Gillian addressed the curious looks at the table by expanding on Maisy’s explanation. “Lindsay is a repeat customer of Bliss. She’s called three times since Christmas trying to convince me to coordinate her April wedding. Erica has called twice.”
“Why is Erica calling you?” Jeremy asked.
Gillian shrugged. “Doing her bridesmaid duty, I imagine.”
“I thought you sold wedding dresses,” Tucker said. “You coordinate weddings too?”
“Not yet, but I will soon. Jeremy and I are starting a new event planning business.”
“Oh, really?” Tucker said. “A new business, hmm? From what I understand, there’s a lot of that going around in Redemption. Congratulations.”
“It’s Gillian’s baby,” Jeremy snapped. “I have my hands full at the bank.”
Gillian stiffened at the comment. Deliberately, she returned her fork to her plate and folded her hands in her lap. The jitters inside her intensified to big, black doubts she could no longer deny. It was a very good thing their premarital counseling at church began next week. She and Jeremy needed another heart-to-heart, honest talk.
“The Texas Hill Country has become a popular place to hold destination weddings, hasn’t it?” Ben asked.
Jackson nodded. “They’re becoming a big part of our business at the inn, that’s for sure.”
Tucker took a bite of dessert and casually observed, “So, to be an event planner, I guess you must be organized. And of course—” He paused, and a teasing glint entered his caramel-colored eyes as he licked the last bit of chocolate off the fork and then added, “—always prepared.”
Very funny, Gillian told him with her eyes.
He ever so subtly winked at her.
Unaware of the underplay, Maisy said, “You should see her notebook for her wedding. Gillian has prepared for every possibility and planned accordingly.”
“There’s no room for errors in weddings,” Caroline observed.
“Tell me about it,” Ben said, lamenting. “It’s called divorce.”
“Speaking of divorce,” Maisy said, a note of warning in her voice. “Bridezilla incoming. I’d guess you have ten seconds to make an escape.”
“Oh, joy.”
Jeremy took Gillian’s hand and shot to his feet, pulling her up with him. “We won’t allow them to ruin what’s been a nice evening up until now. Let’s go take a walk.”
Gillian didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her bag and hurried alongside Jeremy toward the exit. But as they stepped out into the chilly night air and moved far enough away that they were safe from interruptions, she pulled her hand free from his and halted. “Why did you say that about Blissful Events being my baby? We’re going to be equal partners. That’s why we decided to wait until after our wedding to file the paperwork.”
“You decided that. I didn’t.”
With a quick intake of breath, Gillian took a physical step back from her fiancé. “What is wrong with you, Jeremy? You’ve been cranky for weeks now.”
Jeremy closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Everything will be fine. It’s prewedding jitters, that’s all. I’m sorry.”
“I think it’s more than just jitters.” For both of us.
He dismissed the comment with a shake of his head, then glanced back toward the door of the saloon. “Look, I’m just in a terrible mood. I don’t like that those two women have been pestering you. I’ll go talk to them. Like you said at dinner, we are partners. This is something I can do.”
“Forget them. It’s New Year’s Eve. Let’s not bring business into our holiday celebration any further. Let’s dance and enjoy ourselves. This is a night to celebrate new beginnings.”
“Which is why we shouldn’t drag old baggage into the New Year,” he grumbled. “Go on into the hall. I’ll catch up with you in a little while after I’ve shaken off this … funk.”
He turned and left her in the middle of the barren rose garden. In that moment, a gust of cold wind sent brittle leaves skittering across the path, and Gillian felt a chill through to her marrow.
* * *
Tucker was having an excellent time at his first New Year’s Eve party as a single, civilian man. First and foremost, he was so damned happy for Jackson. He’d made his dream happen. The Last Chance Hall was packed to the rafters, and music and laughter filled the air. By all appearances, he’d successfully launched those kids from Abilene tonight, which was precisely the sort of thing he wanted to do when he envisioned reopening the hall.
The man himself had just finished a set to wild applause, and now he was busy scootin’ up the sawdust with his ladylove. Jackson had been through more than his share of dark days in the past few years, but as the New Year began, the sun definitely was shining in his sky.
The example Jackson set stirred Tucker’s reenergized competitive spirit and gave him hope for some sunshine for himself. His and Jackson’s skies were different, to be sure. Tucker hadn’t lived with gray, stormy days for years on end like his cousin had during his lousy marriage. But sometimes, all it took was one big old dark thunderstorm to throw off a tornado and blow a path of destruction. For the past few months, Tucker had been in after-the-F-5 cleanup mode. Now that he’d cleared away the brush and rubble, Tucker was ready to shift into the rebuilding phase.
A new place, new job, new life. And, with any luck, new people.
He wanted a little Haley of his own to take fishing and hiking and camping beneath the star-filled Texas sky.
Scanning the hall and sipping a longneck, Tucker noticed Gillian twirling in the arms of a man who likely was family, based on the resemblance the two shared. Regret filled him. Damn, but that woman did it for him. Witty, intelligent, loyal, and loving. Sexy as sin. Too bad the tornado hadn’t swept through his life sooner and dropped him into Gillian’s path. He’d have done everything in his power to beat Jeremy to the punch and win the beauty’s heart.
Jackson sidled up beside Tucker, interrupting his musings. “How come you’re not out there dancing, Fred?”
“Fred Astaire?”
“You’re as smooth on the dance floor as you are on the golf course.”
“True. But I can play golf alone.”
“Want me to request a line dance?”
Tucker gave his cousin a chiding look. It was an old argument of theirs. Tucker was old-fashioned when it came to dancing. In his opinion, dancing needed a partner, a man needed a woman to hold and swirl and twirl. “Thanks, but no. I’m content hanging on the corral fence for now.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes and gave Tucker a speculative look. “Are we talking about more than two-steppin’ here?”
“Yes. Yes, I think we are. I think I’m close to being ready, though.” Without conscious thought, Tucker searched the crowd circling the dance floor for Gillian. He spotted her just as the song ended and applause broke out. As her dance partner led her toward the table where Maisy and her date sat, Tucker asked his cousin, “Did you ever use one of those online dating services?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I guess not, you being a celebrity and all. It’s just that, well, I’m not exactly sure how one goes about dating while living in a small town. There is no anonymity. Everybody knows everybody else’s business.”