On Lone Star Trail (14 page)

Gillian had spent several hours online learning what services other senior centers offered. While some of them involved more equipment than she envisioned, at least initially, she liked the idea of courses like tai chi that could help seniors avoid falls.

“How about dances?” Sam Dexter waggled an eyebrow as if the thought intrigued him.

“Ballroom or modern?” Since she suspected Sam had already made up his mind, Gillian decided to answer his question with one of her own.

“Both.”

It was what she'd expected. He was testing her. She shrugged. “I don't see why not, if there's interest.”

Sam studied her for a moment before saying, “Okay. You can have the building. Now, about the rent. How does a dollar a month sound?”

Gillian stared at the man, not certain he was serious. But there was nothing in his expression to indicate that he was joking. “That sounds incredibly generous.”

He gave his daughter a fond look. “Let's see what she says after she's seen the inside.” Turning back to Gillian, Sam said, “I don't think it needs any structural work, but it sure does need paint.”

It did indeed. Cobwebs, dirt, and dingy paint made the former showroom unappealing, but the building had what Gillian had heard described as good bones. The large front room would accommodate twenty or thirty people, which she suspected would be more than adequate. The back of the store boasted a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom, which was, to Gillian's delighted amazement, ADA compliant.

“So, what do you think?”

Gillian smiled at Sam. “It's perfect.”

I
t was a good thing no one could hear her, Gillian reflected as she sang along with the radio on her drive back to Rainbow's End. Her vocal instructors had said her musical talents did not extend to singing, but the way she felt practically demanded a song. How else could she express her pleasure that the senior center project was turning out to be so simple and so much fun?

Gillian had never done anything like this. A year ago if she'd been asked if she possessed an entrepreneurial spirit and organizational talents, she would have shaken her head. Now she felt as if she had at least a smidgen of both. It was a heady feeling, but even that could not compare to the feeling that helping the seniors was what she was meant to be doing.

Though she hadn't been able to meet with the building inspector who would have to approve the plans for the center, her assistant had told Gillian there should be no problem. As Gillian had expected, the town council was happy to have one less empty store, and as it turned out, Sam Dexter was equally happy to have his second building occupied.

There would be work involved in getting the center ready. Even though the changes she wanted to make were strictly cos
metic, Gillian did not underestimate the effort involved. And, as much as she hated to disappoint Marisa, she was going to have to work fewer hours at the bookstore if she was going to get the center running before she left Dupree.

The phone was ringing as she entered her cabin. Gillian sprinted to the kitchen, not wanting the call to go to voice mail.

“Gillian?”

There was no mistaking that voice. Gillian's face broke out in a smile. “Hi, Mike.” It was vanity, pure feminine vanity, but Gillian couldn't help being flattered that the area's most eligible bachelor hadn't forgotten her. This was the perfect ending to an already good day.

“I'm glad I caught you.” She could hear the smile in his voice, a smile that matched hers. “I'm sorry it's taken me so long to call, but this week has been beyond busy. I've had back-to-back meetings every day and then meetings with my family that lasted way too long.” His smile turned into a soft chuckle. “I didn't think you'd appreciate a call at 3:00 a.m.”

“You're right about that. I need my beauty sleep, especially now that I'm once again a working woman.”

“What?”

“I'm working at Hill Country Pages, the local bookstore. It's only part time, but it's been fun.”

“I want to hear all about this new job of yours when I see you,” Mike said. “That's why I'm calling. I know it's short notice, but I've managed to clear my calendar and I wondered if you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow night. I can guarantee a good table at Strawberry Chantilly.”

“Because your family owns it?” Gillian thought that was the name of the upscale restaurant the Tarkett family operated in Blytheville.

“Precisely. I may have been a failure as a waiter and busboy, but I know how to reserve a table.” Before Gillian could tell him she doubted he'd been a failure, Mike continued,
“The food is actually very good. Not that I'm prejudiced or anything.”

“There's nothing wrong with being prejudiced, especially when the critics agree. And, unlike you, I don't have an overscheduled calendar.”

Tomorrow night was free except for going to Firefly Valley with TJ. Though Gillian hated to miss that, she wasn't about to refuse Mike's invitation. She had no doubt that she'd enjoy the dinner, but more importantly, time with Mike might dislodge the memory of the dream she'd had about TJ.

Even when she'd been helping customers in the bookstore and working on plans for the senior center, the thought of that almost-kiss had lingered in the back of her brain, tantalizing her with the possibilities. That was ridiculous. It wasn't as if they had a future together, at least not one that included romance. The expression in TJ's eyes when he'd spoken of Deb was the same one her father had when he spoke of his wife. Like Dad, TJ was a one-woman man. He and the teens could get along without her for one night.

“Yes, Mike, I'd like to have dinner with you.”

TJ hadn't thought it possible, but Gillian looked more beautiful than ever tonight. Her cheeks were flushed with what appeared to be pleasure, and her eyes had turned a deeper green than usual.

“Did something special happen today?” he asked as he handed the platter of chicken cutlets to her. The chicken was delicious, but in TJ's opinion, the side dishes outshone the main course. He particularly enjoyed the casserole of onions, tomatoes, and green beans Carmen served with the chicken.

“As a matter of fact, it was a special day,” Gillian told him. “I'm curious. What made you ask?”

“Because you look happier than I've ever seen you.” More beautiful too, but he wasn't going to say that. If he did, she might get the wrong idea. She might think he was interested in her romantically when he wasn't.

Admittedly, his thoughts turned to Gillian far more often than he'd expected, and there were times when he even pictured the two of them on his bike, heading for some unknown destination. If that wasn't ridiculous, TJ didn't know what was. He wasn't the man to take her anywhere. He'd given his heart to Deb, leaving nothing for Gillian or any other woman.

“So, what happened?” he asked, deliberately pushing the thought of Gillian on his bike to the dark recesses of his brain.

“Remember the women I told you about who came into the store on Monday?”

“Linda and Silver?”

“Yes, although it turns out that Silver's name is Sheila. I kept thinking about what they'd said about how there's nothing for seniors to do in Dupree and wondering how I could help them.”

TJ wasn't surprised. Gillian was one of the most giving people he knew.

“And you figured out a way.”

“I did.” She spooned a piece of molded salad onto her plate. “The bottom line is, I'm going to try to organize a senior center.”

TJ thought back to the day he'd walked around Dupree, snapping pictures. Though the town had the usual amenities, there was nothing specific for seniors. Leave it to Gillian to recognize the need and try to fill it. “That's a great idea.”

The flush in her cheeks deepened as she glanced around the table, as if wondering whether anyone was listening to them. Though the round tables lent themselves to group discussions, tonight the other guests were involved in what appeared to be their own private conversations.

“You really think so?” The incredulity in Gillian's voice made
it seem like she was unaccustomed to praise. That couldn't be the case. This was the woman who used to receive standing ovations.

“I know so. Why should kids be the only ones with planned activities? So, what have you done so far?”

When Gillian finished her explanation, TJ let out a soft whistle. She must have been a human dynamo to accomplish that much. “All that in one day? You're incredible.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn't say that, but I am excited. I can't remember the last time I felt this energized. Right now, everything about the project seems wonderful.” A shrug accompanied her next sentence. “I may change my mind when I start the cleanup, but at this particular moment, I can't wait to get started. Bring on the buckets, soap, and sponges.”

That sounded like Gillian, charging forward, determined to be the first to cross the finish line. But this wasn't a solo sport. Surely she knew that. Even though she'd played many piano solos, there were just as many times when she'd had a symphony orchestra accompanying her.

“You don't plan to do it all yourself, do you?” Though none of the stores in Dupree was huge, cleaning one was still a massive undertaking.

Gillian nodded, as if what she had in mind was trivial. She took a sip of iced tea, then reached for a biscuit as she said, “Kate and Marisa would help if they could, but they have too many other things going on.”

And she hadn't thought beyond her girlfriends. Regret and something else—perhaps wounded pride—stabbed TJ as he realized that Gillian hadn't even considered asking him for help.

“Gillian, Gillian, Gillian.” When her eyes widened at his slightly scolding tone, TJ continued. “There's a whole section of the workforce you haven't considered.”

“And who would that be, besides you?”

So she had thought of him. Though his pride no longer felt as if it had been trampled, TJ wondered why she hadn't asked.
Perhaps he'd been mistaken. Perhaps she'd wanted his assistance but hadn't wanted to presume. Perhaps the reason she was telling him about the project was that she hoped he'd volunteer.

“Of course I'll help,” he told her, “but if you're going to finish this in a reasonable amount of time, you need more resources. The Firefly Valley kids could make short work of this.”

In response to Gillian's skeptical look, TJ said, “Trust me. They'll come. We'll call it a work party and promise them all the pizza they can eat. I'm sure some will volunteer right away, and once the leaders do, the rest will fall in line.” TJ pictured Shane swaggering around the campfire, ordering his minions to sign on the dotted line.

Recalling the work plans the principal of his last school had drafted when the school decided to adopt a section of highway and enlisted the students' help in keeping it free of litter, TJ said, “We'll need to get the parents' permission, but that shouldn't be too hard. If you have access to a computer, we can have permission forms ready to take tonight. That gives you tomorrow to assemble all the supplies so we can work on Saturday.”

“This Saturday?” Gillian's eyes lit with excitement. Though she'd been prepared to do the work alone, she appeared surprised by the idea that they could begin so quickly.

“Why not? It'll be fun.”

As she laughed and clinked her glass to his in a toast to their future success, TJ realized it wasn't only Gillian who was enthusiastic about the project. It must be contagious.

G
illian glanced at her watch. She'd awakened earlier than normal this morning, perhaps because she was still excited about the plans for the senior center, and even after a leisurely breakfast, she had a few minutes before she had to leave for her shift at the bookstore. That should give her enough time to meet Brianna's mother and have her sign the permission slip. The other kids' parents had been home last night and had joined the group around the campfire long enough to hear what was planned and to grant their children permission to participate.

Gillian had heard several of them say they thought it was a good idea that their kids would be helping others, especially since they'd been given so much. When their apartment complex had burned, complete strangers had offered the former apartment dwellers the RVs free of charge for as long as they needed them. As if that weren't enough, Marisa and her husband were equipping the new apartments with the latest in appliances and state-of-the-art smoke detectors, meaning that the Firefly Valley residents' new homes would be more modern and safer than the old ones.

The adults were approving, the teens excited. Only Brianna
was unhappy. Her mother had been at work last night, and Brianna had admitted she wasn't certain she would have signed her permission slip, even if she'd been home.

“She doesn't want me to do anything,” Brianna groused.

Though Gillian suspected that might be an exaggeration, she couldn't be certain without meeting Brianna's mother. And so here she was, approaching Firefly Valley, paperwork in hand.

When he'd first mentioned it, Gillian had wondered at TJ's insistence that the parents come in person to sign the release forms. When she had been in school, the teachers had simply sent the forms home, and she'd returned them the next day.

“Times have changed,” TJ had said, pointing out that he didn't recognize all the teens' signatures and wouldn't know if they'd forged the documents. “There are a lot more lawsuits these days, so we need to be extra careful,” he'd told Gillian, and she'd agreed. As it was, since the senior center wouldn't have liability insurance in effect for a few more days, Greg had called his agent and gotten a rider added to the Rainbow's End policy for tomorrow's event. He'd also volunteered to pay the center's utility bills for the first six months. By then, Gillian expected enough people would have joined that their monthly dues would cover basic expenses. She had already established a fee schedule for meals and special classes but, in what Kate called a loss leader, had decided not to charge a membership fee this first month.

Gillian knocked on the door to Brianna's trailer.

“Good morning,” a woman said as she opened the door. “What can I do for you?”

Gillian tried to mask her surprise. The woman had the same coloring, the same features, the same Barbie doll figure as Brianna, but she was much younger than Gillian had expected. Gillian doubted Brianna's mother was much older than Gillian herself.

“Good morning, Mrs. Carter.”

The woman who looked so much like her daughter shook her
head. “Just call me Natalie, but for the record, it's Ms. Carter. Brianna's father split before she was born and before he could put a ring on my finger.”

Unsure what response Natalie expected, Gillian settled for giving her a noncommittal nod and saying, “I'm Gillian. Gillian Hodge.” When the woman's eyes registered familiarity with her name, Gillian continued. “I don't know whether Brianna told you about it, but some of the kids are going to help get the new senior center building ready. I came to see if you'd allow Brianna to be part of the work party. It's all day tomorrow.”

Natalie tugged the hem of her T-shirt, perhaps to cover the small rip in her shorts. The clothing, though obviously not new, was far more modest than the outfits Brianna had worn the first few times Gillian had seen her.

“She told me about it. In fact, it was all she could talk about at breakfast.” Giving Gillian a sharply appraising look, Natalie narrowed her eyes. “Tell me, Gillian. Will there be adult supervision?”

“Of course. I'll be there, and so will TJ Benjamin. He's the one who's been running the campfires here every night.”

Natalie nodded, confirming her familiarity with both TJ's name and the nightly entertainment.

“I wouldn't be surprised if some of the other teachers come tomorrow, but even if they don't, TJ and I will serve as chaperones, if that's what you're worried about.”

“It is,” Natalie admitted. “I'm sure you know Brianna fancies herself in love with Todd.”

It was Gillian's turn to nod. “He seems like a good guy. Pretty sensible.”

“I agree that he's basically what my mother would have called a straight arrow. The problem is, he and Brianna are only fifteen, and at that age, being sensible isn't what kids do.” Natalie lowered her eyes and appeared to be examining her pedicure. “I should know. I was fifteen when I had Brianna.”

Gillian tried not to let her surprise show. She'd been correct in assuming that Natalie was close to her age. For her part, Gillian could not imagine being a mother at fifteen. How had Natalie done it when she was little more than a child herself?

“I don't want Brianna to make the same mistakes I did,” Natalie said, her voice fierce. “My daughter deserves a better life than mine.”

The intensity of the woman's emotion touched chords deep inside Gillian. Was this how her mother had felt when George was born? Had she had the same depth of maternal love for Gillian, even as her own life had slipped away? Now was not the time to think about the mother she had never known. Gillian was here to convince Natalie to sign the permission slip.

“I understand your concerns.” Gillian wanted to reassure this woman whose life had been so different from her own. Gillian had had the financial, social, and educational advantages that had been denied to Natalie, and yet Natalie had accomplished far more than Gillian had, for she was raising a daughter, lavishing her with maternal love.

Brushing aside those thoughts, she smiled at Natalie. “I can't promise to keep them apart, but I can promise that if you let her come, Brianna and Todd will spend tomorrow working.”

Natalie stared at Gillian for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I trust you.”

TJ wasn't certain who was more anxious for school to end: the students or himself. In addition to the usual TGIF syndrome with its predictably reduced attention spans, the kids were excited about tomorrow's work party. This was probably the first time those who lived in Firefly Valley were involved in something that wasn't being offered to the others, and they were taking full advantage of feeling special. To TJ's amusement, the teens
were strutting around as if being asked to sweep and mop floors and wash windows and walls was an adventure.

TJ had every intention of making sure that it was. He'd already decided to harness the kids' competitive spirit and planned to divide them into two teams. They'd be awarded points for how quickly and completely they accomplished each task, with the winning team receiving a prize.

Though he had a few ideas, TJ hadn't decided what the prize would be. Somehow it didn't seem right to make that decision without Gillian. It was, after all, her project, and though he had more experience with teenagers in general, she had developed a good rapport with this particular group. She might have ideas that had not occurred to him.

The work party wasn't the only reason TJ was looking forward to the final bell of the day. In fact, it wasn't even the most important reason. He felt adrenaline surge each time he thought of what was waiting for him at Rainbow's End. Eric had told him his bike would be finished by midafternoon.

All day long, he'd pictured himself taking it for a spin, riding up Ranger Hill and straight down Lone Star Trail to the highway. Once there, he'd see which direction beckoned him. The sun and wind in his face, the roar of the engine in his ears—there was nothing like being on a bike. And this time he wouldn't be alone. Gillian would be sitting behind him. It would be the perfect ending to the day.

As she left the bookstore and headed for her car, Gillian glanced at her phone. Though she hadn't expected it, she had email. Most of her friends preferred to text, but since she was frequently out of cell range, the number of texts had declined substantially since she'd come to Rainbow's End. Maybe a friend had decided to email her.

Gillian tapped the icon and smiled. This was better than she'd expected. Dad had responded to her note about the senior center. Eagerly, she opened the message, her smile fading as she read.
“The senior center is a bad idea. How
will you find a husband if you spend all your
time with old people? Write a check and let someone
else do the work.”

No greeting, no closing, nothing but disapproval.

Gillian cringed, feeling the way she had the one time she had come in second in a competition. Dad had made no secret of his disappointment, telling her she could do better. And she had.

A second later, anger replaced her sorrow. Would she never learn? Dad was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and right now he wanted Gillian to marry. She should have anticipated his reaction and simply not told him what she was doing. She had made a mistake, but it was one she would not repeat.

She was back. Though he hadn't wanted to admit how impatient he'd been, TJ had glanced at his watch what felt like a million times during the last half hour. When he'd returned from school and had inspected the bike, he'd taken a quick spin around the resort, just to verify that the engine sounded as good as Eric claimed it did. The man might not be a miracle worker, but he came pretty close. Not only was it impossible to tell that the bike had been crashed, but it sounded better than it ever had, at least while TJ had owned it.

His fingers itched to touch the throttle, his feet to feel the smooth shifting as he climbed hills, then swooped down the other side. And he'd do that, once Gillian arrived. Though the wait seemed endless, it was over now. She had arrived.