by Amanda Cabot
Gillian bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to remain silent. There was no point in arguing when she knew Brianna would not listen. She considered it nothing less than a small miracle that she’d returned to Rainbow’s End at the exact moment Brianna had stormed out of Firefly Valley, tears streaming down her cheeks, her face contorted in rage. The girl was almost incoherent, but between the screams and the obscenities, Gillian had pieced together the picture of a fight between Brianna and her mother culminating in Brianna’s threat to run away with Pete.
“He’s the only one who understands me,” Brianna had declared. “He’s the only one who sees I’m a woman. Mom thinks I’m still a little girl. Well, I’m not!”
Though Brianna’s behavior more closely resembled that of a child in the midst of a tantrum than the grown woman she claimed to be, Gillian refused to become involved in the argument.
“I need some new clothes,” she told Brianna. “Want to help me pick them out?” When the teen hesitated, she increased the stakes. “Who knows? You might find the right dress for the end-of-school party. If you do, I’ll buy it for you.”
As Gillian had hoped, Brianna’s eyes had brightened, and she’d climbed into the car. Though Brianna had refused to speak to her mother, as soon as they were once again in cell range, Gillian had coaxed the number from her and had called Natalie, telling her her daughter was with her and would probably spend the night with her.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into her,” Natalie had said just before she hung up. Though Gillian doubted that was possible, she could keep mother and daughter apart and ensure Brianna spent no time with Pete today.
As Brianna continued her diatribe, listing her mother’s many flaws and Pete’s many assets, Gillian said nothing. There were times when the best thing to do was let someone vent, and this was one of them. When Brianna paused to take a breath, Gillian said, “The decision’s yours. There’s a dress shop in Blytheville I’ve been wanting to visit, but I thought we’d go to the Angora farm first. Is that okay?” Stacy had told her that although it did not bear the Tarkett name, the farm and the shop Marisa had raved about were among the family’s holdings.
Brianna relaxed her fists as she turned toward Gillian. “I heard they have cool clothes there.” With the volatility so common to teens, all signs of Brianna’s anger had disappeared, replaced by the anticipation of shopping.
Gillian tried not to smile at the abrupt change of mood. “Marisa said they carry mostly sweaters and scarves. I thought those were supposed to be warm, not cool.”
Twisting her mouth into an expression that could have served as a Halloween ghoul’s mask, Brianna said, “Yeah, right.” She was silent for a second, then wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you were trying to be funny, weren’t you? I hate to break this to you, but you’ll never be invited to Saturday Night Live.”
“And here I thought I had a career as a comedian.” Gillian rejoiced in Brianna’s grin and the visible relaxing of her shoulders. It seemed as if she’d put her anger behind her, at least temporarily.
“No chance.” Brianna twisted in the seat so she faced Gillian. “What was it like being a famous pianist? It sounds so glamorous—all that travel, all those beautiful clothes.”
Gillian had thought so once. “Believe it or not, it’s a job, and like any job, it has its good and its bad. The hours of practice are exhausting, and after a while, all the hotels, restaurants, and airports start to look alike.”
“But you kept doing it. Why?”
Gillian smiled, remembering. “The applause made it all worthwhile.”
“That must have been cool, all those people standing up and clapping for you.”
“I didn’t get a standing ovation every time, but you’re right; it was cool.” Each time it had happened, Gillian’s heart had pounded with the realization that the audience cared enough to give her more than polite applause. She’d quickly learned to distinguish between perfunctory clapping and genuine enthusiasm, and the real thing had made her rejoice.
“I wish someone would clap for me. All my mom does is criticize me. I can’t do anything to make her happy.” Brianna’s voice held wistful longing, a far cry from the anger that had colored it only minutes earlier, leaving Gillian wishing there were something she could do or say to comfort her. TJ would have known what to say, but TJ wasn’t here. Gillian was on her own.
“You probably don’t believe it, but I envy you,” she told the teen. “You have something I always wanted—a mother.”
Brianna’s face registered disbelief. “What happened to yours?”
“She died when I was born, and my dad never remarried.”
Brianna’s expression had changed, and for a second Gillian thought she saw pity in her brown eyes. “So what did he do?”
“He hired a nanny. A lot of them. They never seemed to last more than six months.”
“But at least they were nice.”
“If you say so.” To be fair, the nannies had been kind, but kindness wasn’t what Gillian had sought. Love was. “The best thing that happened to me was when Kate moved in with her grandparents down the street. They became my second family.”
“That’s sad.” Brianna’s expression underwent another of the mercurial changes that seemed to be the order of the day, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “I’ve got an offer you can’t refuse. I’ll give you my mom if you let me move into your cabin.”
“Let’s see how you like the sleepover tonight. You might discover I’m an old fuddy-duddy who snores so loudly you can’t sleep.”
As Gillian had hoped, Brianna giggled. “Just tell me you’ve got good food in your fridge.”
Gillian shook her head. “Juice and milk’s the limit, but I have a secret weapon: Carmen. We can raid her refrigerator if we’re hungry.”
“Good deal.”
A few minutes later, they pulled into the driveway leading to the Angora goat farm. If the sign was any indication, the products would be unique, for the goats certainly were. They had the usual muzzle, beard, and floppy ears, but their fleece was long and curly. “Let’s see if we can find something for Sally here.”
Gillian parked in the lot, pausing while Brianna admired the dozen or so goats grazing in the pasture, clearly unaffected by the presence of customers.
From the outside, the store looked like an ordinary barn, but once they were indoors, Gillian realized why both Marisa and Stacy had raved about it. For anyone who enjoyed woven or knitted goods, this was a shopper’s paradise. Tables piled with a seemingly endless variety of merchandise, racks bearing sweaters in every size and style imaginable, and bins filled with skeins of yarn all competed for the customer’s attention.
“What do you think?” Gillian asked Brianna.
“I think I need one of everything.”
Brianna helped Gillian select an open-weave sweater in light blue for Sally, seeming to enjoy being included in the decision. And, though she oohed and aahed over most of the merchandise, she bought only one item, an afghan she declared perfect for her bedroom in the new apartment. Gillian smiled, as much at the fact that Brianna had abandoned the idea of running away as at the intricately patterned afghan.
Though they explored not only the dress shop Kate had recommended but also three other stores, Brianna found nothing that appealed to her in Blytheville. “It doesn’t matter,” she told Gillian. “I don’t need a new outfit for the party.” But it did matter. Gillian knew that.
“Maybe you can find something of mine that suits you,” she suggested. “I’ve got a closet full of clothes. Two, actually.” When she’d decided to extend her stay at Rainbow’s End, Gillian had had the housekeeper ship the majority of her summer wardrobe to Texas. There might be something that appealed to Brianna.
“Really? You’d let me borrow your clothes?”
“Why not?”
Brianna grin
ned. “That would be cool.”
She also found the barbecue dinner and the movie followed by ice cream to be cool. By the time they arrived back at Rainbow’s End, it was after ten.
“Thanks, Gillian,” Brianna said as she grabbed a pair of borrowed pajamas and headed for Gillian’s second bedroom. “I had a good time.”
So did Gillian, although she was more exhausted than she’d been in months. This pseudo-parenthood business was harder than she’d imagined, but at least Brianna was still here.
43
Where was she? She’d missed supper, the evening in Firefly Valley, and now breakfast, all without a word of explanation. That wasn’t like Gillian. She normally made a point of saying something if she was going to miss the time with the teenagers.
TJ had told himself he wasn’t being nosy, that he was simply checking on a friend’s welfare when he’d walked by her cabin last night. No lights. No car. Gillian was definitely not there. The question was, where was she? The only answer that made sense was that she was spending the evening with Mike, but if that was so, why was her car gone? Mike normally picked her up.
The last time Gillian had been gone so long had been the day she’d spent at the hospital waiting for Baby Vange to arrive. Kate and Greg’s presence at supper told TJ nothing was wrong with either the baby or Kate’s grandmother. That left Mike as the most likely reason for Gillian’s absence. Perhaps there had been a late-night event and she was staying at the ranch with his parents. But if that was the case, it didn’t explain why she hadn’t told TJ she’d miss their time in Firefly Valley.
Trying to shake off his disgruntlement, TJ climbed onto his motorcycle. It was time to get to school. But though he told himself he shouldn’t, TJ couldn’t stop himself from detouring toward Gillian’s cabin.
The car was there. Elation flowed through his veins at the proof of Gillian’s return. It might be a whole day later than he’d expected, but he would be able to get her spin on the teaching contract this afternoon.
As TJ started to turn the bike, the cabin door opened and Brianna Carter emerged, wearing an outfit TJ recognized as belonging to Gillian and carrying a large shopping bag.
“Thanks for everything.” Brianna waved at Gillian, who stood behind her. “That was the best sleepover ever.”
Even from this distance, TJ could see Gillian’s smile. “You’re welcome,” she told the teen.
Relief that Gillian hadn’t been with Mike flooded through TJ as he switched off the motorcycle and approached the cabin.
“Good morning, Gillian,” he said when Brianna was out of earshot. He hoped it was a good morning for her, because the dark circles under her eyes told TJ sleep had not been a major component of the sleepover. “I missed you last night.” And yesterday afternoon and this morning.
“I’m sorry. I should have left you a message, but things got a little crazy. I was trying to convince Brianna not to run away with Pete. She had a fight with her mom and decided the answer was to stow away in Pete’s truck so he’d marry her.”
“I don’t think Pete’s interested in marriage.”
Gillian’s expression left no doubt that she agreed. “I didn’t tell her that. Instead I bribed her with a shopping trip and a girls’ night out. It was the only thing I could think of to distract her.”
“It looks like you succeeded.”
Brushing a lock of hair from her face, she nodded. “Temporarily. I did learn one thing, though, and that’s that this counseling business is tough.”
“True, but it’s also rewarding.” TJ glanced at his watch and frowned. “I’d like to talk to you about a couple things, but I’ve got to get to school. If you’re free this afternoon, we could take a picnic to Paintbrush Island and still be back in time to go to Firefly Valley.”
Gillian was silent for a second or two, as if she was as surprised by the invitation as TJ was. He hadn’t planned a picnic, though Greg had told him on several occasions that the small island on the other side of Bluebonnet Lake was an ideal spot for one. Somehow the words had popped out, seemingly on their own.
“Sure,” Gillian said. “That sounds like fun.”
Gillian was having a difficult time concentrating on work. Fortunately, there weren’t too many customers, and the one she’d directed to cookbooks when she’d wanted a gardening guide was unlikely to tell the rest of Dupree that Gillian Hodge was having a bad day. She could blame her lack of concentration on being tired, but that was only a tiny part of the cause. The real reason was TJ’s invitation.
It had been almost a month since they’d attended the rodeo. Since then, with the notable exception of that unforgettable kiss, they hadn’t been on anything that resembled a date. Now he’d suggested a picnic for two. What had changed?
Gillian felt a frisson of excitement at the thought of Paintbrush Island. Kate had told her it was the most romantic spot in the whole area, and Marisa’s eyes brightened whenever she spoke of the island, as if she too had found it a special place. Of course, Gillian reminded herself, nothing in TJ’s expression had led her to believe he had anything romantic in mind. It was Mike who had proposed, Mike whom she’d refused.
Perhaps TJ was simply looking for some exercise or perhaps he wanted a change of pace from having supper with other guests. He was probably one of those who believed in the buddy system when water was involved. That was it. Gillian was the designated buddy. She shouldn’t read anything into the invitation other than a simple picnic supper and a chance to talk about whatever was on TJ’s mind, but she couldn’t help wishing he viewed her as more than a buddy. Though there were times when he looked at her as if she were more than a friend, he’d said nothing that could be construed as lover-like.
“You look like summer personified,” TJ said seven hours later when they met on the dock. By the time Gillian arrived, dressed in hunter green shorts, a floral print top, and a straw hat, he’d gotten the boat out of the boathouse and had already loaded a picnic basket into it.
“Thanks. You look pretty summery yourself.” TJ wore khaki shorts and a polo the same shade of green as her shorts. “It almost looks like we decided to color coordinate.”
“I wish I could claim mental telepathy, but the answer is a lot simpler. This was the only clean shirt in the drawer.” He extended his hand, helping her climb into the boat, then untied it and hopped in himself.
TJ rowed as if he’d done it before, his strokes seemingly effortless, although Gillian knew they weren’t.
“Were you on the crew in college?” she asked, wondering where he’d gained such expertise.
“It’s more recent than that. There was a small lake near our apartment and a fellow who rented boats. Deb and I used to row there occasionally.”
Though his sunglasses made it difficult to be certain, Gillian heard no pain in TJ’s voice when he spoke of his wife. Perhaps his efforts to reestablish his relationship with God were healing his empty heart. If so, another of her prayers was being answered.
When they reached the island, although Gillian had expected TJ to dock the boat on the edge closest to Rainbow’s End, he continued to the opposite side, declaring the best spot was out of sight of the resort.
“This is it,” he said, slowing as they approached a part of the island where the trees came closer to the shore but still left enough room for beaching the boat.
Though the other side of the island had been lovely, this one surpassed it. The ground rose from the lake edge to a small hill covered with hickory and mesquite, and while the trees weren’t as tall as the ones that surrounded the resort itself, they were large enough to provide shade. With no houses or other signs of civilization in sight, it was a scene of both beauty and peace.
“I can see why Kate raves about this place,” Gillian said as TJ pulled the boat onto the shore. “It’s gorgeous.”
“We’re too late for the namesake Indian paintbrush t
o be in bloom, but this still looks like a good spot for a picnic. Are you hungry?”
Gillian nodded. “You bet. I ate a light lunch, because I’ve heard about Carmen’s picnics.” The tales of enough food to feed a small crowd were only slight exaggerations. As if she’d been unsure of what TJ and Gillian might like, Carmen had provided a variety. The basket contained large quantities of roast beef and tuna sandwiches, both potato salad and coleslaw, and thermoses of lemonade and sweet tea, along with a selection of enormous sugar, peanut butter, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
“This tastes even better than it looks,” Gillian said as she bit into a cookie. It had been a pleasant meal, filled with good food and casual conversation, but now that it was almost over, she felt TJ begin to tense, and that made her shoulders tighten.
“As I mentioned this morning, I had an ulterior motive for bringing you out here,” he said. “I need your opinion.”
There was nothing remotely romantic about either his words or the way he delivered them. Gillian knew she shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed, and yet she was.
“Go ahead.” She broke off another piece of cookie, hoping the simple act of chewing would help her swallow her disappointment. Though she was tempted to cup her ears as TJ had, she did not. “As Sally used to say, I’m all ears.”
TJ snagged a chocolate chip cookie, then leaned against a tree trunk. “Jake Thomas offered me a full-time position.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Gillian tried to imagine what TJ wanted her to say. “That’s good news, isn’t it?” She knew he’d been reassessing his future. Although she had thought he was considering the ministry, this could be the answer he sought. Despite his own misgivings, Gillian knew he was a talented teacher. “Did you accept?”
“Yes and no. I wanted to see what you thought.”
Again, she searched his face, looking for a clue to the kind of response that would satisfy him. “I’d say that all depends on what you want to do. Dupree is a nice town. You could make a difference in the kids’ lives here. In fact, you’re already doing that. Staying would simply give you a chance to have more of an impact on them.”
