Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee (19 page)

“I want to be the first to officially dub you knights of the Round Table of Camelot.” Jackson gave the fellows a nod. “And here are your first instructions.”

He went on to give them the qualifications necessary to rise above every task…even construction. From there, he shared his heart about his love for theater and the impact it could have on the community. Then he veered and began to talk about his faith, honing in on the call God had placed not only on his life, but on the lives of every man in Camelot.

The newly dubbed knights hung on his every word. In fact, Pete looked downright enraptured. So did Chuck Manly. And as Jackson finished laying out their plan for the new program, the men drew close, stacked hands, and gave a cheer. This was followed by a round of backslapping. Steve watched it all, half-mesmerized and half-nauseated. For, while he wanted to join the rousing chorus of voices, he still couldn’t help but wonder if Jackson Brenner’s presence would serve as more of a distraction to one fair maiden in the kingdom.

No doubt about it—Lancelot had definitely taken the locals by storm. Now if only Steve could figure out how to stop that storm before it swept them all away.

I just love the hours of the theatre; I love the way it operates. I always say that when you’re doing a play
it’s like getting a shot of B-12, and when you do television for a long series you need a shot of B-12.

G
AVIN
M
ACLEOD

“Steve, you’re the mayor.”

Steve winced as he heard Eula Mae’s voice. He turned away from the window, where the early morning sun peeked through the blinds and sent ribbons of sunlight across the room. “Yes, I am.”

She took a couple of steps in his direction, closed the blinds with a
clack,
then crossed her arms and stared him down. “Don’t you think you should wear a suit every now and again?”

“Why?” He dropped into the chair behind his desk, wondering what had brought this on. Not that he wasn’t used to it. He got this speech from Eula Mae at least once a month.

“Well, you’re representing our fair town, and we want to put our best foot forward, especially with those government officials chasing us like dogs after a rabbit. You don’t want to end up on the end of someone’s keychain.”

“Um, okay.”

“And since we’re talking about canines, can I ask why you look so scruffy all the time?”

“Scruffy?” Steve ran his palm across his chin, feeling the stubble. “Hmm. Well, you know how it is, Eula Mae. I shave, but my five-o’clock shadow shows up at noon. Besides, it’s the trend to be a little scruffy-looking these days. Some people like it.”

“Even if you’re the mayor?” The elderly woman squared her shoulders and gave Steve a sideways glance. “I tell you, if I was the mayor, I wouldn’t let my hair get long like that. And I’d drive to Knoxville and buy a suit.”

“I own a suit. I wore it to Maggie Sampson’s funeral, remember?”

“I wouldn’t wear those sandals, either,” Eula Mae said, pointing at his feet. “They’re not professional. Don’t you own any dress shoes? Or boots?”

“Jesus wore sandals,” he countered.

She responded with a glare.

“Is there anything about me you wouldn’t change?” Steve’s patience took a dive.

“Hmm.” She looked him over. “Well, I probably wouldn’t change the hair color. It’s a nice shade of brunette. But when that fella from the county comes prancin’ in here, he needs to see that we’re taking our jobs seriously.”

“I do take my job seriously.” Steve raked his fingers through his hair, wondering if, indeed, it did need a trim before the county official returned for round two of the interrogation.

“Well, then, stop showing up to work in blue jeans,” she said. “And see if you can find a real dress shirt to put on sometime.” She took the time to remind him about how men used to dress back in her day. Finally she paused and gazed at him, as if awaiting a response.

Steve narrowed his gaze. “There are some things I just don’t understand about you, Eula Mae. You claim to hate government officials, but you seem to adore me. When you’re not slicing and dicing me, I mean. I would think you’d be happy that I don’t look like the rest of the pack. I’m an individual.”

“Hmm.” She continued to stare but said nothing.

Steve paused, deep in thought. Something about her expression didn’t ring true. He began to put two and two together. “I’m starting to think you have something else up your sleeve.”

“Oh?” Her gaze shifted to the window.

“It’s not the county officials you want me to impress. Am I right?”

She plopped down into a chair across from him and stared him down. “And if I admit you’re right, then what? Will you think I’m meddling in your personal life?”

“Eula Mae, I don’t know what I’d do if you
stopped
meddling. So go right on and tell me. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“I think you’re nervous.”

“About this conversation?” he asked. “Maybe. A little.”

“No. And not about the play, either. Or that theater you’re building. You’re a nervous wreck that Jackson Brenner has swept into town to save the day. And I think a grown man should be able to admit when he’s nervous.”

Ah.
“Well, nothing like cutting to the chase.”

“I knew it.” She slapped his desk with her open palm. “You’re jealous of him. Admit it.”

Steve shrugged but didn’t respond.
Jealous
wasn’t exactly the word he would have used.
Frustrated
was more like it.

“I’ll have to admit, he’s a handsome guy.” Eula Mae sighed. “Those eyes of his could see right down into a woman’s soul. And those broad shoulders! Who has shoulders like that? I haven’t seen such a sturdy fellow since Jack LaLanne.” She paused and seemed to drift off in her thoughts. A curious smile brightened her face as the conversation began again. “And have you seen his hair? I usually don’t like highlights on a man—you know how I am about such things—but they really work for him.”

“If this is supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working.” Steve turned and gave Eula Mae a stern look that he hoped she would not ignore.

“Right.” She grinned. “I forgot I was supposed to be making you feel better. Got distracted.”

“Obviously.” Steve cleared his throat.

“So what are you afraid of? Just spit it out.”

He did his best to stifle the groan that threatened to erupt. “It might sound weird, but I’m concerned that this whole Camelot thing is going to turn out to be strangely prophetic.”

“Prophetic?” Eula Mae’s brow wrinkled. “Ah. Meaning that Lancelot will eventually steal Arthur’s woman?”

“Yeah.” Steve rose and walked to the window. He separated a couple of the blinds, and a sliver of sunlight came jutting through. Steve squinted through the tiny slit and glanced out at the parking lot. He watched as Woody’s Mustang buzzed by, going way too fast.

“Just because it happens like that in the musical doesn’t mean it’s going to happen in real life,” she said. “Your story is going to have a different ending.”

“How do you know that?” He turned from the window, wishing he’d never opened up in the first place.
Is it getting hot in here?
“We don’t have any way to predict the future. And even if we could, I wouldn’t want to know.”

“I can feel it.” She pointed to her heart. “Besides, even though Jackson is rugged and handsome and really, really buff doesn’t mean that Amy has noticed any of that.”

Steve groaned. “Again, I have to ask…is this supposed to be making me feel better?”

“Hey, can I help it if the guy is captivating? You have to take that up with God. He’s the one who created him. He’s also the one who gave Jackson those great cheekbones and bright white smile.”

“I’m sure he paid to have his teeth whitened,” Steve said. “For that matter, I think his tan is fake too. I’ve never really seen that skin color before, have you?”

“Whatever.” Eula Mae grinned. “The point is, there are always going to be beautiful people in the world, and we can’t help looking at them. But in the end, most are just a distraction.”

“Are you saying that Amy’s distracted by him but not really interested?”

“Well, she’d have to be a fool not to be interested.” Eula Mae giggled. “I mean, would you not be interested if Miss America walked in and took a fancy to you?”

“I’d like to think I’d turn my head and look the other way.”

“Think again.” Eula Mae chuckled. “As I said, we can’t help staring at those who are physically appealing. And man, is Jackson physically appealing.” She seemed to drift away for a moment but shook her head and came back to the conversation. “But remember, Steve, real beauty comes from the inside. Amy sees that in you. We all do.” She paused and gave him a motherly smile. “And just for the record, you’re not too shabby-looking either. Except for that ridiculous stubble on your face and that shaggy hair.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“No, really.” She nodded. “You’re a handsome guy, Steve. If you don’t believe me, just ask Gwen.”

“Ugh.” He sighed. “That’s not exactly the person I’m trying to attract.”

“I know, but it just proves my point. She finds you extremely handsome. I’ve heard all about it.”

“She does?”

“Sure.”

Steve shook his head, uncomfortable at the very idea. “She’s pretty but definitely not the kind of girl I’m looking for. I like a more natural girl, not one who spends hours every morning plastering on the makeup and spraying her hair.”

“So I guess Blossom’s out of the question then.” Eula Mae laughed and slapped her knee. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. That girl goes through a bottle of hair spray a day. And Lucy Cramden is pretty heavy-handed with the Mary Kay. Not that she’s your type anyway.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m sure that dozens of woman in Camelot are beautiful, but the only gorgeous woman I’ve ever known is…“ He sighed.

“Yep. I’m a beauty queen inside and out!” Eula Mae laughed. “Can’t help but admit it. Then again, I suppose you were really talking about Amy, not me. She is a thing of beauty, to be sure. A real Camelot princess, through and through.”

“And I can tell Jackson notices.” Steve felt his jaw tightening. “That’s the hard part. I want him to know she’s mine.”

The wrinkles between Eula’s Mae’s eyes deepened as she frowned slightly. “Does
she
know that?”

“Well, I’ve…”
Kissed her. Told her that I care about her.

“Have you told her that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Eula Mae’s gaze narrowed. “Have you told her that the stars don’t come out at night until you’ve seen her? That the sun doesn’t rise in the morning until you’ve whispered her name? Have you written her a song?”

“A song?”
Good grief.
“No.”

“Well, you’d better get busy, then. Women like to be wooed, and I have a feeling Jackson is the type to woo her. I think a nice love song would do the trick. Chances are pretty good he’s crafting the second verse of his as we speak. She can already hear his melody in her head, and that’s not a good thing. Not if you’re going to stand a chance.”

“But I’m not a songwriter.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just make something up. That’s what Woody did.” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.”

“Woody?”
No way.

Eula Mae giggled, and her wrinkly cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink. “That old fool’s been in love with me for years. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it.”

“Um, no. Sure haven’t.”

“He’s a great actor. Always has been. But he’s drawn to things of beauty.” She winked and gestured to her wrinkled face. “Do you think for a minute he’d look twice at another woman—Lucy Cramden, for instance—when he could look at this instead?”

Don’t say a word, Steve.

“I think not.” She giggled. “He’s drawn to me just like Amy and the other girls are drawn to Jackson.” Her expression shifted. “But, anyway, don’t fret. Jackson is just a handsome distraction. You’re the real deal.”

“What does that make you?” Steve asked. “A beautiful distraction to Woody?”

“No.” Eula Mae shook her head. “I’m the real deal too.” She gave him a playful wink. “And if you ever want to know how he really feels, ask him to sing a verse or two of ‘Eula Mae’s Star Song.’”

She walked out of the office humming an unfamiliar tune, and he plopped into his chair, deep in thought. As he did, several of Eula Mae’s words came rushing back at him.

“Okay,” he spoke aloud, “so Jackson Brenner is a thing of beauty.”

“Um, he is?”

Steve looked up, stunned to find Amy standing in his doorway. He flinched. “Oh, hey, I…”

She leaned against the doorjamb. “Steve, is there something need to know?”

He felt his cheeks grow warm. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Well, that’s good.” She laughed. “Had me worried for a minute there.” A smile lit the room, drawing him to his feet. “You ready to go to rehearsal?” she asked.

“With your hand in mine,” he offered, “I’m ready to fly to the moon.”

Not exactly a song…but a step in the right direction.