On Lone Star Trail

by Amanda Cabot

  “So, what do you think of the Tarkett uniform?” Stacy demanded as she took a step backward and gestured toward her jean skirt, white shirt, and red hat. The feminine version of Mike’s outfit flattered her and announced that she was one of Mike’s supporters.

  “It’s great. Very distinctive. My friend Kate would approve.” Pulling her phone from her bag, Gillian gestured toward Mike and his mother. “Let me send her a picture.”

  As soon as Gillian had snapped the picture, Stacy reached for her phone. “And let me take one of you and Blytheville’s future mayor.” When Mike wrapped his arm around Gillian’s shoulders and she looked up, smiling into his eyes, Stacy took a couple shots. “Nice.”

  “It is indeed,” Cal said as he approached the trio. Like his wife and son, he was dressed in jeans, a white shirt, and a red hat. “There’s only one problem. Where’s Gillian’s hat?”

  Stacy gave his arm a playful swat. “Now, Cal, don’t pressure her. Gillian’s already in red, white, and blue.”

  “But it’s not the same.” Cal feigned a scowl.

  “C’mon, guys. I think you’ve said enough.” Mike reached into the float and pulled out another red hat, extending it toward Gillian. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to wear one, but even if you don’t, I was hoping you’d ride on our float.”

  At the moment, there was nothing Gillian wanted more. “Yes to both.” As she settled the hat onto her hair, she grinned. “I’m happy to be an honorary Tarkett.”

  Though Stacy looked as if she wanted to say something, the arrival of half a dozen trucks bearing the rest of the Tarkett clan distracted her. Within a minute, the parking lot was filled with two generations of Tarketts, all sporting the distinctive red hats of Mike’s campaign.

  “All right. Let’s get started.” Cal helped his wife onto the float, then gestured toward Mike and Gillian.

  “Just a second. I want a better look.” Before she climbed into the float, Gillian walked around it, studying it from all angles.

  “You seem surprised,” Mike said when she’d completed the circuit.

  “I am. I was expecting something more elaborate and a ‘vote for Mike’ sign,” she admitted. The Tarkett float was identical to the other two in the parking lot, nothing more than a farm trailer draped in red, white, and blue bunting.

  “Not today. One of the town’s traditions is that all floats in this parade are the same. There’s no one-upmanship on Memorial Day. Instead, we’re commemorating others. It’s kind of like those candlelight vigils where the important thing is just being there.”

  “But there are no restrictions for the Fourth of July.” One of Mike’s cousins rolled her eyes. “Everything is big and gaudy and fun. You should see what my brother and I have in mind for Mike’s float.”

  Mike wrinkled his nose in faux disgust. “I can see you and I are going to have to have a long, serious discussion.”

  “Discuss away, cousin. You know you’ll cave in the end.”

  “Now, children.” Stacy shook her head and turned to her husband. “What did we do that they turned out this way?”

  “Showed them that life should be fun?” he offered, giving Stacy’s nose a light tweak followed by a kiss.

  Gillian smiled at the playful banter. If she’d been asked to define the perfect family, it would be this one. Though she’d known that Sally and Grandpa Larry loved each other, they’d never been as demonstrative as Cal and Stacy were. It was refreshing, and yes, heartwarming, to see the love Mike’s parents shared.

  Gillian knew she’d never forget either that love or the way Blytheville celebrated the day. The parade wound through the streets, the bunting-draped floats interspersed with marching bands playing patriotic songs.

  When they reached the center of town, Gillian thought they would stop in front of the courthouse. The large square bordered by Blytheville’s most impressive buildings seemed the perfect location for speeches, but the parade did not slow until they reached the cemetery. Once there, everyone disembarked from the floats and gathered around the small platform that had been erected in the center of the graveyard.

  When the last person had arrived, one of the town’s ministers climbed onto the platform and offered a prayer, asking God to bless the memory of the men and women who’d served their country so faithfully. He was followed by the current mayor, who made a brief speech. Mike’s opponent was the next to step behind the microphone.

  Gillian sized him up. He was as tall as Mike and equally distinguished. And, as Mike had predicted, he wore a white hat with a red, white, and blue hatband and a large button pin that Gillian suspected was one of his campaign buttons. To Gillian’s surprise, the man began his speech with a reference to his service in Afghanistan. At her side, Stacy hissed, then nudged Cal. Apparently the other man had broken one of the unwritten rules.

  Mike said nothing, and when it was his turn to speak, he gave a simple tribute to fallen heroes with no mention of himself. The round of applause after his speech was longer and louder than any of the predecessors’, but Gillian wasn’t certain whether they were applauding what Mike had said and his restraint from personal aggrandizement or simply that the speeches had ended and they could return to town for the barbecue.

  Held in the town’s largest park, the barbecue was both a fundraiser for the local veterans’ group and an opportunity for residents to share stories of their families’ bravery. As Gillian had expected, a reporter from the Blytheville paper was present, interviewing both mayoral candidates as well as a cross section of ordinary citizens.

  “Nice hat, Mike,” the reporter, who wore a red and white polka dot blouse with one of the shortest navy skirts Gillian had seen, said with a grin. “And who’s your companion?”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “As if you didn’t know, Rita. If you didn’t see all those pictures of us on the internet after the concert, you’re slipping up.” The words were accompanied by a smile that confirmed Mike and Rita’s friendship.

  “Nice to meet you, Gillian. Are you hanging around for the basketball game?” When Mike shook his head, Rita informed Gillian that Mike had been the star of Blytheville High’s basketball team. “But you probably already knew that.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. Mike’s one of the most modest men I’ve met.”

  “And modest men finish last.”

  No matter what Rita said, Gillian didn’t want to believe that. She was hardly an expert on Blytheville politics, but she knew enough about politics in general to know Mike would be a good mayor. Honor and integrity combined with modesty was what every town in America needed.

  “I hope not.”

  Mike slid his arm around Gillian’s waist. “I hate to break up this fascinating conversation, but you’re making me uncomfortable, talking about me as if I’m not here. Besides,” he said after a glance at his watch, “I promised my parents we’d be back at the ranch by four.”

  A couple hours of lazy conversation alongside the pool were followed by a fried chicken supper. The Tarkett family obviously enjoyed being together, and Gillian was happy to be included.

  As the sun began to set, everyone piled into their trucks, leaving Mike and Gillian to follow in his car. It was time for the fireworks, the culmination of Blytheville’s Memorial Day, and the Tarketts would be there. To Gillian’s surprise, when they reached town, the trucks turned left, but Mike did not.

  “I thought your mother said the fireworks were at the park.”

  “They are,” he agreed, “but that’s not the only place to see them.” He turned right and headed up the hill to a residential area. Single family homes lined one side of the street, while a row of two-story town houses occupied the other. Mike pushed the remote, opening the garage of one of the town houses and pulled inside.

  “I thought you might like to see where I live.”

  When he’d switched off the engine, Mike helped Gillian ou
t of the car and up the steps into his home. They entered through a modest kitchen, then climbed the stairs to the second-story den, which boasted a balcony overlooking the city. To Gillian’s surprise, though she knew there were neighbors on both sides and suspected they also had balconies, they were out of sight.

  “One of the things I like about this complex is that the architect managed to preserve privacy without using a lot of land,” Mike said as he ushered her onto the balcony and closed the sliding glass doors behind them. “If I want open spaces, I can go to the ranch. This place is close to town and low maintenance.”

  “Plus it has a fabulous view.” Gillian gasped as the first fireworks burst into the sky, huge red, white, and blue balls that hung in the air for an improbably long time before fading into darkness. They were followed by rockets, pyrotechnic waterfalls, and a not particularly successful attempt at an American flag. Gillian didn’t care about the imperfection. What was important was the sentiment behind the fireworks. This was a town honoring its heroes.

  For half an hour she and Mike stood next to the balcony railing, his arm around her waist, as they watched the magnificent display. When the show ended and the last shooting star disappeared, he turned to face her.

  “That was wonderful,” Gillian said, still marveling at the beauty. She’d attended fireworks displays before, but always as part of a crowd. Being here with Mike had made tonight extra special.

  “Not as wonderful as you.” Mike swallowed deeply, then cupped her cheek, his fingers moving slowly toward her chin. “There’s a reason I brought you here away from everyone else. I love my family, but at times they can be overwhelming. I wanted tonight to be just the two of us.”

  Mike’s hand touched her lips before dropping to his side. “When Mom insisted I go to Rainbow’s End, I never expected this. I figured I was in for a week of boredom. Instead, these past two months have been the best of my life, and it’s all because of you. I love you, Gillian. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how deep that love is.”

  Mike reached into his pocket and withdrew a square box that could hold only one thing. “Will you marry me?”

  Gillian’s heart began to pound. Was this the plan God had for her, the answer to her prayers for a family of her own? Stacy and Cal treated her like one of their children. That was what Gillian had always wanted, a family that loved her for who she was. It could be hers forever, if she said yes.

  She looked at the man standing next to her, love shining from his eyes. There were so many reasons to say yes. She cared deeply for Mike. He would be a good husband. If she married him, she’d have both a mother and a father. She would even make her own father happy. Gillian felt as if she was ticking off the advantages on her fingers. Everything urged her to say yes, and yet . . .

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Mike swallowed, and Gillian knew she’d disappointed him. “Say yes,” he urged her.

  “Marriage is a big step.” In the second when she’d been ready to say yes, she’d felt as if she were on the edge of a precipice. A single step would take her into the unknown, and though she believed Mike would catch her, something held her back. Perhaps it was simply too soon. Perhaps it was the fear that she was like Brianna, in love with the idea of what a man could provide rather than the man himself. Perhaps it was the feelings for TJ that she couldn’t dismiss, no matter how hard she tried. Gillian wasn’t certain. All she knew was that she couldn’t give Mike the answer he wanted.

  “I guess I’m just not ready.”

  Mike was silent for a moment as he slipped the ring back into his pocket, his eyes troubled. “I’m sure you know that’s not the answer I was hoping for. My family claims I’m a patient man, but they’re wrong. I don’t like waiting. But you, Gillian, are worth waiting for. I’ll try to be patient until you’re ready.”

  He managed a small smile. “I’m giving you fair warning, though. I’m persistent. I’m going to do everything I can to convince you. I’m also going to ask you the same question every two weeks until you say yes.” Mike turned to face the house. “Now, let’s get you back to Rainbow’s End. It’s been a long day.”

  42

  TJ was not a happy man. He raced his bike up Ranger Hill, trying not to think about Gillian missing breakfast. Although no one was assigned a specific time, they’d resumed their habit of eating together. That was a fine way to start the day. At least TJ thought so. Why was today different?

  Gillian’s car had been in its normal spot, although that didn’t prove much, since she didn’t usually go into town for another hour. Perhaps she had overslept. There was no reason to imagine a sinister reason for her absence. It wasn’t as if she and Mike Tarkett had eloped to Vegas after the fireworks display last night.

  TJ’s frown deepened. Why did that thought have to pop into his head? Why did he have to picture an Elvis impersonator performing the ceremony? Surely Gillian hadn’t agreed to that. He was close—so close—to having one half of his future planned. Surely he wouldn’t be too late for the second.

  Trying to get his mind focused on teaching, he parked his bike in its usual spot and headed for the back entrance. As TJ entered the school, Jake Thomas emerged from his office.

  “Just the man I wanted to see,” the principal announced, clapping TJ on the shoulder. “Will you stop in during your free period? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  The day had just gotten worse. TJ had heard several of the teachers grousing about the upcoming end-of-school party. If Jake wanted him to chaperone the event, he’d be disappointed. That was one thing TJ had no intention of doing, but he nodded and muttered, “Sure.” He had no choice other than to listen to whatever Jake had to say.

  Two and a half hours later, TJ entered the principal’s office and took the seat Jake indicated, prepared to offer a list of reasons he should not be a chaperone.

  The principal leaned forward slightly, placing his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers. “All the classes I’ve attended tell me to start with pleasantries,” Jake said. “I never saw much point in that, so I’m going to cut to the chase. I’ve been impressed with what you’ve done here. I don’t want to give you a swelled head, but I’ve heard nothing but good things from the students, their parents, and the other teachers.”

  TJ blinked at the unexpected praise, wondering where this was leading. This sounded like more was at stake than the party.

  The principal nodded, then picked up a folder from the middle of his desk. “The bottom line is, I’d like to offer you a full-time position for next year. I’ve got the contract here.”

  TJ stared in amazement. “I’m honored, sir.” Flabbergasted was more like it. The ever-active grapevine had told him Jake had been reviewing résumés and was leaning toward a woman who’d left a few years earlier to raise a family.

  Jake frowned. “What’s this ‘sir’ business? I thought we were on a first-name basis.”

  “You’re right, Jake. I guess I’m more surprised than I realized.” This could be the opportunity he needed, a chance to save the money for seminary, a chance to be certain that was what God intended for him. Though the call to ordination was strong, it had not been accompanied by a sense of urgency. Instead, TJ felt as if he were being cautioned to move slowly. Perhaps this was the reason why. Perhaps he still had more to do in Dupree.

  “I hope the surprise was a pleasant one.”

  “It was. It is. I just need to think it over a bit. I want to pray about it.” A month ago, TJ would not have said that, much less been comfortable mentioning his prayer life with the principal, but that was a month ago. TJ was no longer the same man.

  Jake nodded. “I understand. Take your time, TJ. I want you to be certain this is the right decision for you.” He paused and glanced at the calendar posted on the side wall. “Do you think you’ll have your decision by the time school ends?”

&nbs
p; Though it was less than two weeks, TJ had no difficulty nodding. “That’ll be fine.” That would give him time to think, to pray, and to talk to Gillian.

  Though the last need nagged at him, TJ couldn’t simply leave the school in the middle of the day. Instead, he found himself watching the clock, counting the minutes as eagerly as any of his students did. When the final bell rang, he practically sprinted to the parking lot. Three minutes later he arrived at Hill Country Pages. Though Gillian had normally left by this time, there was always the possibility she was working late. He didn’t want to ride out to Rainbow’s End only to discover she was still in town.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the woman who was manning the cash register told him. “Gillian left on time today. I imagine she’s back at Rainbow’s End.”

  But she wasn’t. Her car was missing, and when TJ knocked on the door to her cabin, there was no answer. He headed for the office, hoping whoever was on duty would know where Gillian had gone. There he found Brandi, one of the teenagers who served meals as well as worked the front desk, laughing as she read a newspaper.

  “Want to share the joke?”

  She looked up, her face flushing. “I’m not sure you’ll find it funny.” Reluctantly, she showed him a picture of Gillian and Mike. Mike had his arm wrapped around her waist, and she was looking up at him as if he were the most wonderful man in the universe. “They sure look like lovebirds, don’t they?” Brandi asked.

  “Yeah.” Unfortunately, they did.

  If there were ever a time when retail therapy was needed, it was now. An afternoon of shopping might not bring about world peace, but it just might prevent an elopement.

  “I hate her! She doesn’t understand me!” Brianna clenched her fists and pounded the armrest, seemingly oblivious to the beautiful countryside outside the window.