On Lone Star Trail
Page 13
When Gillian chuckled, Kate said, “I’m not sure you need a push,” and for a second Gillian wondered whether Kate had somehow realized how often Gillian’s thoughts turned to TJ.
She’d told herself it was only natural that she would worry about a man who’d lost so much, but that did not explain why she dreamt about him last night. In her dream, TJ had seemed carefree as they’d waited in line to board the Maid of the Mist, and when the boat had taken them to the foot of Niagara Falls, he’d laughed. The laughter had been wonderful, but it was what happened next that haunted Gillian’s thoughts. TJ had wrapped his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close and tipping her face toward his. She’d been certain he was going to kiss her, but before their lips touched, the alarm clock had jolted her awake.
As she felt her cheeks redden at the memory, Gillian took another sip of coffee, trying to hide her reaction to the dream. It was only a dream, she told herself. It meant nothing.
Kate’s chuckle deepened. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s some extra color on your cheeks and a twinkle in your eye this morning. Should I guess who put them there?”
Kate might be her best friend, but there was no way Gillian was going to tell her about that silly dream. “You can try, but I think you’ll be surprised.”
“Be surprised by what?” Marisa asked as she hurried into the apartment, glancing at her watch.
“I’m speculating on the reason Gillian looks so happy today. At first I thought it was Mike Tarkett, but now I’m beginning to suspect it’s related to the reason she asked me to invite you here for coffee.”
Thankful that the redirection had worked, Gillian waited until Marisa poured herself a cup of coffee and settled into one of the overstuffed chairs before she spoke. “You’re right, Kate. If there’s a twinkle in my eye, it was caused by two women—Linda and a woman whose name I don’t know. I just think of her as Silver.” Even though she’d never dreamt about them, when she was awake, Gillian’s thoughts turned toward the two women almost as often as they did toward TJ.
“The second one must be Sheila.” Marisa nodded knowingly. “They’re sisters-in-law and do almost everything together.”
“They came into the store twice this week.” Gillian smiled at Marisa as she said, “They bought a couple books, but what got me started thinking were their comments—more like complaints—that there’s nothing for seniors to do in Dupree.”
Kate turned to Marisa. “Sally hasn’t said anything to me, so I haven’t given it much thought. I know she’s excited about the idea of a book club.”
“Because that’s the only activity available.”
Kate seemed surprised by Gillian’s comment. “What do you think, Marisa? Is that true?”
“Probably. Some people play golf, but that’s the only other thing I can think of.”
And that was the problem. A once-a-month book club or an occasional golf game wasn’t enough, especially since some seniors didn’t enjoy reading or golf. The thought of people being stuck at home with little to do other than watch TV bothered Gillian.
“What if there were a place where they could gather?” she asked. “Not the church fellowship hall or a room at the library but something special for them.”
“A senior center.” Kate looked pensive as she sipped her tea.
“Exactly. I keep thinking it’s like Field of Dreams. You know the line about if you build it, they will come. The good thing about Dupree is we don’t have to build it. There are plenty of empty stores just waiting for someone to use them. Why not the seniors?”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Marisa punctuated her sentence with an enthusiastic two thumbs-up.
“I agree.” Kate rubbed her belly as she said, “Greg and I can help with funding, but I’m afraid I can’t offer much else. The doctor doesn’t want me to drive or do much of anything other than wait for the baby to make his appearance.”
Marisa nodded slowly. “I can’t offer the kind of money Kate can, but I can show you what I had to do to get Hill Country Pages ready for business. It’s not too hard to start a business in Dupree, and nonprofits are even easier, but it never hurts to have someone show you the ropes.”
Their approval was exactly what Gillian had hoped for. She’d tossed the concept around in her mind, trying to find reasons why it wouldn’t work, but all the thinking she’d done had merely solidified her belief that a senior center was a good idea. “So you think we should do this?”
“We?” Kate raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I think you should do it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you came up here with plans almost done and what you wanted from Marisa and me was confirmation that it’s a good idea. Am I right?”
“You are.”
Gillian had spent the lulls between customers thinking about Marisa’s explanation of the business permitting process. She’d updated her list and made two new ones, and all the while, her eyes kept returning to the empty store directly across the street from Hill Country Pages.
It was no different from half a dozen other vacant buildings, but the location appealed to Gillian. It was close to the bookstore and Hill Country Pieces, the town’s quilt shop, both of which drew women to this part of Pecan Street. And it was next door to Sam’s Bootery.
Though Gillian doubted they all needed new boots, she’d seen a number of older men enter the store and remain for an hour or so. What they did inside was a mystery, which was part of the reason Gillian headed for the bootery as soon as she turned Hill Country Pages over to the teenager who’d arrived for the second shift.
“How can I help you?”
Gillian blinked as her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the store. The smells of leather and polish competed with the fragrance from a large bouquet of hyacinths on one corner of the counter, but what caught Gillian’s attention was that the person behind the counter was a beautiful young woman, not the grizzled man she’d expected. Though Gillian had seen the woman’s face on the boot advertising the store, she had assumed the woman was a model, not someone who worked there.
Extending her hand, she said, “I’m Gillian Hodge and I’m looking for Sam Dexter.”
The woman smiled. “You’re in the right place. I’m Sam Dexter. Samantha, actually. My dad’s the original Sam, but the business is mine now.”
“Now I see why so many men come here.” Gillian would have thought that Samantha’s combination of light brown hair, blue eyes, and classic features made her a candidate for a modeling career rather than running a bootery in a small Texas town.
“Older men?” Samantha raised a carefully shaped eyebrow. “If you think they come to see me, you’re mistaken. They’re looking for a game of chess or checkers.” She gestured toward the back of the store. “Dad has a table set up most of the time.”
It was the perfect segue. “That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m hoping to start a senior center in Dupree. At this point, nothing’s decided, but I envision a place for chess and checkers and lots of other activities.”
Gillian gestured in the direction of the empty store next door. “That location seemed ideal to me, but now I’m not so sure. If you have plans to expand or if your father doesn’t want anything to compete with his games, I’ll look for another spot.”
“A senior center.” Samantha nodded slowly. “I wonder why no one thought of that before. Dupree could definitely use one.”
She tipped her head to one side, listening to the sound of men’s voices emerging from the back of the store. “To tell you the truth, I suspect Dad would be just as happy if the men had another place to play. My mom thinks he ought to be spending more time with her now that he’s retired, but he hates to disappoint his buddies. Half the time Dad doesn’t play—just watches the other guys.”
“So a different location would help him.”
“Definitely.” Samantha gave Gillian a con
spiratorial grin. “Me too. They’re nice guys, but sometimes they’re a little, shall we say, nosy.”
Gillian had no trouble imagining that. “What about the store next door? Do you have any plans for that?”
Samantha shook her head. “Business is great, but we have no need to expand. So I say, go ahead. It’s a good idea.”
As relief washed over Gillian, she realized how much she’d wanted that particular location. While it was true, as she’d told Kate and Marisa, that there were many empty stores from which to choose, this one had caught her eye and her imagination and had refused to let go.
“Do you happen to know who owns the building?” Given the town’s size, Gillian would have been surprised if Samantha did not.
A laugh was her response. “I sure do.” She turned toward the back room and called out, “Dad, Gillian Hodge wants to talk to you about turning the store next door into a senior center.”
“What’s this about a senior center?” The man who emerged from the back followed by the two men Gillian had seen entering the store an hour ago had Samantha’s blue eyes, but his hair had turned gun-metal gray, and his shoulders were slightly slumped, perhaps from years of hunching over a work table.
When Gillian completed her explanation, she said, “I wondered if you’d be willing to rent it out.”
Sam Senior turned to the other men. “Seems to me you guys have a chess game to finish while this lady and I tend to business.”
Recognizing the dismissal, the men headed to the back room. Sam lowered his voice as he addressed Gillian. “If you start a senior center, will my buddies have a place to play chess?” His expression gave no indication of whether he favored the idea.
“I understand that they already do.”
“An official place with room for more than one game?” This was beginning to sound like an interrogation.
Gillian nodded. “Chess, checkers, and other things. Some of the women are interested in starting a book club, and the center would give them a place to meet. If I can find an instructor, I thought we might offer yoga and tai chi. We’d have to charge for those separately from the monthly membership fee, but I don’t think the classes would be too expensive.”
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.”
20
It 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 cosmetic, 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.”