“A few years,” Tara filled in the blanks.
“Well, I’ve seen you on television. I never miss seeing that handsome devil you work with. But dear, I have to say, the camera just simply doesn’t do you justice.” She reached out and ran her hand along Tara’s curly side ponytail. “Just the color of your mother’s.”
“I know. Dad used to say that all the time.”
Mrs. Matheson’s eyes sparkled a little too brightly. “I do miss them. He would have made a wonderful governor. It was a pity what happened before everyone in the state got to love him as much as we did here in Miller’s Grove. Such a lovely man. And your mother … ” She sniffed and shook her head, dabbing at the corner of her eyes. “Enough of that. You really are just the loveliest thing here.”
“That she is,” a low voice whispered into her ear. Goosebumps broke out along Tara’s skin as a familiar hand slid up her arm and stopped on her shoulder. Tara pulled away from his touch.
“I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.” Mrs. Matheson forced a smile as she watched the stiff encounter in front of her. “I need to see to the rest of the guests.”
“Pleasure to see you again.” Tara inclined her head at the woman’s retreating form before she slowly turned on the spot. The crowd had drifted into the dining room, leaving the pair alone in the foyer. She turned and felt her jaw stiffen as she tried to appear unfazed by his presence. “Hello, Wyatt.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” His eyes drifted over her attire, stopping at the teardrop diamond pendant around her neck. His lips curled into a feral grin. Wyatt liked what he saw. He tilted his head to the side and gave a self-satisfied nod. His designer suit was tailored to show off every inch of the muscle he’d gained in the years he’d spent playing professional football. He flexed his arm, watching to see if she’d react to the display.
Still an ass. She didn’t need a reminder of how strong he was. “Couldn’t stay away?”
Tara took a step back and kicked herself for wearing the dress. She’d wanted to prove she belonged here again, but as stars flickered on the edge of her field of vision, she realized she was very wrong. When she answered, there was no warmth in her voice. “Trust me, I didn’t choose to come.”
“That’s right, you’re here for the news station.” He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and winked. “You’re supposed to interview me. I’ll bet I can arrange a very private place to meet.” He pointed to the winding stairwell that Tara remembered lead up to the most expensive suites the inn offered.
• • •
“You still haven’t returned my phone call.” Olive Slaggle frowned as she stared at Josh. “It’s for a good cause.”
“I’m certain it is.” Josh had done an excellent job of avoiding members of the city library restoration committee since the first one left a message at the station a week ago, but a flash of vivid blue stepping into the marble-tiled foyer caught his attention at just the wrong time.
“The Bachelor Auction is a Miller’s Grove tradition.” She smiled and clasped her gloved hands in front of her chest in anticipation. “This year’s proceeds go to restore the city library after the flood in May. The children’s department was left totally underwater.”
“I remember. I did the story.” Josh looked over Mrs. Slaggle’s shoulder into the next room. Tara stood in conversation with Mrs. Matheson, and Wyatt Miller leaned casually against the doorframe enjoying the view. As Tara ran her hand along her ponytail, Wyatt chugged the last of his drink and began to close in on the two women.
“Mr. Owens?” Mrs. Slaggle tapped Josh’s shoulder. “Are you listening to me?”
Wyatt stood close to Tara, too close for a casual friend. She knew him.
Of course she knew him. He’d learned early on when he moved to town that everyone here knew everyone else.
But something wasn’t right.
Wyatt’s grin was too cocky as he towered over Tara. God, he’d never realized just how small she was.
Wyatt reached out to put his hand on Tara’s shoulder, and she took a step away from him.
“Mr. Owens!” Mrs. Slaggle glared at him with the intensity of his elementary school librarian, likely because she was a librarian before she retired and joined the Ladies Auxiliary.
Josh turned his attention away from the interaction between Tara and Wyatt and gave Mrs. Slaggle his most charming smile. “I apologize. You were saying?”
Mrs. Slaggle didn’t look entirely convinced, but she continued with her sales pitch. “The ladies on the committee and I were saying that between Wyatt and you, we’d probably set a record with this year’s auction.”
He couldn’t see Tara’s face, but he’d become an expert in reading her body language over the past few weeks. She wasn’t just annoyed. The tension in the back of her neck and the posture she’d taken was the same as when they’d announced Wyatt’s return to town. Why did she seem threatened by him?
“Wyatt’s going to be there?” Josh glared at the man currently backing Tara into a corner of the lobby.
“Of course he is. His mother’s the chair of the auction committee.”
“Then count me in.” Josh’s jaw stiffened as Tara stood with her back to the wall, Wyatt leaning over her. The mayor and a group of his friends had entered the room, but Wyatt paid no attention he lowered his voice and pointed to a picture on the wall.
“Excuse me.” Josh patted the older woman on the shoulder and strode into the foyer. Preston Miller stood a few feet in front of him, glad-handing every resident in sight. Having his famous son return to town must’ve been an unexpected boost to the district attorney’s re-election campaign. Josh hadn’t liked the man during his earlier dealings with him. Now watching his son talking with Tara made him realize that being an ass apparently ran in the family.
“Josh!” Bradley Cleveland’s welcome echoed in the two-story foyer. The man beamed, reaching out his hand in greeting. “Miller’s Grove is becoming quite the celebrity hot spot. Before you know it, we’ll have paparazzi here.” He motioned to his companions to step closer.
“I hope not, Brad. I kind of like Miller’s Grove the way it is.” Josh exchanged a quick handshake with each of the men. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He turned his attention to Wyatt and Tara. He was instantly reminded of Tara’s appearance in the hospital bed. Pale as the wall behind her, the frown lines between her eyebrows so deep they were in danger of becoming permanent.
“You’re not trying to get an exclusive now, are you?” Trying to keep his voice light, Josh stood within a few inches of Wyatt’s side.
“You know Tara, always the eager beaver.” Wyatt faked a laugh and took a step back, glancing in the direction of the group of men now on the far side of the foyer.
“Of course I wasn’t trying to scoop you.” Tara circled around Wyatt to stand at Josh’s side. “We’re a team.” She gave a forced smile that stopped partially up her cheeks. Taking two more steps back, she brushed against the low flower-laden table in the center of the room.
“You’re partners now? I guess that’s something we seem to have in common.” Wyatt nodded slowly to Josh as he pointed to the photographs hung on the wall. A debutante trip through time, each picture was a collection of a half-dozen or so young women standing along the spiral staircase at the back of the room with their escorts on their arm.
“Tara and I were just taking a trip down memory lane.” He pointed to the picture hung just below Josh’s line of sight. One of the smallest groups of teens making their society debut, Tara stood at the front of the line with her hand lightly resting on Wyatt’s arm.
“That was a long time ago.” Tara’s eyes stayed fixed on the picture before she looked up to face Josh. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll give you the exclusive on this one.” Tara kneaded the back of her neck as she forced a smile. “I�
��ll apologize to your dad later. I’m not feeling very well. I … ” She shot a glance at the doorway. “I need to go.” Before either of the men really understood what was happening, she was gone.
• • •
“And what brings you back to Miller’s Grove?” Josh leaned back in his chair as he sat across the table from Wyatt. “I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of the country. Why here?” He gestured out the bay windows in the direction of the city’s main square.
Wyatt slowly crossed his legs, letting his ankle rest on top of his opposite knee. Glancing thoughtfully out the window, he was quiet as he prepared his answer. Finally, he pointed at the red brick building barely visible on the hill in the distance. “I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did without my coaches and the people who kept encouraging me.” He put on a thoughtful expression and stared straight into the camera. “I figured I needed to pay the town back. When Coach Hastings heard about my knee, he called and offered me the chance to be on his staff. I had to take it.”
“So you’re going to be working at the high school?”
Wyatt nodded his head and smiled widely. “I start on Monday.” He cocked his head and smirked. “So all you guys, you’d better be ready. I plan to continue the tradition of winning state again this year. We’ve got some work ahead of us.”
Josh laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be ready.”
A knock sounded at the door behind Josh, and he spun in his seat to find Mrs. Matheson standing in the doorway wringing her hands. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but several of our guests have begun to ask where Wyatt is.” Her lips formed a tight line as her eyes darted between the two men.
“It’s not a problem.” Josh was more than ready for this interview to end. Fifteen minutes listening to Wyatt describe his skills as a football player and his doubts that Denver would repeat their trip to the playoffs without him was more than enough. “I have plenty for the segment.”
“Will it air tonight?” Wyatt stood and adjusted his tie. “Don’t want to miss it.”
“I’ll need to edit it.” Josh pulled his jacket sleeve back and glanced at his watch. “If I leave now, I might have it ready.”
“Well.” Wyatt walked around the table and clapped Josh on the shoulder. “Don’t let me keep you, then.” He waved dismissively at the front door to the inn. “It was a pleasure talking with you. Let me know if you need anything else. I’m a big supporter of the press.”
I’m sure you are. Josh powered his camera off. “I’ll let you know. Thank you for your time.” Wyatt didn’t even wait for Josh to finish speaking before he was out the door, shaking hands with everyone within reach. As a group of young women approached him, he stepped in the middle of them, wrapping an arm around the one with the lowest-cut dress.
As he smiled for the Miller’s Grove Messenger’s photographer, he placed his other arm around a girl in a sparkling, silver dress just in time for the camera’s flash. “Ladies, ladies, ladies. No worries. There’s plenty of Wyatt to go around. Who’s next?”
Josh turned his back on the impromptu photo shoot as he finished packing his equipment. A rumble sounded outside and he looked out the window, not surprised to see dark clouds on the horizon. If they needed to extend the weather report, he knew the likelihood of the story making it on the Saturday night edition of the broadcast was slim.
“Mr. Owens?” A soft female voice came from the doorway. He looked up to see the girl in the low-cut silver dress. She’d left the cluster of young women still surrounding Wyatt and the photographer. “Can I get a picture with you too?” She held out her cell phone.
“Sure.” Josh put the bag of equipment down on the tabletop. “What’s your name?”
“Barbie.” She rolled her eyes. “Barbie Cheever.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Barbie.” He stood close to her side and reached for the phone. “Want me to take the picture?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Do you mind?”
“I’ve had lots of practice.” He held the phone out in front of them as he placed one arm around her shoulders. Pressing on the button to take the picture, he held the smile until the flash went off. “That okay?” He offered it to Barbie for her inspection.
“That’s perfect, thanks!” She giggled as she turned back to her friends showing them her picture. Soon, the whole group was in the private dining room surrounding Josh. As he took a picture with each girl in turn, he wasn’t surprised to see Wyatt looking into the room. He didn’t appear accustomed to having competition in his hometown. Josh turned his attention back to the last of the girls.
“I never thought I’d get a chance to meet you.” A college-aged girl came to stand in front of him. She chewed her lip as she hesitantly held out her phone.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Josh tilted his head until it was brushing against her black hair. He smiled at the camera and took the last of the pictures.
“Thanks.” She bobbed onto her tiptoes with excitement as she looked at the screen.
“Now ladies, I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” He tipped his head in their direction as he picked up his bag. Waving to Mrs. Matheson, he pushed open the front door and walked out onto the covered porch, surprised to find himself at the back of a long line to retrieve his car.
“You trying to beat the storm home too?” A man he recognized as part of the group accompanying the mayor began making conversation.
Trying to beat the storm home. Another peal of thunder, louder this time, accompanied the man’s words. Josh thought back to Tara’s story from when she was a child. He wasn’t sure exactly where she lived, but he hoped she’d been able to get home in time. “Yeah.” In the distance, the clouds had taken on a greenish tint. “I don’t want to get caught in that.”
The line slowly advanced, and Josh pulled his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. Just as he thought. Because of the approaching storm, Spencer had sent him an e-mail saying that they’d run the story on Wyatt’s welcome back to town on Monday to leave more time for an extended weather report.
“Well, where the hell is he?” A familiar voice echoed behind Josh, and he turned to see Wyatt standing toe to toe with the head valet, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. Josh chuckled at the thought of Mrs. Matheson’s expression if Wyatt tried to light up inside the reception.
“Just give him a minute, we’re kind of busy right now.” The head valet frowned at Wyatt while pointing at the line of customers.
Wyatt turned and studied his audience. Lowering his voice, his cheeks a bright shade of red, he glared at the older man. “I need to see Peter Vaughn now.” He cleared his throat as Josh stared in his direction. “I left something in my car. He was picking it up for me.”
“He’ll be here shortly. He must have gone on break. I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. I’ll look for him in a moment.” The head valet rocked back on his heels before inching away from Wyatt. Inclining his head to Josh, he smiled. “My apologies for the delay, Mr. Owens. I’ll have your car for you in just a moment.”
“Take your time. I’m not in any hurry.” He keyed in a reply to Spencer as the first oversized drops of rain began to fall.
“Looks like we’re not going to make it.” The conversational man in front of him wiped a drop from his glasses.
“Probably not,” Josh agreed. Glancing up, he saw his car rolling to a stop. “Excuse me.” He stepped around the rest of the guests, frowning at the annoyed grumbles from those in line as the valet brought his car out of turn. Pulling a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, he slid it into the red-haired valet’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Any time.” The man smiled widely and scurried up the stairs in Wyatt’s direction.
• • •
Damn it. Tara’s eyes stung with unshed tears until she was standing on her own front porch. Fumbling with the keys, a familiar bark greeted h
er from inside the door.
What was I thinking? I should have known this was going to happen.
Finally selecting the right one, she slid the key into the lock and opened the door. After hurrying to silence the countdown before the alarm sounded, she tore the silver ponytail clasp from her hair before she tugged the zipper down from the center of her back.
She charged up the stairs — a worried Rosie whining at her heels. Flinging her dress to the floor, she practically ran into the bathroom and turned the shower tap to hot. Tara opened the door and stepped inside, allowing the sting of the water to wipe away the lingering sensation of his hand on her skin.
She thought she could do it. She thought she’d be all right. Earlier when she’d gotten dressed, she’d looked in the mirror, swearing to herself that she was strong enough. Strong enough to look him in the eye. Strong enough that he wouldn’t be able to control her — not again.
But she was wrong.
Stepping back against the tile wall, she slid to the floor of the shower, finally surrendering to the tears.
• • •
Tara’s doorbell pulled her from a fitful night’s sleep. As she rolled onto her side to glare at the alarm clock, the incessant buzzing continued. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper against her bloodshot eyes. She didn’t even need to look in a mirror to know what she must look like, just like she didn’t need to look out the window to see who decided to pay a social call at 7:00 A.M. on a Sunday. Only one person was brave enough to be at her door at this time on a weekend.
Huffing with annoyance, she grabbed her silk robe and hastily tugged it on before her sister-in-law Meghan resorted to honking her car horn to get her attention.
“I’m coming.” Her feet hit the stairs as Rosie’s whining reached almost-too-shrill-for-humans-to-hear levels. She pawed at the door, anxious for Tara to let one of her favorite people in the house. “I know, Rosie.” She leaned down and scratched the dog beneath her collar. “Meghan’s here.”
Tara peeled the sheer ivory curtain away from the window, shaking her head at the white box held exactly at her eye level.
Small Town Secrets Page 6