by Amanda Cabot
Mike could give her everything she wanted: a close-knit family, a comfortable lifestyle, a bright future. Gillian deserved a man like that, not one with half a heart and an uncertain future. He paused, struck by the realization that he’d used the same word he’d criticized Mike for using: deserve. He had no right to make assumptions about what Gillian wanted.
“Is something wrong?” she asked when TJ entered the dining room and took the seat next to her. It must be his imagination that she looked prettier than usual tonight. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Though the severe style didn’t suit some women, it highlighted Gillian’s features and drew attention to those deep green eyes. Right now those eyes betrayed concern. Somehow she’d sensed TJ’s troubled state.
“Nothing more than usual,” he lied. “The kids were antsy today. They’re definitely ready for school to end. What about you?”
Though he’d expected a lighthearted recounting of the people who’d come into the bookstore this morning, Gillian’s expression was serious. “I saw Brianna this afternoon. She was with Pete again. She told me she and Todd broke up. That’s why we haven’t seen them at night.”
TJ had suspected that, rather than have to explain how he’d been rejected, Todd had decided to avoid the nightly gatherings, but he hadn’t expected Pete to resume his friendship—or whatever it was—with Brianna.
“Pete? I told him to back off.”
“Well, he didn’t, and Brianna’s thrilled.” Gillian didn’t sound any happier about it than TJ was. “She’s acting like a girl in love, or at least in infatuation.”
TJ didn’t want to think about love, because thoughts of love made him wonder just what it was Gillian felt for Mike. That was one question he didn’t want answered. But he needed to do whatever he could to reassure Gillian and protect Brianna.
“I guess it’s time for another talk with Pete.”
“I hope he listens this time.” Gillian sounded as dubious as TJ felt.
As they ate, her mood seemed to improve. She engaged the others at the table in conversation for a few minutes before turning back to TJ. “Tell me what you have planned for Firefly Valley tonight.”
When he’d finished his explanation, Gillian nodded. “That sounds good. I think I can get the girls interested. I wanted to tell you, though, that I won’t be able to help on Friday.”
“A hot date?” Though he forced a light tone, TJ’s gut wrenched at the thought of her with Mike.
“If you call dinner in Austin and a night at the symphony a hot date, then I guess it is.” Her tone of voice gave him no clue whether she was looking forward to the evening.
TJ nodded. A five-course dinner prepared by a celebrity chef and a concert, probably enjoyed from box seats, might be what Gillian wanted. Not hot dogs and soda at a rodeo.
“Have fun,” he said, wishing he meant it.
Kate poured herself another cup of herbal tea and lowered herself to the chair across from Gillian, declaring that sitting down was starting to feel like trying to turn the Titanic.
“Sally told me she’s decided you’re meant to marry a minister,” she said with a smile. “Where did she come up with that idea?”
“You’re asking me? She’s your grandmother.” Gillian took a bite of pastry, chewing carefully before she added, “I have no idea what’s behind that unless Sally’s been spending too much time in the sun. Maybe the gray matter is getting fried.”
“I suspect she just wants you to move to Texas.”
“And do what? That’s the problem I’m having. I’m not sure what I want to do next.” Or what she was meant to do. Though she’d prayed for direction each day, she had heard no answers. She hated to disappoint Stacy, because she had said she wanted to be involved, but Gillian wasn’t convinced creating a senior center in Blytheville was the right move for her. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t been her idea. Perhaps it was because the need didn’t seem as great. Perhaps it was only because she’d already done it and wanted a new challenge. All Gillian knew for certain was that the prospect of organizing another senior center wasn’t the open window she’d been searching for.
“You could always get married, settle down, and have two point five children.” Kate rubbed her baby bump as she pronounced the final words.
“Now you sound like the Matchers. Amelia made a special trip to the bookstore today to offer her services.”
“What did you do?”
Gillian raised both hands in the classic gesture of hopelessness. “What could I do? I thanked her nicely and told her I had no intention of marrying.”
“And she was horrified.”
“You could say that. I was afraid she might go into cardiac arrest, so I told her I was only kidding. But seriously, Kate, marriage isn’t the answer to every problem.” Even though Brianna thought it was.
Kate took another sip of tea. “I didn’t say it was. I was simply pointing out the possibilities. Not every woman has two men interested in her.”
“Two?”
“Sure. Mike and TJ.”
Though the thought of TJ considering her more than a friend brought a flush of color to Gillian’s cheeks, she shook her head. “You must have been spending as much time in the sun as Sally if you think TJ is interested in marriage. He may be forty years younger, but this is one area he’s just like my father. He believes love is a once-in-a-lifetime event.”
Kate gave Gillian one of those “trust me, I know what I’m saying” looks. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you. I know how much you hate it, but you’d better get ready for me to say ‘I told you so.’”
“You again.” Pete Darlington practically snarled. “What do you want?”
Though he hated confrontations, TJ had once again foregone his lunch break to come to the construction site. Like Gillian, he was concerned about the man’s continued pursuit of Brianna, knowing nothing good could come from it.
“Dupree’s a small town,” he said as he took another step toward Pete. There was no point in shouting. “Folks look out for each other. A bunch of us are concerned about Brianna.”
“Why? Just because she and I took a little ride in the country? There’s no law against that.”
“True. But she’s still a kid, so there are laws against other things.”
Pete smirked. “Trust me, man, I’m not looking to spend time in prison. I know she’s young. You told me, and so did she.”
“Did she tell you exactly how underage she is?”
“Yep. And nothing’s gonna happen until that magic birthday. Now, unless you’re planning to let me ride that bike, get out of here.”
33
Gillian was glad she’d gone shopping in San Antonio. She’d wanted a new dress for tonight, and judging from the expression in Mike’s eyes, she’d chosen well. Admittedly, she’d been skeptical when the clerk had pulled what had looked like a shapeless piece of green silk off the rack, but when she’d tried it on, the designer’s genius was apparent.
The silk flowed, hinting at Gillian’s curves, ending in a flirty hem that grazed the top of her knees. What made the gown special was the asymmetrical bodice. While her right shoulder was covered with a cap sleeve, there was no matching sleeve on the other side. Instead, the neckline extended into a bow over Gillian’s left shoulder. Simple and yet elegant, it was worth the hefty price tag.
Crinkles formed at the corner of Mike’s eyes as he grinned. “Politicians aren’t supposed to be speechless, but I don’t know what to say other than ‘wow.’”
“I wasn’t sure whether the restaurant had a dress code, but I saw some pictures of Austin symphony performances and realized that jeans and boots might be a tad casual.”
Mike shrugged as he opened the car door for her. “You might be surprised at what you’ll see tonight, but I assure you that you’re perfect.”
Though his words so
unded sincere, the compliment made Gillian uncomfortable. “The dress may be, but not me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You charmed my parents. That hasn’t happened before.”
That sounded as if Mike had had a parade of women at the ranch. Gillian kept a smile firmly fixed on her face. She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he was an eligible bachelor, and he’d admitted his parents were urging him to marry.
“You have a wonderful family,” she told Mike, meaning every word. The hours she’d spent with them had reminded her of her childhood and the time she’d spent with Kate and her grandparents. When her father had traveled, he’d given Gillian the choice of staying at home with the nanny or moving into Kate’s home. That had been the classic no-brainer. The nanny had enjoyed the time off, and Gillian had relished being part of a normal family, one with both a mother and a father.
That Sally and her husband had actually been Kate’s grandparents hadn’t bothered Gillian. What she’d appreciated was that both Sally and Larry had been more demonstrative than her father, freely dispensing hugs. It had felt good to experience the same warmth at the Tarkett ranch.
“When your dad gets back from his cruise, I hope you’ll introduce me to him.”
Gillian felt her eyes widen in surprise, and she realized that although she’d enjoyed meeting Mike’s family, she wasn’t ready for him to meet her father or brother. Dad would welcome him—at least on the surface—but there was no way to predict George’s reaction. If he decided he didn’t like Mike’s political views, he might be brutally sarcastic. While Gillian did not doubt that Mike could defend himself, she hated the idea that he might be put on the spot.
“The cruise doesn’t end until mid-October, and by then I imagine you’ll be spending every minute you can campaigning.”
Mike raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t realized he was going to be gone so long.”
“It takes awhile to travel around the world, especially when you stop at every port of call. To tell you the truth, I’m still amazed that Dad’s doing it. He used to say a two-week vacation was the perfect length—long enough to relax but not so long that you got bored.”
“It’s been more than two weeks. Is he bored yet?”
Gillian shook her head. “Not that I can tell. His emails are full of pictures of the things he’s seeing. He doesn’t say a lot, but that’s my dad. He never was one for the written word.” She told herself that was the only reason he hadn’t responded to her email describing the successful launch of the senior center. “Still, I can tell he’s having a good time.”
And that made Gillian happy. If the cruise kept Dad as busy as it seemed, he’d have less time to worry about his daughter. At least he hadn’t bombarded her with suggestions of how to attract a husband. Other than the comment about the folly of surrounding herself with seniors, he’d been silent on the subject.
“Maybe you can convince him to come to the ranch for Thanksgiving,” Mike suggested. “The election will be over by then, and it would be the perfect time for our families to meet. Your brother’s welcome too.”
Whoa. Mike was moving too fast. Way too fast. “We’ll see,” Gillian said as noncommittally as she could. “I’m not sure where I’ll be then. I told Kate I’d stay until the baby’s born, but after that I’m not sure what I’ll do.”
Mike chuckled. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’ve made it my mission to convince you to stay here. But I can see you’re not comfortable with that idea yet, so let’s talk about the senior center. I’m still trying to imagine my grandmother doing martial arts.”
Gillian couldn’t help laughing as Mike took his hands from the steering wheel and feigned a karate chop. “Tai chi isn’t karate,” she said when she stopped laughing.
“Then tell me what it is.”
Grateful for the reprieve, Gillian did, with the result that the rest of the drive proved pleasant and relaxing, reminding her of how much she enjoyed Mike’s company.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Gillian discovered it was even more elegant than Strawberry Chantilly, its décor reminding her of a French chateau. The food was superb, the service impeccable, her conversation with Mike once more comfortable.
“So, what did you think?” she asked as they waited for the valet to bring the car.
Mike gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“About the restaurant. Did you get any ideas for Strawberry Chantilly?”
Puzzlement turned to chagrin. “Was I that obvious?”
“Only to me. There were times when I thought you were taking mental notes.” Though brief, she’d noticed occasions when Mike’s eyes had glazed and he’d appeared to be lost in thought.
“Guilty as charged. I’m sorry. That was rude.” Mike’s expression reminded her of a chastened schoolboy.
“There’s no need to apologize. I do the same thing when I hear someone else playing the piano.” Gillian smiled at Mike as he opened the car door for her. “It’s only natural. Call it an occupational hazard.”
He slid behind the wheel and was silent for a moment as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I should have realized that. It’s true I was curious about the restaurant and wanted to see how it compared to Strawberry Chantilly, but I hadn’t thought about the concert. Would you rather we not go? This was supposed to be a relaxing evening for you, not work.”
Gillian shook her head. “It’ll be fine.”
But it wasn’t. Though she tried to keep her expression serene, Gillian’s stomach knotted as the first notes sounded, and she found herself staring at her right hand rather than gazing at the orchestra or closing her eyes to let the music envelop her. Memories of all the times those same sounds had filled her with anticipation washed over her, reminding her of the joy of performing, of being part of an orchestra, of bringing music alive to a new audience.
She clenched her hand, trying to stop the memories from flowing. It wasn’t the first time she’d been a spectator. She’d sat in the audience before the accident, and each time she had enjoyed the performance. As Gillian had told Mike, work had mingled with pleasure. In the past she’d listened with a critical ear, but tonight was different. Tonight the music did not soothe her. Instead it served as a painful reminder that she would never again sit on a concert stage.
“They were good, weren’t they?” Mike asked when the final bow had been taken and the audience began to file out of the hall.
“Yes, they were excellent.” Gillian forced enthusiasm into her voice. She wouldn’t spoil Mike’s evening by telling him how she’d reacted to the orchestra. It wasn’t his fault. He’d offered her an escape route when he’d realized there might be a problem. Gillian was the one who’d refused to take it.
“The cellist was particularly fine,” she added.
As they made their way to the exit, Mike kept his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, nodding at acquaintances, greeting those who were close enough for casual conversation. Texas might be a big state, but at least in this part, Mike Tarkett was a familiar face.
To Gillian’s relief, no one seemed to recognize her. She had no desire for the limelight, especially tonight when her emotions were so fragile. All that changed the instant they stepped outside. They were greeted by the glare of flashes and the whir of cameras. A second later a reporter shoved a microphone in Mike’s face.
“Is it true that being mayor of Blytheville is only the first step in your political aspirations?” the reporter probed. Her voice was well modulated, her appearance glamorous yet businesslike at the same time.
Mike gave her a practiced smile. “I’m not mayor yet,” he reminded her, “but if the citizens of Blytheville elect me, I plan to spend the next four years doing everything I can to honor their trust in me.” It was the perfect politician’s response, sounding positive but not answering the question.
The repo
rter turned her attention and her microphone to Gillian. “What do you think of Mike’s plans?”
Grateful that no one had recognized her as anything more than Mike’s date, Gillian smiled. “I think he’ll be a terrific mayor.”
The questions continued as they waited for the car, with Mike fielding them as easily as if he were born to do this. Perhaps he was. As she’d watched Mike respond, Gillian had been struck by the realization that his parents hadn’t exaggerated when they’d told him he would shine in politics.
“Thank you all,” Mike said as the valet opened the door to the Ferrari for Gillian. Another barrage of flashes marked their departure, but within seconds they were pulling away from the concert hall.
“I’m sorry,” he said for the second time that evening. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Chalk it up to another occupational hazard.” Fortunately it had been Mike’s career and not her own that had been the reporters’ focus.
TJ closed the cabin door behind him and descended the steps. He couldn’t explain his restlessness. The time at Firefly Valley had gone well, despite Gillian’s absence. The teens had finally started telling stories themselves rather than relying on TJ to entertain them, which made his evenings easier. Unfortunately, tonight it had also given him too much time to picture Gillian and Mike sitting in that fancy Italian sports car of his, having a dinner that cost more than TJ earned in a week, attending a concert surrounded by the rich and famous crowd.
TJ didn’t begrudge her any of that. That was Gillian’s world before her accident. It was only natural that she would enjoy being there again. TJ wasn’t jealous of Mike. Even if he could, he wouldn’t change places with him. All that money meant Mike lived in the public eye, and a fishbowl existence had never appealed to TJ.
