by Amanda Cabot
“Hodge,” she said. “Gillian Hodge. And you’re . . .”
The man’s shake was firm, and if he noticed that she winced ever so slightly at the contact, he said nothing. “I’m TJ Benjamin, and as you can see, I’m having a very bad day.”
“It could have been worse,” she said bluntly. “You could have hurt an innocent bystander.”
2
She was unlike any woman he’d ever met. The women he knew—Deb included—would say something more after the zinger she’d hurled at him. Instead, Gillian Hodge simply started the engine and pulled onto the road. She didn’t seem troubled by the silence, but she was definitely troubled by something. There was no mistaking the way her lips tensed when she looked in the rearview mirror.
TJ was doing his own share of tensing each time he glanced at the side mirror, but he had a good reason. That was his bike, his sole form of transportation, his home on wheels, he’d left chained to the guardrail.
When the car crested a hill and the bike was no longer visible, TJ forced himself to relax. It was unlikely anyone would try to steal it, but the simple fact was, there was nothing he could do if someone with a pair of bolt cutters, a truck with ramps, and a larcenous frame of mind came along. He needed to think about something else, like the woman in the driver’s seat.
As she exhaled, almost as if in relief, he glanced at her. For the first time since she’d pulled back onto the highway, her fingers no longer had a death grip on the steering wheel. It might be coincidence, but TJ couldn’t help wondering whether there was a connection between her tension and his motorcycle.
As he thought back, he realized that her reaction to it had been unusual. Though he would have expected dismay or sympathy, there’d been fear in Gillian’s eyes when she’d looked at the mangled bike, and when he’d been chaining it to the guardrail, she’d kept her eyes fixed on the horizon.
And then there was her comment about hurting innocent bystanders. TJ had been tempted to ask her what she meant, but the anguish in her expression had stopped him. It was probably cowardly, but the truth was, he didn’t want to know. There had been a time when he would have tried to comfort someone in her situation, but he was out of that business now. Firsthand experience had taught TJ how empty words of comfort could be.
“Have you been to Dupree before?” It was odd, being the one to break the silence, but it had begun to feel oppressive, at least to him. There was something wrong with sitting so quietly in a car with Gillian Hodge, especially when the combination of the silence and Gillian herself sent TJ’s thoughts in dangerous directions.
He studied the woman who’d rescued him. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, but she was strikingly attractive with that auburn hair and those brilliant green eyes. Her features were classic, a fact that the severe hairdo highlighted. Though long, wavy hair seemed to be the hairstyle many women liked, Gillian’s was pulled back into a formal bun that reminded him of the ice-skaters he’d seen on TV.
He judged her to be at least eight inches shorter than his six feet, and though that made her a bit shorter than average, she didn’t seem to feel the need to wear those ridiculously high heels. Instead she was clad in jeans, ankle-height boots with sensible heels, and a tailored shirt. The outfit looked ordinary, but something told TJ it had cost more than he imagined. Deb had warned him that sometimes the simplest clothes—a little black dress, for example—were outrageously expensive.
Seemingly unaware of his scrutiny, Gillian nodded. “I was here once before. I came for my best friend’s wedding last September.”
“The friend who owns the resort?”
Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile that made TJ revise his opinion. When she smiled, Gillian Hodge was the most beautiful woman he’d met.
“Kate and her husband are the least likely people to open a resort,” Gillian said, visibly relaxing as she spoke of her friend. “Kate used to be an advertising executive, and her husband owned a big software company in Silicon Valley. Now they’re innkeepers.” Gillian chuckled, as if amused by the idea.
TJ had to admit that those were not the backgrounds he would have expected for innkeepers. Some of his fellow teachers had talked about opening B&Bs when they retired, claiming that years of dealing with unruly students was the perfect preparation for handling demanding guests. TJ wondered how people more accustomed to structured meetings and PowerPoint presentations were dealing with the unpredictable behavior of tourists. He wouldn’t ask, because he really didn’t care. What he cared about was the woman driving him to Dupree.
“What about you?”
Gillian appeared startled by the question. “What do you mean?”
“What do you do for a living?”
It was the wrong question. Though he’d thought it innocuous enough, the way her fingers once again clutched the steering wheel told TJ he’d hit a sensitive nerve. Her lips flattened, and for a second he wondered if she’d refuse to answer. But then she shrugged. “I’m temporarily unemployed.”
And obviously unhappy about it. He wouldn’t pry into the circumstances, because if he did, he might find himself feeling he should offer advice, something he had no intention of doing. Instead, TJ said, “Me too.”
He suspected that was one of the few things he had in common with Gillian. She had East Coast big city stamped all over her, but even though he’d lived in a suburb of Houston, TJ had never considered himself a city man. Give him wide open spaces any day. Wide open spaces and his bike, not an air-conditioned sedan that allowed you to see but not hear, feel, and even taste the countryside. TJ grinned, wondering how Miss Big City would have dealt with bugs on her teeth. Not well, he suspected.
They lapsed into silence, but this time it felt more comfortable, perhaps because they’d both begun to relax. Before he had to search for another topic of conversation, Gillian made a left turn at the sign that welcomed them to Dupree, the Heart of the Hills. A gas station sat a few yards behind the sign. Perfect.
“You can let me off here,” TJ said. “They’re bound to have a tow truck.” He had no way of knowing whether anyone there could repair motorcycles, but he wanted to believe that chances were good, since the damage was simply metal and rubber. Engine repairs were trickier.
Gillian shook her head and showed no sign of slowing. “The deal was to take you to Rainbow’s End. That’s where we’re going.”
Whatever her job had been, one thing was clear: the woman was used to being in charge. TJ settled back in the seat, resigning himself to seeing her friend’s resort. There was no way he would stay there, but the place would have a phone. And, if he was lucky, Dupree would have a motorcycle shop.
As he glanced at the street sign, TJ blinked. “Lone Star Trail?”
Gillian laughed, the sound so sweet it made him smile. “It sounds silly, doesn’t it? Kate told me it used to be called Main Street, but a hundred years ago, someone decided to go for something more Texan.” She turned, giving TJ a conspiratorial smile. “There’s more. We have to climb Ranger Hill to get to the resort. Believe it or not, Rainbow’s End is located on Bluebonnet Lake, and there’s even a place called Firefly Valley.”
She probably didn’t realize it, but that was the longest speech TJ had heard her give. It seemed Gillian preferred talking about inanimate objects rather than people. He wondered why.
Since he didn’t have to concentrate on driving, TJ looked around as they drove through what appeared to be an ordinary small town’s downtown area. A few empty stores were nestled among the collection of establishments typical for a town of less than six hundred: a theater, bank, grocery store, two churches, and a few other small businesses. Dupree was what TJ had always called a blink town. “Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it,” he used to tell Deb when they’d approach other similarly sized towns.
He wasn’t blinking now, and he wasn’t blinking when Gillian told him they’d re
ached the summit of Ranger Hill. With the sun still high in the western sky, he saw the sparkle of a small lake and the metal roofs of cabins at what must be the resort. As his gaze turned to the left, TJ felt his heart begin to thud. RVs. A field filled with RVs.
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing his pulse to return to normal. He wouldn’t stay here. He couldn’t. This was not the place for him.
TJ forced his eyes open but kept his gaze focused on the resort, as if by ignoring them, he could make the RVs disappear. He hadn’t been inside an RV campground in almost two years, and he wasn’t going to start now. Just being this close was making the sweat break out on his forehead.
Seemingly unaware of his distress, Gillian gestured toward the wrought-iron gate as she turned onto a multicolored gravel driveway. “I like the sign. Don’t you?”
TJ stared. Though the gate itself was ordinary, the sign was not. As might be expected, the sign featured a rainbow, but instead of the fabled pot of gold, this rainbow ended in what appeared to be Noah’s ark.
Two years ago, TJ would have smiled in delight that instead of animals peering from the windows, the ark bore a heart with a cross in its center and that the sign proclaimed this to be Rainbow’s End, the Heart and Soul of the Hill Country. Today he could barely repress his shudder. An obviously Christian resort with RVs parked across the road was the last place he wanted to be.
“It’s . . .” He struggled for a word, finally settling on unique.
“That it is,” Gillian said as she drove a short distance along the road and parked in front of a Tyrolean-style building with a discreet sign identifying it as the office. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you to Kate and Greg.”
Though he was tempted to walk away, TJ knew that would accomplish nothing. As uncomfortable as he felt, he needed to get his bike repaired and find a place to sleep tonight.
“Ms. Hodge!” The teenager behind the desk of the nicely appointed office jumped up from her seat. “It’s so cool that you’re here.” The grin on her face and the light in her eyes did a good job of conveying more excitement than TJ had ever seen on a desk clerk’s face. Gillian’s friend must have told the staff to make her feel welcome. Apparently unfazed by the bubbling enthusiasm, Gillian simply smiled.
“Kate’s on a conference call now,” the girl said as she gestured toward the back of the building. “She said to tell you to make yourself at home in her apartment. You know where that is, don’t you?”
Gillian nodded as she settled her bag on her shoulder. “I need to see Greg first.” She gave TJ a quick smile before she turned back to the teenager. “This gentleman needs a room for a few days.”
As if on cue, a brown-haired man about TJ’s height entered the office. So this was the California software mogul. Other than his undeniable air of command, he looked like many of the men TJ had met along his travels, but Gillian was right. TJ wouldn’t have pegged him for an innkeeper.
“Did I hear my name?” Greg hugged Gillian, then held her at arm’s length to study her. “Welcome back,” he said with a warm smile before he glanced at TJ. “Who’s your friend?”
Tired of being treated as if he couldn’t speak, TJ nodded brusquely. “TJ Benjamin,” he said, extending his hand for the obligatory shake. “Gillian was kind enough to give me a ride after my motorcycle had an unfortunate encounter with a guardrail. I’m looking for a place to camp while it’s being fixed.”
“You’re in good hands, TJ,” Gillian said, giving him a small wave as she headed toward the back of the building, clearly eager to see her friend.
“Where’s your bike?” Greg asked.
When TJ explained, Greg nodded. “I have the best mechanic in Dupree on staff here. If Eric St. George can’t fix your bike, no one can. C’mon.” Greg headed outside. “When we bought the truck for Rainbow’s End, Eric insisted on getting ramps. Now I know why.”
Greg led the way to a small parking lot hidden from the office by tall shrubs. Though the white pickup he approached had the Rainbow’s End logo on the sides, it was the van next to it that caught TJ’s attention. The van had been transformed from an ordinary white vehicle into what appeared to be a motorized ark, with the Rainbow’s End logo covering not only the sides but also the front and back, making it a rolling advertisement for the resort.
“This was Eric’s idea too,” Greg said. “I don’t know what Kate and I did before he joined us. As you can see, the man’s got great ideas, and he’s a wiz at anything mechanical. God knew what he was doing when he sent Eric back here.”
God. Of course. A man who owned a Christian resort would believe that God was the giver of all good things. He probably had Jeremiah 29:11 and Romans 8:28 tattooed on his chest. TJ did not.
When they reached the accident site, Greg whistled. “You were right about close encounters. That was one of the worst.” He frowned as he looked at the crumpled front wheel, and TJ winced. The damage was worse than he remembered. Fortunately, sheet metal and rubber could be replaced . . . for a price.
Greg patted the handlebars. “Nice bike.”
“It was.” And it would be again, if this Eric person was as good as Greg claimed.
With Greg’s assistance, it was a simple matter to haul the bike into the truck, and within minutes TJ was headed back to Dupree. This time he knew not to look to the left as they descended into Firefly Valley.
“Eric’s already left for the day,” Greg said when they reached the resort, “but I’ll have him start on your bike first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, let’s get you settled. I’ve got two cabins vacant tonight. Would you prefer lakefront or tree views?”
TJ shook his head as he climbed out of the truck. Unlike the people he knew—ordinary people with ordinary incomes—Greg was wealthy. He’d probably never been in TJ’s situation. “There’s no easy way to say this, but I can’t afford either. I was looking for a place where I could pitch my tent.” He hadn’t slept in a real bed in a place with walls since he’d left Houston.
Greg stopped and turned to face TJ, his expression saying he realized TJ did not want the conversation overheard. “I’m afraid there are no campgrounds in Dupree, and the local ranchers aren’t especially happy about folks camping on their land.”
“What about the RVs?” Though the thought made him cringe, there didn’t appear to be any alternatives.
Greg’s face softened. “That’s not a campground, even though it might look like it. A fire last December left two dozen families homeless. They’re living there until the new apartment complex is finished.” He clapped TJ on the shoulder and turned toward the office. “The only place to stay is here.”
Was this how animals felt when they were cornered? TJ didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t like the feeling. “I can’t accept charity.”
“It won’t be charity.” There was no hint of pity in Greg’s voice, nothing other than the steely determination that had likely propelled him to success. “Trust me, TJ. There are plenty of ways for you to pay for your room and board. Now, c’mon. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Though his instincts told him to run, there was nowhere to go, and so TJ followed Greg into the office, telling himself this was only temporary. In a day or two, he’d be on the road again.
3
You look wonderful!” Gillian exclaimed as her best friend entered the apartment. Gillian had let herself into the suite of rooms over the Rainbow’s End dining room only a few minutes before and had felt the tension that had plagued her ever since she’d seen the motorcycle in her rearview mirror drain as she curled up in one of Kate’s comfortable chairs. Now Kate was here, her face beaming with a welcoming smile.
Gillian rose and took a step toward her friend, her arms opening for a hug. This was why she had come, for the unconditional love and acceptance she knew Kate and her grandmother would provide. Though their lives had changed dramatically over the l
ast year, Gillian knew nothing could change that.
“I look fat,” Kate said with a rueful look at her once-trim waistline.
“You’re glowing,” Gillian insisted. “Pregnancy definitely agrees with you.” Kate had always been beautiful. The unexpected combination of brown eyes and blonde hair made most men take a second look, but today she’d gone beyond beautiful to radiant. Gillian enfolded her in her arms, both of them laughing at the awkwardness the baby bump added to their embrace. “Oh, Kate, I’m so happy for you.”
“And I’m so happy that you’re here,” Kate said as she returned the hug before leading Gillian to the long couch where they could sit with their arms around each other as they’d done as children. “Greg and I are going to do our best to convince you to stay for more than a week. That’s why we’ve put you in Isaiah.”
Though she wasn’t certain where that particular cabin was located, Gillian remembered that Kate and Greg had replaced the numbers on the cabins with biblical names.
“Lakeside?” Gillian asked.
Kate shook her head. “No, but it’s even better. Isaiah used to be our cook’s cabin. It’s more like an apartment than a cabin, because it has two bedrooms and a small kitchen. Although,” Kate added with a wry smile, “I doubt you’ll use the kitchen. Carmen’s cooking is out of this world.”
Gillian matched Kate’s grin. “I remember. The meals here are guaranteed to fatten up everyone. But where’s Carmen living?”
“Back in town. Her husband’s here now, and when their old house went on the market, Carmen and Eric bought it. I’ve been saving Isaiah for you.”
“It sounds wonderful.” And it did. Although Rainbow’s End’s cabins weren’t luxurious and boasted none of the amenities that had once been part of Gillian’s life, they were comfortable. She didn’t need a hundred TV channels or a whirlpool bath. What she needed was a place to relax. She was giving herself a week here. At the end, she would return to Chicago and attempt to piece together a new life.