The Best Blind Date in Texas

by Victoria Chancellor

  But did he want to be tied into a relationship of convenience with Amy? Would he feel encumbered by their public appearances and private moments? His gut reaction said no. Amy wasn’t like most women he’d dated since the divorce, probably because she also wasn’t looking for a husband at the moment. Or maybe she was simply easier to be around, to talk to, than other women. He wasn’t sure, because he’d never given his other dates a chance to get beyond the awkward first contact, when both people were trying hard to make a good first impression.

  Maybe that was the difference, he thought as he walked out of the Grayson Industries offices toward his car. At first he’d stuck to his “date face,” keeping his remarks polite and polished. But he hadn’t been able to maintain that persona for long with Amy. Somehow, she drew him out of his aloof behavior and into his natural personality. He’d taken her to his cabin on Lake Buchanan, he’d shared his dating secret with her, and he’d kissed her as a man kisses a woman he desires, not as a polite date kisses someone goodbye.

  He eased the Lexus out of the parking lot and onto the farm-to-market road that wound its way through rocky hills covered in mesquite and other stunted trees to his home. Could he keep his hands to himself and his mind off making love to Dr. Amy Wheatley? Perhaps. Then again, he thought with a smile, maybe the good doctor wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off him. An interesting complication, one he could live with.

  He firmly believed there was a big difference between physical desire and emotional commitment. If Amy felt the same way, they might enjoy more than occasional dates. If she didn’t…well, then they could still have a good time together.

  His mind made up, he decided to call her as soon as he got home. His heart felt lighter as he imagined the weeks and months to come, with no further blind dates, with a beautiful, intelligent woman at his side.

  Yes, the future was definitely looking up.

  THE HARVEST FESTIVAL AT the church was always scheduled the weekend before Thanksgiving, putting everyone in the mood for the holiday season. Amy had been to the festival dozens of times in her life, but never as an adult with a date. A date who produced more attention than a two-headed calf at a carnival. A date who made her feel both special and nervous at the same time.

  She and Gray strolled side by side, not holding hands or linked arm and arm, through crowds consisting of her friends and neighbors. An occasional group of children ran through the festival attendees, their high-pitched squeals as common as the taped organ music coming from the kiddie rides in the back parking lot.

  She smiled and nodded at Ralph Biggerstaff, the Ranger Springs banker who was a long-time patient of her father. His persistent bursitis must not be acting up today, since he was walking around saying hello to bank patrons.

  Surprisingly, Gray knew most of the people they encountered. He must have attended many social events in the months he’d lived in Ranger Springs, while she was still in Fort Worth. Occasionally she stopped to introduce him to a farmer or rancher who didn’t spend much time in town. She wasn’t sure he wanted to know everyone within a fifty-mile radius, but as far as she was concerned, the more people who knew they were a couple, the better.

  “Thanks for coming to the festival with me,” she said as they walked slowly past a booth offering popcorn and soft drinks. “I forgot how much I missed this annual event. Most of the time, I came with a group of friends.”

  “Not dates?”

  She shook her head. “Not usually, although when I was a junior in high school, I accomplished the near impossible and got a date with the quarterback from Wimberley. He was a bit of a local hero, and I was feeling awfully good about myself that day.” She ended with a laugh, remembering the teenage pressures to both conform and excel.

  “Why do you say it was the ‘near impossible?’ I would imagine you could have dated anyone you wanted to.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I was up against some pretty steep competition. Lots of girls from Wimberley, plus all the other small towns around here. Believe me, even without his athletic ability, Jason had his pick of dates.”

  “A real jock, hmm?”

  “Yes, and I thought I’d reeled him in until…”

  “What?”

  “Oh, this sounds so childish now, but you remember Maryanne Bridges from the charity event in Austin?” At Gray’s nod, Amy continued. “Just when I thought I’d be going steady with Jason, she decided she wanted him.”

  “And whatever Maryanne wants, she gets, I take it?”

  “Right.” Amy shook her head. Without thinking, she looped her arm through Gray’s. “I was so angry with her…well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing my skills didn’t extend to archery. Maryanne might still have an arrow sticking out of her—never mind.”

  Gray laughed. “I think I get the picture.” He caressed her hand, then snuggled her close against him. He stopped in front of a booth offering games of skill, according to the sign. “Would you like a stuffed animal? I’m not sure my aim is as accurate as old Jason the quarterback, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

  Amy laughed, thoroughly enjoying the Indian summer day, the familiar smells of popcorn and taffy and sounds of children laughing. And especially the man beside her. “I’d love for you to win a stuffed animal for me. Big or small, I’m not picky.”

  She hadn’t been telling the truth, she realized a moment later as Gray paid for three baseballs and sized up the game. She was picky, but only when it came to the men in her life. She wouldn’t have proposed this pretend dating situation with anyone else.

  Fifteen minutes later, a bright purple teddy bear clasped in one arm and Gray in the other, Amy spotted two of the people responsible for this situation. When she realized they were also arm in arm, she stumbled.

  “Are you okay?” Gray asked as she regained her balance on the flat, dry lawn beside the church.

  “Am I hallucinating, or is that my father with Joyce?”

  Gray turned his attention to the crowd, finally spotting her dad. “That’s what I’m seeing too. I didn’t know your father was involved with Joyce.”

  “I didn’t either,” Amy answered, wondering how she really felt about her dad with another woman. Her heart had sped up, her mind going blank for just an instant when she’d first seen them. She was surprised, but not offended. Her father deserved a personal life. Her mother had been gone for nearly eighteen years, and to the best of Amy’s knowledge, her dad had never been involved with another woman.

  Maybe now that she’d returned to Ranger Springs, Amy thought, he finally had time to pursue a romantic relationship. Why not with Joyce? The beauty shop owner was attractive, perky and smart. Had her father just noticed those facts, or had he dated Joyce before and kept their relationship a secret?

  Don’t be ridiculous, Amy told herself. There were no secrets in a small town. Not unless the two people conspired together to deceive everyone, she reminded herself. She and Gray were doing a good job so far, but she didn’t believe either her father or Joyce had the type of personalities that could keep such a secret for long.

  Guilt at deceiving her father surfaced, this time more persistent because she was publicly admitting her relationship to Gray. She didn’t like the feeling of guilt, but after seeing the look of delight on Ambrose Wheatley’s face when she’d announced their date for the Harvest Festival, how could she tell him this was all pretend? Perhaps someday she’d be forced to reveal the deception, but until then, she appreciated his enjoyment in what he considered a great coup d’état—getting her “fixed up” with the town’s most eligible bachelor.

  “I think they just saw us,” Gray said.

  “Then we’d better smile and greet them. My father is tickled pink that we’re ‘dating.’ I wouldn’t want to shatter the illusion.” Sure enough, her dad nodded in their direction and guided Joyce toward them.

  “Just be yourself. I don’t think there’s any way we’ll give away our secret, not if we’re truly enjoying each other�
��s company.”

  “I’m having a good time,” she said, giving Gray’s muscular forearm a small squeeze to emphasize her point.

  “I am too,” Gray replied, smiling down at her, his silvery eyes sparkling with interest and perhaps a bit of mischief. “Let’s say hello to those two matchmakers. Maybe we can give them back a little of their own medicine.”

  Amy laughed, then she and Gray were standing before her father and Joyce. Amy pushed aside her guilt and joined in the fun of watching Dr. Ambrose Wheatley squirm under personal questions that skirted but never crossed the bounds of date etiquette. After all, she’d learned from some of the best—her dad and the rest of the town—and the turnabout was fair play.

  OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Amy established a normal routine. Office hours, paperwork and Wednesday afternoons off. Sunday morning at church with her dad, Friday night dates with Gray.

  And sometimes, she recalled as she dropped a used tongue depressor into the medical waste bin, Saturday afternoons with him as well.

  “All done,” she said to the young man who came in with symptoms of sore throat and chest congestion. He’d removed his flannel shirt so she could listen to his lungs. She seemed to be seeing more young men lately than she would have expected, and sometimes for illnesses or conditions most men didn’t seek medical attention.

  She wondered briefly if the fact she was young and single had anything to do with her patient mix, but then dismissed the idea. She couldn’t imagine men making appointments just to see her…but then, she had a hard time believing insecure wives would keep their husbands away from critically needed medical care. Mr. Gresham hadn’t made an appointment to have his blood pressure checked. She’d have Gladys follow-up.

  “Get dressed and I’ll write out a prescription for antibiotics and a decongestant.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Amy closed the door to the exam room and headed for her office. As usual lately, when she wasn’t examining a patient or updating their records—and sometimes even when she was—her thoughts turned to Gray.

  They’d eaten dinner at Bretford House last week and a German restaurant in Wimberley the weekend before to establish them more firmly as a couple. Amy had made sure the regulars at the café knew about the dates, just in case her father failed to mention the situation. Not that his silence was at all likely, Amy thought wryly.

  But then Gray had invited her to go to San Antonio this Saturday afternoon to pick up a piece of art he’d purchased and had framed at a gallery. They wouldn’t be seeing any people from Ranger Springs, so the invitation had nothing to do with their pretend relationship.

  He’d asked her because he wanted to be with her. The idea was exciting, yet frightening. As long as the relationship was one of mutual convenience with established rules, she could handle the attraction she felt for Gray. Outside the boundaries of their pretend dating, she felt too much. Too tempted by his charm and good looks, too fascinated by his complex personality. She wanted to know why he presented such a controlled presence to the world, yet could act impulsively and with such strong passion while in private.

  If they stepped outside the bounds of their relationship, how could she control her reaction to Gray? How much did she want to try to stop this attraction?

  Should she go with Gray to San Antonio? She stepped inside her office, her eyes focusing on the purple teddy bear she’d sat on the shelves across from her desk. Gray had spent nearly twenty dollars winning the small stuffed animal, but hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d been more amused than irritated by his inability to hit the target. Amy loved the fact he wasn’t overly competitive. She’d grown up around boys who gloried in the rodeo, who spent all their money on customizing pickup trucks and who grew into men who boasted about being the best at anything and everything. Some doctors were so competitive and insecure that she found their boasting laughable. She’d never found that trait attractive.

  What about her competitive tendencies? The need to confront and win only came out around Maryanne Perkins Bridges. Amy didn’t like the feeling, and she didn’t like admitting her weakness. Something from her childhood, some basic insecurity, surfaced around her old nemesis.

  But the heck with Maryanne! Amy had more pressing problems at the moment, like deciding what to do about Gray’s request. Should she go to San Antonio with him? Well, she did have a little more Christmas shopping to do. Perhaps they could stop at one of the malls. Maybe have an early dinner before—

  “Are you about finished with that prescription?” the nurse interrupted her thoughts in a peeved tone. “Your patient is twiddling his thumbs.”

  Amy turned to Gladys. “Sorry. I’ll bring it out in just a second.”

  Darn it, she’d done it again. Her thoughts had strayed to Gray when she should be focusing on her patients. What was it going to take to get her mind off their pretend dating and back to reality?

  THE GALLERY WAS LOCATED near downtown, which teemed with tourists and shoppers just two weeks before Christmas. Gray found a parking spot in a lot nearby and they walked a block or so to the shop. Amy hoped the art wasn’t too large; carrying a heavy, framed piece back to the car would be awkward.

  “You never did tell me what you purchased,” she said as she pulled her jacket close. A cold front had turned the weather chilly, even this far south.

  “It’s hard to describe,” Gray said. “A mixed media piece is what the gallery owner said.”

  “I don’t know a lot about art.”

  “I don’t either, but I needed something for the dining room.”

  “Didn’t you have a decorator do your house?”

  “Yes and no. You know my friend, Ethan Parker? He became chief of police while you were out of town. Well, his wife Robin is an interior decorator, and she helped a lot. I’m not into window treatments and the like, but she designed a minimalist approach I like. Many of the features are built in, so I worked with my architect.”

  “What’s the style?”

  “Kind of modern, I suppose, but using natural materials. I wanted it to blend into the hills.”

  “I imagine it’s a lovely home.”

  Gray held the door to the gallery open for her. “I’d invite you to see it, but you might suspect my motives.”

  Amy smiled. “I might.” She was pretty certain being alone with Gray in his isolated home wasn’t a good idea. They had enough difficulty keeping their hands to themselves in a car or in her office with people nearby.

  The transaction took very little time. Gray examined the art, which consisted of muted shades of burgundy, purple and teal watercolor and oil with a few gold leaf accents. The texture of various layers of paper gave interest to the abstract piece. The gallery owner had suggested a thin gold frame, which hid the canvas edges but didn’t detract from the art.

  Rather like Gray, Amy mused as she watched him. The packaging was nice—well-tailored clothes, touchable fabrics and heavenly scents—but the man himself was an original. Nothing in Gray’s world detracted from his good looks and charm. She wondered how much of the “package” was contrived to give that effect and how much was a natural outgrowth of Gray’s personality.

  “And what does the lady think?” the gallery owner asked.

  He obviously thought they were a couple. Perhaps even a married couple. An obvious error, and one she wasn’t about to point out. There was no need to call attention to themselves here in San Antonio.

  “I like it,” Amy said as the dapper man held it up for her inspection.

  “I do too,” Gray said. “I wondered if I still would after several weeks, but I think it’s going to look perfect in the dining room.”

  As the piece was carefully wrapped, Amy asked. “Do you entertain often?” Even though he was a businessman with contacts around the region, he was still single. She didn’t believe he had a full-time housekeeper. At least, none of the gossips around the Four Square Café had mentioned anyone going to work for Gray in that capacity.

  “No, bu
t I intend to do more soon.”

  The gallery owner smiled. “If you’ll pull around back, I’ll have this loaded for you.”

  “Thank you,” Gray said, taking Amy’s arm and escorting her to the door. “Is there anything else you’d like to look at while we’re here? You mentioned Christmas shopping, and Bertrauds has a good selection of gifts.”

  Amy doubted she could afford most of the items in the small shops along this street. Until the clinic adjusted to a high volume of patients, she was taking a cut in pay—not that she would ever mention that detail to Gray. Practicing medicine in Ranger Springs had never been about money. Just being with her dad was reward enough, she reminded herself.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather stop by the mall on our way back to Ranger Springs. I’m familiar with the stores, and I have a list of the last few presents I need.”

  “Of course. I’m yours for the day,” he said with a smile.

  For the day. That’s what they’d decided, after all. To take this pretend relationship one day at a time. To avoid long-term plans. She had to keep reminding herself of their agreement, especially on days like this, when they appeared to be a couple out shopping for artwork for their home and Christmas presents for their friends.

  While the art was loaded into the trunk of the Lexus, Amy sat in the passenger seat and breathed in the familiar scents. She was reminded of their first date, and those since, when Gray had been so…gentlemanly. Since their agreement, he’d kept his word, avoiding situations where either one of them might be tempted. No more stolen kisses. No more lingering looks that melted her restraint. She appreciated his efforts, but sometimes, she wished—

  The shrill buzz of her beeper jolted her back to reality. She fished the small device out of her purse. The clinic’s number was followed by an emergency notification. Helen Kaminsky’s grandson, Matthew, needed an emergency appendectomy.