It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) (28 page)

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hapter
T
wenty-
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Miranda stood at the base of the announcer’s stand a few minutes before the parade was supposed to start. The park was teeming, and Main Street was already lined four-deep on both sides for the parade. And seeing as how Mrs. Wilkinson had been accommodating enough to finally produce the bylaws and prove that twenty parade entries was indeed the magic number, the mayor and Mrs. Wilkinson’s son had blocked Main Street with their cars to stop the parade from starting until the final count was in. Unfortunately, Miranda was still one entry short.

She tapped her pen against the clipboard in her hand.

She sighed. She’d failed as a leader in the community and at having her dream, because the inspectors still hadn’t given their approval, and that wasn’t a good sign. Joe said it didn’t usually take that long. And if the inspectors wanted changes to the inn before they’d let her open for business, she was out of luck and out of money.

Worst of all, she’d failed at love.

She’d finally listened to Talmadge’s messages, all of them saying he was sorry and promising he’d be back to talk to her face-to-face. Well, to heck with his promises. He’d already broken two very important ones. His track record on keeping promises already sucked, so she hadn’t answered any of his one million and one calls, texts, or messages. She had enough problems here to deal with at the moment.

A crew set up amplifiers and musical equipment inside the finished gazebo where Joe had arranged for a band to play. They worked behind a canopy that covered the gazebo from public view, so it would be a big reveal to the whole town at once.

She checked her phone to see if anyone had texted in a new entry. But no, nothing. Her heart sank.

As if on cue, Mrs. Wilkinson strutted across the park and stood in front of Miranda. Joe must’ve seen her coming because he started in their direction.

“So how many entries do you have for the parade?” Mrs. Wilkinson gave her a grand smile, knowing she’d won the war.

Miranda’s tapping got louder. “Nineteen,” she ground out.

“Still not enough,” said Mrs. Wilkinson triumphantly. “Do you want to make the announcement that the festival is canceled or should I?”

Joe walked up, his cell to his ear. “I have another entry.” He held the phone away to speak. “Just getting the word now.”

Mrs. Wilkinson’s face soured like spoiled milk.

“Who?” Miranda held her pen ready to scribble the name at the bottom of the list.

“Who should I say is entering?” Joe said to the caller. He listened, then ended the call. “Bob. He’s entering a classic car, model unspecified. He’s en route, so he said to put him last in the lineup.” Joe turned to Mrs. Wilkinson. “So I guess the show goes on. Why don’t you go find a place to stand?”

“She’s still a hussy!” Mrs. Wilkinson wagged her finger at Miranda.

“Look,” Miranda said. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you dislike me so much, but there’s enough room in this town for both of us. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you make it for me, so we might as well find a way to get along.”

Mrs. Wilkinson pursed her lips.

Miranda dug deep and tried to be the leader Bea would’ve wanted. “During the parade I plan to announce Red River’s gratitude for all you do in the community.” Miranda motioned to a roped-off area to the side of the announcer’s stand. “I’d be honored if you’d sit in the spectators’ box for our special guests.”

She waited for Mrs. Wilkinson’s answer. It took a lot of courage to forgive someone who had hurt you, but an invisible load seemed to lift from Miranda’s shoulders. Then she thought of Talmadge, and it shook her. Because she loved him, and unconditional love meant forgiving people when they made a mistake. He’d done so much to help her, and yes, it was crummy that he had lied. But he had tried to make it right. Except for the leaving and breaking promises part.

“Well,” Mrs. Wilkinson sniffed. “If you insist.”

Joe gave Miranda a respectful nod and escorted Mrs. Wilkinson over to the box.

Miranda sagged against the announcer’s stand. Now if she could just get through this day without crying into the microphone, she just might make it.

Because the one person she wanted to be here the most was absent. She drew in a deep, cleansing breath and stared up at the blue sky and the mountains, still tinged with snow at the top, but with the lush greenness of early summer foliage washing down the slopes. So perfect. So gorgeous. Like a painting, not like something you’d see in real life.

She loved this town. And she loved Talmadge. If she could forgive Mrs. Wilkinson, then why couldn’t she have found it in her heart to listen to Talmadge before he left?

The cars, trucks, motorcycles, and floats lined up and waiting as far as Miranda could see down Main Street started to honk.

“You ready to get started?” Joe said.

She nodded, climbed the stand, and put on the microphone headset.

“Um.” Her voice rang out over the crowd. Oh. Okay. That was really loud. “Welcome to this year’s Hot Rides and Cool Nights Festival.”

The crowd cheered.

When she thanked Mrs. Wilkinson a few jeers rang out, so she quickly moved on and announced the first parade entry. The quicker the parade was over, the sooner the festival could get underway, and Miranda could make a much overdue call to Seattle.

So what if Talmadge got two speeding tickets trying to get to Red River in time for the festival? When he flew into the commuter airport in Taos with Lloyd and the rental car agency didn’t have any cars left, he thought he might have to hitch a ride all the way to Red River. He finally flagged down a gangbanger with a bandana tied around his head and a tattoo down his arm that said, “Be my bitch for twenty-five to life,” and exchanged his credit card cash advance limit for the kid’s low-riding, tricked out car that bounced to the rap tune “One Minute Man.”

Whatever worked. He was back in New Mexico and on his way to the woman he couldn’t live without. Now if he could just get there before the festival started so he wouldn’t break his promise, maybe she’d listen and give him another chance.

And Rome was built in a day.

He shook off the odds of all those things happening.

He sniffed under one arm. Of course he was kind of rank now, seeing as how the car only had a
two/eighty
air conditioner—so he rolled down
two
windows and did
eighty.
Which the county sheriffs hadn’t seemed to appreciate.

A 1960-ish step-side truck with an open bed full of cow manure passed, blowing a layer of it into his window. Talmadge gagged. Lloyd hid his nose under both paws. He swiped specks of cow dung from his face.

“Come on, Lloyd. We can do this.” He reached over and gave the dog a scratch. Lloyd barked.

He couldn’t lose someone else he loved. He’d lost his parents and his grandparents while hiding behind shame and regret, which had driven him to go out and try to save the world. He couldn’t lose Miranda too. Because she
was
his world.

He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

Miranda’s face hurt from the fake smile she kept on her lips as she announced the tenth entry in the parade lineup. Standing on the podium, she had what she’d wanted for so long. Respectability in the community. At least that’s what she’d thought she wanted.

Turned out she’d been wrong. She wanted Talmadge, and this whole ordeal had taught her not to care too much about what people thought. They could take her the way she was or not at all.

Ten more to go and she could call him. She’d listened to his recorded apologies—all of them—but she had a lot of apologizing to do herself. All he’d done was try to help her. Try to love her. And she’d been so selfish that she couldn’t even accept his apology. Or the fact that he’d made a human mistake. She still didn’t like the broken promises part, but he had problems too. Problems just as big as hers back in Washington. And she hadn’t been too sympathetic to that.

What if he didn’t come back, because she hadn’t given him a reason to?

As the senior center’s van rolled forward, filled with a load of silver-haired women dressed in red hats and purple boas, Miranda smiled. Before the next float was up, she said to the crowd, “When the parade is over, folks, don’t miss out on the vendors set up here in the park.” She flipped a page on her clipboard. “Cotton Eyed Joe’s has arranged live music in the gazebo, which we’ll unveil and dedicate while you all enjoy food and spirits from our local restaurants.” She waved a hand across the rows of booths behind her.

The band of bikers dressed in leather jackets and bandanas roared down Main Street, her mother and Ted in the lead. Her mom waved. So did Miranda, and a flash of wetness sprang to her eyes. Her mom had finally come through.

And check. Another person Miranda could forgive. Just like that. So much easier than she’d thought.

A few more entries rolled by, and finally Miranda could see the end of the line down Main Street. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She didn’t recognize the last car in line, the mystery entry. She squinted to see. And . . . every few minutes it . . . bounced.

Entries eighteen and nineteen rolled by, and then the last entry was up.

“Next we have . . .” She looked at her clipboard. “Bob.”

The low-riding car at the end of the line bounced again, lime green no less, and it rolled forward. A message was scrawled across the front windshield in shoe polish that said, “I love you.”

A head dipped, and she caught a glimpse of a chiseled jawline and sandy blond hair, and then the driver leaned into the passenger seat to look up at her through the window with silvery-blue eyes. And her mind blanked.

“Tal . . . Talmadge?” she whispered into the microphone.

He nodded up at her and waited.

Her brain and her heart stuttered just like her words. “
Talmadge
, what are you doing?”

His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he said. Lloyd’s head popped up, and he barked at Miranda. The thing Miranda wasn’t sure could really be called a car stopped rolling, and Talmadge got out. He was at the base of the podium in a few long strides. “I came back, because I didn’t want to break my promise. I damn near had to jump out of a plane to get here, but I’m here.”

The breath Miranda sucked in echoed through the amplifier. She blinked back tears.

He came around the back of the podium and climbed the stairs. She tried to calm her racing heart, but it only galloped harder with each step that brought him closer.

“It wasn’t just about the money.” He kept climbing. “It started that way, but then we built something together. And not just the inn or this gazebo.” He motioned behind him to the canopies and tarps. “We built
us
.” He reached the top and stood there staring at her. Looking uneasy and uncertain. And so damn sexy that she wanted to run to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried to talk to me.” And she was. “I was afraid of it being over between us.” She closed her eyes for a second, then looked up at him. “And I was afraid of it not being over, because of how much I depended on you.”