to teach history for the rest of the school year.” His posture might be relaxed, but Greg’s speech was not. He spoke quickly, giving TJ no chance to interrupt. “The current history teacher, Mrs. Loring, had a massive stroke yesterday. She’s still alive, but the doctor says she’ll never teach again.”

  When TJ murmured his sympathy, Greg nodded. “Even though she was close to retirement, it’s still a blow to everyone. Jake filled in today, but he can’t keep doing that, and none of his regular subs want a full-time assignment.” Greg turned, fixing his gaze on TJ. “Jake needs a permanent substitute for the rest of the term. When he remembered my saying that you used to teach history, he phoned to see if you’d be interested.”

  Was he interested? It had been less than two hours since TJ had wondered what he could do to keep painful thoughts at bay and how he would fill the days until his bike was repaired. Now this opportunity presented itself. A couple years ago, TJ might have called this the answer to prayer. Now he called it a coincidence.

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. Though there was something surprisingly appealing about the idea of teaching the kids he saw each night at Firefly Valley, TJ wasn’t convinced he should agree. “I had planned to go to Big Bend as soon as Eric finished the bike repairs.”

  It was the last item on Deb’s bucket list, the last thing TJ wanted to accomplish before . . .

  That was the problem: he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. All he knew was that it wasn’t returning to teaching, because teaching was one thing he and Deb had done together.

  He’d spent a year trying to outrun his memories, failing more often than he succeeded. He couldn’t count the times he’d seen something he wanted to share with Deb and had started to say, “Honey, look at that,” only to realize she wasn’t there, that no matter what he did, she wouldn’t hear him.

  Being on the bike rather than in an RV had helped, but returning to a classroom would be more difficult. It would be like ripping the scab off a barely healed wound. TJ wasn’t ready to do that.

  Greg nodded slowly, as if he’d expected TJ’s response. “I won’t pressure you,” he assured him. “You need to do what feels right to you, but I can’t help pointing out that the assignment is for less than two months. Big Bend will be there when school ends.”

  “Two months is longer than I’ve stayed anywhere in a while.” TJ had deliberately chosen the itinerant life, not wanting to stop anywhere long enough to put down roots. He doubted he’d become rooted here in two months, but it could happen. And yet, how bad would that be? It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He’d uprooted himself once. He could do it again.

  TJ stared at the lake, picturing the teenagers he saw each evening. From what he could tell, few considered schooling more than a trial they were forced to endure. That was a shame.

  It wouldn’t be easy to walk into a school again, but maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he feared. After all, there were no memories of Deb here. No doubt about it: it would be a challenge, but maybe that was what he needed. And maybe, just maybe, he could help some of the kids
realize just how important it was to understand history.

  Greg waited until TJ looked at him again before he spoke. “If you’re worried about overstaying your welcome here, that won’t happen.” He turned and gestured toward the cabins. “Moses is yours for as long as you want it. If you’ll feel better paying for room and board once you’re earning a salary, that’s fine, but it’s not necessary. The simple fact is, you’d be doing the town a favor if you agree to stay and teach.” Greg leaned forward, his expression intense. “Dupree High’s kids need you,” he said firmly. “Only you can decide whether you need them.”

  TJ shifted his gaze to his boots. That was easier than letting Greg see his indecision. Stay and teach or leave and finish the bucket list? The decision ought to be simple, and yet it wasn’t. TJ started to refuse, then stopped, remembering how peace had filled his heart as he’d returned to the dock. Even as he’d been waging his internal debate, the peace had remained.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  “I’ll do it.”

  14

  Could I interest you in a trip into Dupree?”

  Gillian swiveled on the stool. When she’d spotted the piano in the main lodge her first day at Rainbow’s End, she had told herself she would not touch it, but this afternoon she hadn’t been able to resist seeing if anything had changed.

  It hadn’t. Though she was able to perform the basic warm-up scales and five-finger exercises that had been the beginning of her routine for years, she could not ignore the way her right hand hesitated. A casual listener might not notice the flaws, but to Gillian they were as distressing as wrong notes.

  She smiled at Mike, grateful for the interruption. “I’ll be glad to go, but I’m curious. What’s the attraction in Dupree? Compared to Blytheville, it’s a very, very small town.”

  Mike gave her one of his wrinkled nose smiles. “It may be small, but it has the best quilt shop in the area. I’m hoping to find something for my mother.” Mike’s grin widened. “I could tell you I wanted a woman’s opinion, and I wouldn’t be lying, but the truth is, I was looking for an excuse to spend more time with you. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  It did. “Give me five minutes to get ready.”

  When she emerged from her cabin, Gillian found Mike waiting in one of the most beautiful cars she’d ever seen. Long, low, and red, it practically shrieked power.

  “What is it?” she asked as she slid into the leather seat that left her feeling pampered.

  “A Ferrari.”

  Dad would approve. He was of the opinion that there was nothing wrong with flaunting wealth.

  “Do you race?”

  Mike shook his head. “Believe it or not, I rarely speed. I just like the way the car handles. It’s a nice change from the trucks and ATVs I drive on the ranch.”

  “You mean you’re a cowboy?” Gillian hadn’t expected that.

  “On occasion. My dad insisted that I learn every aspect of our businesses. I even had a stint waiting tables at Strawberry Chantilly. When it was clear I wasn’t suited for carrying trays with carefully arranged food, I spent a month herding cattle.”

  Gillian chuckled, trying to picture Mike as a waiter.

  “Do you have anything special in mind for your mother?” she asked as Mike parked in front of Hill Country Pieces.

  Mike shrugged. “Not a clue. That’s where you come in. I figured you could pick out something your mom would like.”

  This was not the time to explain that Gillian had never shopped for gifts for her mother. “I’m sure we’ll find something.” The quilts Lauren Ahrens, now Lauren Carroll, had made for Rainbow’s End were exquisite. Gillian had no doubt they’d find a suitable gift for Mrs. Tarkett.

  What they found were three women whose mouths dropped open as Gillian and Mike entered the quilt shop.

  “Gillian Hodge,” one said, recovering her composure at the same time that one of her companions said, “And Mike Tarkett.”

  The pretty brunette behind the counter appeared to be having trouble controlling her mirth. She stepped out and extended her hand in greeting. “Welcome to HCP. I’m Lauren.” With a look that just missed being a wink, she gestured toward the three women. “Let me introduce you to Amelia, Debra, and Edie.”

  Though Gillian kept a polite smile fixed on her face, inwardly she was cringing. She’d just met the infamous Matchers.

  “Is something wrong?” Though the day had been warmer than normal and the sun had just set, there was an unexpected chill in the air. Or perhaps it was only Gillian’s imagination, triggered by the man at her side. TJ had seemed unusually quiet at supper. Several times she’d caught him staring into the distance, a pensive expression on his face, and he’d barely joined in the conversation. As they left Rainbow’s End, though Gillian had been tempted to ask him if there was anything she could do to help, the almost forbidding set of his lips had held her back, and once they’d reached the RV town, there had been no opportunity for a private moment.

  As soon as Gillian had arrived, Brianna had led her to her trailer, where the other girls had gathered for tonight’s fashion lesson.

  Gillian still had trouble believing she’d been able to develop a camaraderie with the girls so quickly, but she wasn’t complaining. This was what Kate had hoped would happen, and the fact that it had reduced Kate’s stress was good.

  After she’d greeted the girls and listened to today’s news, which centered on speculation over who would replace one of the teachers, Gillian pulled an assortment of scarves from her bag. When Brianna had read that French women changed the look of an outfit simply by the way they tied a scarf, the girls had been intrigued and had asked for Gillian’s assistance in finding the most flattering way to wear a scarf.

  They giggled as they experimented with the techniques Gillian demonstrated, seemingly impressed by her knowledge, never guessing she’d gleaned that knowledge from the internet rather than a fashion stylist. The source didn’t matter. What mattered was that Gillian was helping them.

  If only she could help TJ. But, unlike Mike, who seemed to have a sunny disposition, TJ was a brooder, a modern-day Heathcliff or Mr. Rochester with dark secrets. No matter how she wished there were something she could say or do, Gillian knew she had little hope of breaking through the barriers he’d built around himself.

  By the time she and the girls joined the boys around the campfire, TJ seemed to be back to normal, and for the space of half an hour she was optimistic that whatever had bothered him was simply a passing mood. Now she wasn’t so sure, for he appeared to be brooding again as they returned to Rainbow’s End. That was why she’d posed the question.

  Though Gillian wasn’t certain he would respond, TJ slowed his pace and turned to meet her gaze. “I don’t know whether it’s wrong or not,” he admitted, his eyes clearly troubled, “but I’m afraid I made a mistake.”

  Gillian could not imagine what that might be. As far as she knew, he hadn’t left Rainbow’s End today. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Once again TJ hesitated, but when they’d crossed the road and were approaching the gates of Rainbow’s End, he stopped, leaning against the wrought-iron fence. “Yeah, I guess I do want to talk.” He took a breath and exhaled before he began his explanation. “I agreed to teach for the rest of the school year.”

  “Here in Dupree?”

  When he nodded, Gillian realized TJ must be the substitute teacher who’d triggered so much speculation among the girls. They’d be excited, and she . . . well, she was excited too. It might be silly to be so happy, but Gillian couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt in knowing TJ would be here as long as she was. He no longer gave her pep talks when they walked to Firefly Valley, telling her she’d do a good job with the girls, but just having him at her side boosted her confidence.

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I don’t know. I’m not convinced it’ll be good for these kids.” He turned and gestured back toward Firefly Valley.

  “Why not? They already know you’re a great teacher.” The girls couldn’t stop talking about the stories he told, and though the boys feigned nonchalance, Gillian had seen the way they listened to TJ. They were as fascinated by his adventures as she was.

  “They don’t know me as a teacher, and that’s the problem. I’m a mentor to them. A grown-up friend. It’ll be different if they have to sit in my classroom.”

  Though she didn’t doubt that TJ was concerned, Gillian still didn’t understand why. “I don’t see a problem. If anything, the Firefly Valley kids will have an advantage over the other students, because you already know them.”

  “And they know me as TJ, not Mr. Benjamin.”

  The distinction sounded subtle, but Gillian suspected it was not. Maintaining discipline in a classroom was difficult enough without adding inappropriate familiarity to the equation. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to deal with that. Your worries tell me you’re a really good teacher. You’re not thinking about yourself, only your students.”

  Gillian sighed, remembering her school days. She’d been thankful Sally had been able to convince her father of the benefits of public schools, the greatest of which was that she and Kate would be together, but there had been trade-offs. Though some of Gillian’s teachers had been stellar, there had been others who’d exerted only the minimum effort in the classroom, then wondered why no one was enthusiastic about the subject.

  “I wish all my teachers had been like you.” Gillian laid a hand on TJ’s arm, willing him to believe her. “The Dupree kids are lucky to have you.”

  And TJ was lucky to have found something meaningful to do.

  Gillian had slept later than normal and had to rush to reach the dining room before the breakfast buffet was cleared away. After helping herself to a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar, she added a piece of toast to her plate, then took a seat at her assigned table. When she’d convinced the two guests who volunteered to stay if she wanted company that she didn’t mind being alone, Gillian spread peach jam on the toast and took a bite. The jam and homemade bread were delicious, and yet the flavors that normally tantalized her taste buds did nothing for her today.