The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley)

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The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley) Page 17

by Judy Duarte - The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley)


  “You mean an e-reader?” He tried not to chuckle.

  “Is that the same thing we can get our books on?” the pink sister asked. “After Glenda’s bookstore closed, we haven’t been able to find our favorite romance novels. And the library doesn’t stock enough.”

  “The library doesn’t have enough books?” he asked.

  “Not romance. And that’s what we love to read. Don’t you favor a good romance?”

  He certainly would, but he’d pretty much crashed and burned in the only one that had meant anything to him, although he was doing his best to get back in Megan’s good graces, even if he was starting at the bottom and working his way up. “I guess I’d better read more books.”

  “It would certainly help, although you’re a nice looking fellow with lots of money. I’d think the gals would be fighting to have a chance to date you.”

  Not the one he really wanted.

  “What’s wrong with Megan?” the Franco sister wearing blue asked. “She’s the little redhead who works here. She’d be a fine match for any man. She’s pretty and a good cook.”

  Her sister gave her a nudge with her elbow. “She’s got children, and a lot of bachelors aren’t interested in dating women with children, even if they would make a fine wife.”

  “Just for the record,” Clay said, “I am interested in Megan. And there’s not a thing wrong with her. She’s perfect. And she’d make a fine wife. She’s also a wonderful mother, and that makes her even more appealing—strange as that might sound to you or to other bachelors. And it wouldn’t bother me a bit if you spread that piece of news around town.”

  At that, the sisters giggled.

  “As for the e-reader,” Clay said, “you can also get your books on them.”

  “That’s what we hear,” the pink sister said. “But we don’t know the first thing about ’em.”

  As he went over technology basics with the Franco sisters, he realized there was a market not only for computer classes but also for affordable and simple user-friendly e-readers for folks who wanted to download books by their favorite authors, dabble in emails and search the internet but weren’t fully committed to diving into the digital age.

  When the ladies pulled out their coin purses to start counting out their quarters and carefully folded one-dollar bills, Clay didn’t wait for them to get to fifty.

  He told himself it was a businessman’s impatience and not his generosity that made him refuse their money. But he was embracing the new Brighton Valley version of Clay Jenkins, who was now wearing jeans and giving away laptops to dear old ladies for almost nothing.

  The sister in pink nudged the one in blue. “I told you he was a good man.”

  “You sure did. And now, with the money we saved, we can donate to the Brighton Valley town council so those scrooges will reinstate the fireworks.”

  Clay had forgotten that the big Fourth of July festivities would take place on Friday. The parade and festival would be followed by a fireworks show, which had always been one of his favorite summer memories when he’d worked here.

  He’d enjoyed getting lost in the crowd and blending in with the locals. Plus, he’d always been a sucker for pyrotechnic displays and booming colors in the night sky. But what had the sister in blue said about the town council not providing fireworks this year?

  “We’ve lived here all our lives and this will be the first time in more than eighty years that they haven’t had the money set aside to pay for the fireworks. It’s a shame.”

  “A real shame, sister. But maybe if enough of us donate, the town can afford a few rockets and airbombs and bangers. If not, we can have Mr. Perkins drive us over to the next county to see if we can find that firecracker stand outside of town so we can set a few off ourselves.”

  Clay had no idea how the two elderly sisters knew the terminology, but it was a little unsettling to think of them trying to set off their own illegal display.

  He bit his tongue until the ladies shuffled out of the store. Then he looked up the number for city hall and placed a call. When he told the receptionist his name, it took her only a minute to connect him to the mayor’s cell phone.

  He was finally fitting in around town and didn’t like drawing attention to himself, but he wasn’t afraid to use his status when he wanted to get something done.

  “What can I do for you Mr. Johnson...I mean Jenkins?”

  Boy, it would take some time to live that down.

  “Please, call me Clay.” Without waiting for the mayor to call him anything, he cut to the chase. “Listen, I heard there was a funding issue with the fireworks show.”

  “Well, to be honest, the town council has a tight budget this year with the way the economy is and all. They put in that new lighting at the Little League field. And they had to vote on whether to pay for new computers for the elementary computer lab or to use the money for the fireworks display. Needless to say, the students come first. I know it’s a big letdown for the townspeople, but we’re still having the summer festival and the parade. And there will be buses to take people over to Wexler to see their fireworks show.”

  Clay thought about the town of Wexler and how it had never felt like home. He didn’t like to think of them one-upping Brighton Valley with their Fourth of July festivities.

  “How much does it cost to put on a good fireworks show?”

  “Normally, the council spends about twenty thousand.”

  “Suppose an anonymous donor was willing to be a sponsor for the event? Is it too late to put the show together before this weekend?”

  “I suppose if this anonymous donor also happened to be one of the most famous anonymous computer entrepreneurs of our time and had enough anonymous connections, we could get the anonymous ball rolling anytime you say so.”

  Clay could almost see the man grinning through the phone, teasing with him as if he were a regular Brighton Valley resident and not some mega-millionaire who could buy and sell this town ten times over.

  “I’ll tell you what. Geekon will contribute fifteen thousand dollars toward the fireworks. And we’ll also donate the computers to the school.”

  “That’s very generous, Clay.”

  “I’m glad to help. Besides, I messed up with Megan Adams and I know there’s not a lot of hope for me with her. But I wouldn’t mind having her think that I do have some redeeming qualities. So if you can spread the word around town that I’m an upright guy and well-intentioned, Geekon will also throw in some tablets and printers for the school while we’re at it.”

  “I think most of the town already knows that about you, Clay. And although I’m happily married, I still won’t pretend to understand how my wife’s mind works. But I can tell you this. Women have their pride, and actions speak louder than words. So I’ll put in a good word for you, but you’re going to need to stick around and convince Megan yourself. I can tell you that my own proposal came after a bit of heartfelt groveling.”

  When the call had ended, Clay emailed Zoe to give her a heads-up on what he’d promised so she could start the ball rolling and call the mayor to find out where to send the check.

  Clay and Zoe had kept in touch daily over the past few weeks, and he’d been amazed at how well Geekon Enterprises had been running in his absence.

  He’d chosen a good team, and it was good to know that he could run the corporation from wherever he decided to put down roots.

  As he looked out over Main Street, he felt those roots taking a
firmer hold. He was really beginning to like this town, as well as the people in it—everyone from the Franco sisters to Sally at the diner to Mayor Mendez.

  Plus, now that he’d reconnected with Rick, it was nice to have a sense of belonging, maybe for the first time. And to feel as though he’d finally come home, even if it was just an apartment over the shop.

  If only he could reconcile with Megan, she and the kids would be the icing on the cake, the family he’d always longed to have.

  A familiar face passed by the glass window, and before Clay could run out onto the street, Tyler opened the door and made his way inside.

  “It’s good to see you,” Clay said.

  Tyler gave him a nod. “Hey.”

  The boy appeared a little nervous, as though he might want to tear into Clay for lying, too. And if he needed to get it off his chest, then so be it. Clay figured he owed him that much, and that he might as well make it easy on him.

  “What are you up to?” he asked.

  “Lisa has another game at the park. I just kinda missed the shop and wanted to stop by and see the computers and stuff.”

  Clay could certainly understand that. He wondered if Megan would be okay with her son talking to the last man she probably ever wanted to see again. “Does your mom know you’re here?”

  “I told her I was going for a walk. She knows I hate going to those boring sports games. So what’s up? You got any new computers in?”

  “No, not yet. But Geekon is going to donate some new ones to the computer lab at the school. And some tablets and printers, too.” Clay knew he sounded pathetic and that the boy had to know he was trying to buy himself back into his good graces.

  Tyler simply scuffed the toe of his sneaker along the worn carpet.

  Clay tried a different approach. “You know, Tyler, I’m really sorry about everything that went down between me and your mom. A lot of it is grown-up stuff, and I can’t expect you to understand. But I never meant to lie to her or to any of you about who I was.”

  “So then why did you? I would have liked you just fine if you would have told us that you were the Clay Jenkins.”

  “See, that’s thing. I didn’t want people liking me just because I was Clay Jenkins.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when you have a lot of money or a lot of power, sometimes people treat you differently and don’t always act like themselves. I just wanted people to think I was normal.”

  “I guess that makes sense. Sometimes I wish I could pretend I was someone else so people would treat me like I was normal, too.”

  “But, Tyler, you’re not normal. You’re ten times better than normal. I think you’re great. And I bet if your dad were here, he’d think you’re pretty great, too. So if you still want to find him, I’ll help you.” It killed Clay to say it, but the kid deserved to find out for himself, no matter how disastrous it could end up. And hell, maybe Tyler would be one of the lucky ones. Maybe Todd had learned to value others, especially his family....

  No, that wasn’t very likely.

  “Nah,” Tyler said. “I’m kinda over all that. I was looking at some stuff online and there was this blog that said it takes more than DNA to be a real dad. And I would rather have no dad at all then have some guy who ditches his family.”

  “I wish that when I was twenty, I knew half the stuff you know now. You are one smart kid.”

  “Smart enough that you’ll let me look at that PC on the workshop counter over there?” Tyler said, hope filling his eyes.

  “I’ll tell you what, if you can fix that old PC, I’ll buy you a jumbo cotton candy at the Fourth of July Festival.”

  Tyler smiled and stuck out his right hand. “A jumbo cotton candy and a new Geekon500 of my very own—and then you’ve got a deal.”

  * * *

  From the moment Megan and the kids had unloaded their truck and begun to set up her display table at the festival, Tyler had started scanning the crowd, and she’d known who he’d been looking for.

  Clay.

  The boy hadn’t stopped mentioning the man since they’d driven home from Lisa’s game the other night. If she had to hear another word about the new computers Clay had donated to the school or how he’d promised Tyler that he could come into Zorba’s a few times a week to help with repairs or about the new bleachers that were being erected at the community center gymnasium, she would scream.

  Well, not really. She knew Clay was a generous man. She didn’t need her son, Caroline, Sally, the mayor and even the Franco sisters singing his praises every time she turned around, which they all had. But being a generous and an upstanding citizen didn’t take away from the fact that he’d lied to her about who he was.

  Unlike Todd, whose lies had masked a selfish, deceitful man, Clay’s lies had masked a kind, generous heart.

  But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t needed to lie to her or to perpetuate it more than a few days. He could have trusted her with his secret.

  And worse, he’d seduced her while pretending to be someone else.

  Megan had no more than set up her booth when Lisa asked for permission to play on the soccer field with a group of her friends. Since Megan knew the other mother overseeing the children, she agreed.

  “Hey, Mom,” Tyler said, “I’m going with the guys to walk around and check out some of the other booths. Okay?”

  Megan looked around to see which guys Tyler was referring to and noticed a couple of boys she recognized from his summer enrichment program—one tall and overweight, the other thin and gangly like Tyler. They both looked as though they’d be more comfortable reading books and tapping away at laptops than they would be on the soccer field. And she realized that her son had finally found friends he could relate to, boys with the same interests he had.

  She probably had Clay to thank for that, as well. Not only had he provided her son with bragging rights because he’d hung out with and worked with the world-famous computer entrepreneur Clay Jenkins, but he’d also helped boost Tyler’s self-esteem.

  Clay had been great with both of her children, as well as Pancho—and the kids were crazy about him.

  Even if she were ready to forgive him, the fact remained that they were worlds apart, and that there could never be anything lasting between them.

  It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, when the kids were helping her dismantle her empty booth, that she gave up hope of seeing Clay. He clearly wasn’t coming to the festival, and Megan was surprised that the knot of anger that had been cycling in her belly was being replaced with disappointment.

  “Looks like you sold out again, Megan.”

  She recognized Don Carpenter’s voice and turned in surprise to see him and his wife, Cindy, standing there holding a blanket.

  “Hi, you two.” She smiled warmly, glad to see the couple out and about around town. “You’re both looking better and better each time I see you. How are you feeling?”

  “Great. We just got back from a trip to San Antonio. Cindy finished her chemo, and the doctors are very optimistic. And I’m back to fighting weight.” Don patted his ample belly. “In fact, my bride just told me it was high time I got back to the shop and stopped driving her crazy at home.”

  Megan laughed, but she envied the loving, caring glances that passed between the couple. That was what marriage was about. Being with someone who loved you and who would always look out for you, no matter what.

  “It’s good to hear that everything
is getting back to normal.” She didn’t come out and say it, but with Don returning to work, that meant Clay would be leaving. And the sooner he did, the quicker her broken heart would mend.

  “It’ll be better than normal,” Don said. “Thanks to Geekon Enterprises, we won’t have a single medical bill to pay—or any bills, for that matter. And the shop is now in better shape than ever.”

  “That’s wonderful.” And really, it was.

  No one deserved it more than the Carpenters, and Megan had to acknowledge that if it weren’t for Clay, things could have ended much, much worse.

  Chalk up another point for the guy. He was definitely digging his way out of that deceitful hole he’d dug for himself. Well, not completely. But it wasn’t nearly as deep as it once had been.

  “Anyway, I’m happy you were able to make it to the festival, even though I think most of the vendors are winding down and closing up shop.”

  “That’s okay,” Don said. “We didn’t come to buy anything. We came for the fireworks.”

  “That’s right.” Cindy slipped her arm through his. “We never miss them.”

  “Oh, but didn’t you guys hear? They’re not having the fireworks show this year.”

  “Actually, they weren’t going to have them.” Don lowered his voice to a whisper. “But an anonymous donor came through at the last minute, so the show is back on.”

  Lisa and Tyler, who’d just shoved the last empty crates into the back of the old farm truck Megan usually used only out on the orchard and at the farmers’ market, shouted in unison, “Yes!”

  “Can we go, Mom?” Lisa begged.

  “Please.” Tyler batted his eyes and clasped his hands.

  Megan knew exactly who the donor had been. It couldn’t have been anyone else. And it had been nice of Clay to do it, but if he wasn’t careful, he’d have every charity case in East Texas shaking him down for favors.

 

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