Just Let Go… (16 page)

And yet, she’d known all along. “The heart knows.”

“You love him?”

The question startled Gillian, and yet, she’d known all along. The heart knows. “I do.”

T
HREE HOURS LATER
,
Gillian was sitting across a table from Austen, hubcaps hanging from the ceiling, giant fish on the wall along with fourteen black velvet pictures of Elvis.

The atmosphere was loud and lively, the Mexican food was perfect, but the company left something to be desired—namely words.

“What’s the schedule for tomorrow?” she asked, smiling cheerfully, getting a skeptical look in return.

“Since tomorrow’s Sunday, it was tough to get on some calendars, but Pete has fifteen minutes in the afternoon, and I want to see J.C. again. J.C.’s right. We can’t just turn over the chess board. There’s a lot more to do before the press conference on Monday, of course.”

It was then that his cell rang. He glanced down, ignored it, and Gillian tried to pretend that it didn’t matter. “And what if nothing works?” Gillian asked, reaching across the vinyl width of the table, tugging at his hand to coax a smile, or anything to erase the disappointment from his face.

She felt Austen’s fingers tighten on her own. A tiny thrill. Then she saw the direction of his gaze, the reason for the finger tightening. Carolyn Carver was standing over their table, looking not too happy. Gillian didn’t know Carolyn well, but she knew this wasn’t going to be good.

“You should know better than to ignore my calls when I’m sitting across the room.” She flashed a smile in Gillian’s direction as if all was forgiven. Gillian would have trusted a rattlesnake first. There were certain similarities. “Carolyn Carver,” she continued, “I don’t believe we were formally introduced at the barbecue.” She sat in the booth next to Gillian. “Oh, and you can’t believe a word he says.”

“Gillian Wanamaker. And you’d be surprised how honest he can be.”

Carolyn gave them a glorious head-turning laugh, and Gillian knew that Carolyn turned heads wherever she went.

“What do you need, Carolyn?” Austen asked, his voice tired.

“Absolutely nothing, sugar. I just wanted to drop by and say hello, and tell you that the darling Pete Pendergast from Pecos County doesn’t want to see you tomorrow. Seems that Daddy found out you were trying to screw with his budget vote, and you know how Daddy gets when anybody gets in his way, and he called me and wanted to know what the hell you were doing. There was some shouting and some cussing and some broken glass, but then I calmed him down, and told him to call Big Ed. So Daddy got on the horn to Big Ed and Big Ed told him you were going after the legislators from Pecos County, so Daddy called Pete, and told him that if he so much as spits in your direction, they’d lose that prison that they were getting, and probably some state funds, as well. Then, just in case Pete didn’t get the message, he told Pete that he’d probably sic the environmental commission on them for good measure. Pete got the message. No meeting tomorrow, Austen. Sorry, Gillian.”

“Why are you doing this?” Austen asked.

“Sugar, I didn’t do anything. You stuck your hand in the fire. Don’t act surprised when it gets burned off. There is a way to get things done in this state, and it’s not by running roughshod over all the hard work that people have done. Nobody likes that, Austen. Not even me.” Then Carolyn shifted her full attention to Gillian, eyes glittering with triumph. “And as for you, missy, go back to that tiny backwoods town you came from. You don’t belong here. Don’t think you can waltz in with your knock-off shoes and your off-the-rack dress and expect that people are going to listen. Maybe Austen will, since he’s real polite that way, pretending so nicely.” She glanced at Austen, kissing the air in his direction. “But nobody else will.”

Having done her damage, Carolyn stood, smiled and lifted her glass. “Sugar, you two have a great evening. And don’t worry about the dinner tab. I picked it up. I figure it’s the very least I could do.”

After she was gone, there was a long quiet in the noisy bar. Austen’s face was carefully not showing anything at all. As for Gillian, this was another hurdle, another boulder to kick out of the way.

“We should go to J.C. Explain what the governor is doing, chucking his weight around like that. She’ll stand up to him, she’s got the stones to do it, and once she lobs a few grenades in his direction, we’ll get our leverage back.”

Austen dropped her hand, his eyes no longer blank, this time only sad. “Don’t you get tired?” he asked her. “Does everything have to be a war?”

“You don’t like fights very much, do you?”

“Nope.” He stared into his drink, and she wished she’d been there for him a long time ago. She wished she had stepped in, found a way out for him, found a way to get him out of that house.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up and smiled. “Not your fault.”

“We could have done something back then. We could have had Frank Hart arrested.”

“No laws against getting drunk in your own house, no laws against treating women like crap, no laws against yelling at your own son or shooting up your own land.”

“Why didn’t Tyler take you with him?”

He grinned at her in disbelief. “He was going to college, med school. He didn’t need a kid dragging him down.”

But Gillian was getting smart. “You wouldn’t let him, would you?”

“Frank wasn’t so bad. I’m tough. I needed to be tougher.”

“How did Tyler do it?”

“He wasn’t home much, neither of us were. He was at the library. I was at the garage. Avoidance. It was sort of the Hart brothers’ way.”

“Is that why you left early? Avoiding Frank or avoiding me?” She swirled her straw in the margarita with restless fingers and then focused on him because she needed to see this answer.

Austen stilled her fingers. “Not you.”

She locked her eyes on his face, willing him to trust her. “Won’t you ever tell me?”

“We had a fight. Not a big deal.” The dark eyes were casual. Too casual. She would let it pass, because it was one step further than before. Ten years ago, she would have pressed and prodded, because her pride and vanity needed to know. Now she was definitely wiser. He had hurt so much more than she ever did. He’d never whined, never complained, never asked for help from anyone, only did the best he could to survive. Her heart twisted in tight knots because she should have known. She should have helped.

“What’s going to happen with Mindy?”

Gillian stuffed a chip in her mouth and smiled. “Don’t worry about Mindy. She and Brad will be fine.”

“He’s a teacher?”

Gillian nodded, as if everything was going to be fine.

“Will he be laid off?”

She wiped her mouth with her napkin, still smiling. “I think it’s premature to be thinking those sorts of gloomy-Gus thoughts. Next week is the baby shower and what’s important is that her new kid comes out kicking like a mule, healthy and happy. That’s what’s important.”

Austen raised his mug, not looking fooled at all. “To Mindy Junior.”

Gillian clinked her glass to his. “Could be Brad Junior.”

His mouth curved, almost a smile. “To good health.”

“To good times.”

“To home,” he said, and those marvelous eyes stared at her, old and wise and, yes, sad. “You know we never danced. I promised to take to you to the prom. Let’s go dance.”

“Now? You’re sure?” she asked. He was doing this to make her happy, and her heart missed a happy beat.

He winked at her, as if all was right with the world. “Absolutely. I owe you.”

T
HE STATE CAPITOL BUILDING
was a classical dome-topped structure in Austin. It was modeled after the Capitol building in D.C., but sunset-red granite had been used rather than pristine white.

Though Gillian had been to the building before, she’d never been after hours, never had the chance to be alone in the rotunda. There was an elegant loneliness in the place, the feeling that the walls had tall-tales all their own.

With a wary eye, she surveyed the security guard at the front entrance, a grizzled old codger who was snoozing contentedly. “No one will care?”

Austen grabbed her hand and pulled her up the curving stairs. “Don’t break my heart and tell me you’re afraid.”

She couldn’t break his heart, but she liked that he said it anyway. “I bet you don’t know how to dance,” she teased. “I bet that’s why you left me before the prom, isn’t it?”

He glanced back, wiggled his brows and tugged at her hand, her feet flying up the steps to keep up with him. For a minute, for tonight, she could see back to the old Austen she knew, the Austen she had loved. The idealistic boy who still lived within the man.

At the top of the great marble staircase, he swept her into a spinning whirl, Fred-and-Ginger-style, her faux Manolos sliding and clicking on the floor until she giggled, dizzy and breathless.

He seemed so happy, so alive, so full of love, and she wondered at the cause. “Where did you learn all these moves,” she asked. When he pulled her close, his hand pressed against her waist, she could feel the life in him, the strength, the grace and the urgent heat of a very virile man.

“Politics, Gillian. You gotta learn the dance.”

There was no music, but there was a melody in her head, in her heart, and they moved around the ring of the rotunda, passing the stony-faced portrait of governors and heroes passed. Gillian smiled at the ominous scowl on Sam Houston’s face. “He doesn’t approve.”

Austen stopped, kissed her once, slow and toe-curling, making history all their own. “He’s jealous.”

“Jealous of the sheriff of a one-horse-town and a two-bit political operative?” She liked that, realized that tonight she was feeding off dreams.

“He’s jealous because you’re the prettiest sheriff this side of the Colorado.”

“Fancy words, but balderdash nonetheless.” At one point, she would have bought into the fantasy, the perfection, but right here, right now, the clear-eyed reality was better than perfection could ever be.

His eyes lingered on hers, clear-eyed, too, stealing her heart. “No one could ever hold a candle to you. They still can’t.”

The air in the gallery was thin, making her light-headed, or maybe that was the serious slant in his eyes. The feel of his big hands on her waist was dazzling, warm and secure, and Gillian struggled to breathe. “Don’t break my heart, Austen Hart,” she told him, her voice light, but it was an honest warning. Before, she had survived, they were kids, nothing more. Now, he was going to alter her life forever.

Her words stopped him, and his hands fell away, leaving her empty and bereft. “I don’t deserve it, Gillian. I never did. That’s why I left.”

“What happened that night?”

He took her hand, and they sat on the top step, and he watched her, collecting his thoughts. “Whenever I was around you, I wanted more. More of you, more of life, more of everything. Living with Frank, you learn to temper your expectations, not to want too much. The first rule of living with Frank was to stay sharp, stay focused and most of all stay under the radar. Tyler, he was always destined for these great and noble things. He had the focus, and this inner drive, like an engine that never needing tuning, the timing always running at top speed. He could tune all the crap out. I believe that must have come from our mother, but my DNA was all Frank. And I could see his same dark greediness in me. Always wanting what he couldn’t have. There were a lot of times I felt sorry for him. I didn’t want to end up like him, a man with great dreams and absolutely no way to get them. So I told myself to focus on getting by. But you messed me up bad, Gillian. You gave me those dreams and made it so real that I could taste it. The day of the prom, I had rented a tux, I had cleaned out Frank’s truck. I wanted that night to be perfect for you, and I thought I could give you that. So I was coming home from the garage, and you know, it’s happy hour somewhere in the world, so Frank was drinking, and while I was out he had found the tux. Right when I walked in the door, he started up. He started talking about you, and you know, Frank only knew one way to think about women and somehow in the conversation, the tux got trashed, and you don’t want to hear the specifics. I never wanted to tell you all this, but the story only goes downhill from there. By this time, I was fired up angry and seeing death. If I were smarter, I would have just beat up the old man and called it a day, but that seemed too good for him. I wanted death. I wanted to watch all the black sludge ooze out of him. I wanted him over.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she whispered. For so long, she had wanted to know this, but not now. He didn’t need the pain anymore.

“Don’t you think you deserve it? Don’t you think you should know me?” he asked, and she didn’t respond. She knew him better than he knew himself.

At her silence, he shrugged off her hand, as if the touch was unbearable. “I took his rifle. The prized Winchester with the variable scope. I fired. I missed. Planted a bullet in the wall behind him. At first, I think he was scared and it felt good to have him scared of me, just for once, but then he laughed and after that, I did what I always do. I ran. I stole Frank’s pickup, used my key at Zeke’s and grabbed six hundred from the safe. I knew the combination, because he trusted me, and I drove to Austin that night.”

Austen was watching her, expecting her to judge him badly, but how could she ever do that? Maybe a long time ago, she would have, but now with his haunted dark eyes staring at her Gillian felt her heart break in two.

“I can’t be with you, Gillian. I get so messed up when I’m with you, when I touch you. I see you and I dream of so many things, and it hurts. I can’t have those things. I can’t be those things.”

Yes, you can,
she wanted to argue. She, who had always ignored the obvious. So who was the bigger transgressor? “I love you,” she said softly, hearing the words echo in the empty hall.

“I know,” he answered. There was peaceful acceptance in his face, and she felt like screaming right in it.

“Will you come back to Tin Cup with me?”

“Nope.” He rubbed the back of his neck, easing away another day’s pain. “You get beat over the head enough, eventually things start to sink in. I’ve got a job with Big Ed, somebody has to keep Jack Haywood in line, and the governor’s budget is in trouble. They need me here.”