It was a perfect place to hide. The ideal place to think about lowering her guard and trusting versus letting him walk away.
She kicked off her heeled, slippery-soled sandals and climbed the ladder to the first level, then the second, and finally to the platform—where she discovered she wasn’t alone.
“Hello, dear,” Angelica said. “Did you come to share my sky?”
“Yes, if that’s all right.” What else could she say? No, I wanted to be alone so I could have a pity party cryfest all by myself? Even if she thought to be that rude, she knew better than to say something like that to Angelica. The Fallen Angel innkeeper would give her a well-deserved verbal beatdown.
It turned out Gillian didn’t have to say much of anything to get that. She’d no sooner stretched out on her back beside Angelica and begun to seek the constellations she could identify when her friend said, “What is wrong with you, girl?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I should say so. I’ve never seen a woman so durn sorry in all my life. You have happiness at your fingertips, but it appears you’re ready to throw it all away.”
Gillian came up on her elbows and asked with suspicion in her tone. “What do you know?”
“‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
“From ‘so durn sorry’ to quoting Shakespeare to me?”
“I’m diverse, and my cousin got me started down a literary path with her Hemingway quote. But here is what I know, Gillian. Allowing fear to rule your actions is like wrapping weight bands around your ankles. Thick ankles are not a good look for you. Your heart will never fly free carrying that extra load.”
“Now you sound like Celeste too,” Gillian grumbled.
“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, the old girl makes a lot of sense when she’s not making sense. Let me put this to you in Angelica fashion—you need to pull your head out of your bloomers. He’s a good man, and he loves you!”
“Tucker told you about us?” Who hasn’t he told?
“He hasn’t said a word—with his mouth, anyways. His eyes speak volumes. The fact that he’s in love with you is written all over that big, broad, beautiful body of his. I can’t believe no one else has noticed.”
“I think my mother has,” Gillian grumbled. But it sounded like Angelica didn’t know about the Las Vegas wedding either, so Tucker hadn’t blabbed to everyone. If Angelica knew, she’d darned sure say something about it.
“Of course, the same message is written all over you too.”
“It is?”
“Yep. It’s just not as clear because you’re transmitting other messages as well, so things get a bit mixed up. What is wrong with you, Gillian? What fears are the pellets in your ankle weights?”
She wasn’t going to try to deny it. She was tired of trying to hide. Tired of lying, mostly by omission, but lies were lies, and they didn’t rest well on her soul. According to Angelica and Celeste, Enchanted Canyon was where troubled souls found peace. Angelica was the closest thing to Enchanted Canyon around here at the moment. Who knows, maybe she can help me?
“It’s not fear. It’s trust. A lack of trust. In myself. How do I know these feelings are real? I came within a one-night stand of marrying a man who, only a few months later, I don’t even like, much less love. Makes one wonder if I ever loved Jeremy. Tucker doesn’t like it when I bring Jeremy into our relationship—”
“I can understand why.”
“But the man is part of me, part of who I am today. He changed me, and I’m trying to figure out who the new me is.”
“You’ve been hanging out in the self-help aisle in Caroline’s bookstore, haven’t you? Listen to me, honey-child. I’m gonna speak frank. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“That’s bull. The only way a man has the power to change you is if you cede your power to him. You didn’t do that with the eighteen-hole wonder. You won’t do it with Tucker. You had a life experience, and you think you have to make it into this big woo-woo project.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’ve been doing woo-woo from way back,” Angelica interrupted. “This ain’t it. Save yourself and Tucker and everybody else you care about from the self-discovery chase because you’re going looking for answers to something you already know.”
“I don’t know the answers! That’s the problem!”
“Sure you do. At the center of your soul, you know who you are, and what you want. You’ve allowed distrust—which is just another way to say fear—to hide that knowledge from yourself. You’re trying to peel those layers back, one at a time, when all you need to do is take a broom to ’em. Or, maybe a baseball bat. Just git ’er done, Gillian. Unbuckle those ankle weights. Because while you’re going all Magellan inside your psyche, time is passing you by. Time is your most precious resource, your most valuable asset. Use it wisely. Don’t let life pass you by.”
With that, Angelica rolled gracefully to her feet, crossed to the access hatch and ladder, and began her descent from the stargazing platform. Just before her head disappeared, she paused and offered one last piece of Angelica advice. “Life is hard. Wear a helmet. Don’t be a wuss.”
Gillian stayed in the tree house gazing up at the star-filled summer sky long into the night, thinking. Peeling away. Using a broom, a baseball bat, golf cleats, and an acronym or two.
When she saw the shooting star streaking across the heavens, the job was done. She knew who she was and what she wanted.
Forget S.U.R.V.I.V.A.L.
As of this moment, she was all about L.I.V.I.N.G.
Chapter Twenty
The wedding went off perfectly. The bride was a vision in her dream gown from Bliss Bridal Salon, and the sight of his bride marching toward him brought tears to the groom’s eyes. The flower girl all but stole the show, cute as a six-month-old puppy with a ball of yarn, as she carefully dispatched rose petals all the way up the aisle. Even River Dog the ring bearer cooperated, his most-excellent training on display as he walked beside Haley, and then took his seat at Angelica’s feet.
Tucker and Gillian survived the awkward moment when they met to walk together up the aisle as groomsman and bridesmaid. It helped that he’d knocked on her door first thing that morning and suggested they cry peace for the day and leave their personal baggage locked away. Gillian had gratefully agreed. They’d even danced together at the reception. The only tricky moment came when Gillian accidentally caught Caroline’s bouquet.
Now, they were back in Texas, and the time had come for Tucker to own up to his angels. Like it or not, he knew what he had to do.
On Monday evening, sitting at the dance hall bar and nursing a beer, he fingered the engraving on his pocket watch. To my love. He closed his eyes, returned the watch to his pocket, and pulled out his phone. He sent Gillian a text. “Can I see you sometime tomorrow? We need to talk.”
Three long minutes later, she responded. “Tomorrow works for me. I agree.”
“Your place? After work?”
This time he waited almost five minutes for her reply. “I have the afternoon off. How about I bring lunch to you—Taco Tuesday—and afterward we hike up to the cave? I would like to get the wedding dress for Bliss.”