He said, “I should stipulate that we’d like more than the usual travel mugs and T-shirts. I want to make this fundraiser impressive by getting some unique items. Carson has been involved with this through his sponsorship, and I understood they’ve already booked a great speaker. We’ve reserved the arena in town, and to fill it, we need something other than the speaker to draw a good crowd.”
“People in the valley are generous. Shouldn’t be too hard,” Tess said, thinking of how many people they could fit in the arena. It could be a large crowd. If they could draw people in.
He handed her a copy of the sheet. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“I came to this meeting, didn’t I?” Tess said, shifting through the other papers, trying to keep her voice neutral.
His silence seemed to imply something else, and Tess shook her head in mock consternation. “Jace, where’s the trust? Where’s the love?” She flashed him a quick smile, fighting to maintain an air of joviality.
“This isn’t just a lark for me. This fundraiser has to work.”
“Why is this important to you? You couldn’t get away from Sweet Creek fast enough. You’ve never been attached to this place; why bother getting involved now?” Tess tamped down her irritation as she drew in a long, slow breath. She needed to keep her emotions under control. She shouldn’t get into a sparring match with him.
Jace sighed, then leaned back in his chair. “Let’s just say that I’ve got a lot riding on this event and how I achieve here.”
“Like a promotion?”
Jace shrugged. “No secret there. I will do what I can for Carson and the company. He wants this to be a success and I am to make it happen.”
“Old Man MacGregor must adore you.”
“We get along well.”
“I’m sure part of your devotion has to do with the accident you and Chuck were in.” No sooner had she spoken the snippy words than she wished she could pull them back. The jab hearkened to memories of high school, to scrapes Jace and his friend would get in and Carson would dig them from—the most serious one being the accident that had given Jace his scar.
And had made him turn his life around.
“I got this job strictly on my own merit.” His voice turned steely.
“I’m sorry.” She kept the apology simple and struggled to focus on the business at hand. “Don’t worry, Jace, I’ll do my best to make this fundraiser a success.”
“I’d appreciate that. Like I said, I need for it to do well.”
The tone in his voice surprised her. “And why is that? There’s nothing in it for you or the MacGregors, other than small-town loyalty.”
Jace blinked and half turned from her, as if he didn’t want to admit the full truth. “Some of the plans Chuck and Carson want for Sweet Creek could use some goodwill.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Didn’t like how it would make Jace look in the eyes of the town. “You’re hoping to grease the wheels for one of MacGregor’s developments?”
“It’s a good plan. Sweet Creek could use some upscale condos.”
“For people who don’t live here, and who like to have a winter house close to a growing ski hill and resort.”
“Or for some people who live here and don’t want a house and yard to take care of,” he retorted. “Like your parents, who have been talking with Carson about the project.”
Her parents were getting tired of all the upkeep on their house and yard but didn’t want to move into one of the small apartments in town. But they were working with Jace behind her back—she didn’t like that idea one bit. It was something else she’d have to talk to her mother about. “You’re ambitious these days, hmm?”
“Yeah, it seems we’ve traded places in that department.”
His tone was too familiar. She had to put a stop to this little trip down memory lane.
“Things change. People change,” she said with an airy wave of her hand. “I’m using my talents in my own way. And you’re stuck with me and those talents.”
He said nothing to that, and, despite her need to keep her distance, she didn’t like the idea that he thought of her as unambitious. She lifted a brow. “I’ll tell you what, Scholte. I know for a fact I can get more dollars’ worth of donations than you and Sheila combined,” she said.
“Really?” Jace crossed his arms over his chest, looking incredulous.
“Really.” Tess leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her body language showing more confidence than she felt.
“Getting donations is one thing, but raising a substantial amount of money is something else,” Jace cautioned her.
“Good thing I am something else, as you were always so fond of saying.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back. Before she came here, she had promised herself that she wouldn’t revisit their past. They’d both changed over the years, and there was no turning back.
“So you think you can raise the most lucrative donations, Theresa Alicia Grace Kraus?”
His use of her full name generated an unexpected tug on those memories, like a hook pulling out what she had just hidden.
She pressed her hand against her chest, holding back the thundering of her heart. Don’t go there, she told herself. Don’t go back.
“Yeah. I do,” she said, throwing the challenge back with forced bravado, trying to counteract the feelings he was bringing to the forefront.
“Very well, I’m proposing a little contest. If you get higher valued donations than me, I have to take you out for dinner. If I get more than you, you take me out for dinner. The winner gets to pick the restaurant.”
Tess hesitated. She was fairly sure she would win. She knew most of the people in this town better than Jace did. Thanks to her work at the farmer’s market, she had far more access to crafts and trade people. But, what kind of contest was this? Either way she would be going to dinner with him. If she won, she could back out.
“Scared?” Jace taunted.
“No. I think it’s silly.”
“Then what do you have to lose...” He lifted one hand in a languid gesture.
The look on his face annoyed her. Like he was taunting her. She said, “Okay. I accept. Dinner at any place I choose.”
“You’re that sure you will win?”
Tess glanced down at the papers and nodded decisively, more to assure herself than him. “Oh yeah. I’m that sure.”
“And you’re here for the long haul?”
A casual observer wouldn’t have caught the faint edge in Jace’s voice or been able to interpret the subtext.
“Of course I am.” The hurt crept into her voice. “You’ve let me know how important this is to you. I wouldn’t want to impede your ambitions.”
“You make ambition sound like a dirty word.”
“You didn’t used to care about that.”
“People change. As you said.” Jace held her gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary. He looked like he wanted to ask her a question.
She willed herself not to look away from his eyes. “I am not a quitter.” She enunciated each word carefully to make sure he understood.
The dubious expression on his face stoked her anger; a far preferable emotion to the other, older attraction hovering between her and Jace. “Unlike you,” she said, drawing on her anger, “I know this town. I don’t hop in and out when it suits me. You can doubt my ability to stick things through to the end, but I’m not one to turn my back on the people that matter.”
“Really?” His eyes narrowed.
Too late she realized how neatly she was snared. She lowered her eyes, her hands grasping the paper as she fought to keep herself grounded in the present.
“Tess...why are you like this?” he asked. “What happened?”
Thankfully, his voice held an impatient edge. His questions were easier to brush off if he was angry with her—any hint of caring would have undone her.
She shoved the paper into her folder, then stuffed
the folder in her bag. “Anything else?” she asked, as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
Their gazes caught and held, and Tess could feel his frustration humming in the air. Then, his expression grew enigmatic. “You’ll keep me posted on your progress?”
“If I need any help, I’ll ask.” Tess spun around and strode down the hallway and out the door.
She was halfway down the sidewalk before she unclenched her fists and the tightness across her forehead eased away. She shouldn’t have let him get to her.
Her own choices were for self-preservation. The only way she could get past that horrible night was by keeping the memories locked down. For the past few years, she had managed.
Tess breathed in and out. In…out, struggling to calm herself, to push the memories down. She got into her car but glanced back before she drove away—Jace stood in the doorway of his family home, the old house silhouetted against the mountains. For a moment she wondered how he felt to be back. He had often complained about how little money his family had, how living hand to mouth on this worn-down ranch was something he wanted to leave so badly.
She looked at the car that represented everything he always said he wanted. A reminder that he wasn’t staying here. Once this fundraiser was over, he’d be gone. She had to hang on only until then. No matter what happened, she could not tell Jace why she had to keep him at arm’s length, away from her heart.
It was better for both of them.
She knew he would never understand, or worse, would disbelieve her.
Chapter 3
“Psst, Tess. Got something to tell you.”Tess looked up from the empty table she was cleaning at the farmer’s market and grinned at the middle-aged man standing in front of her. Charlie Grady wore his usual plaid woolen coat and still carried the battered guitar he played when he busked at the entrance to the farmer’s market.
But today he instead of his usual scruffy chin, he was clean-shaven, and his long, thinning hair was neatly combed. Charlie seldom shaved, and the only time she saw him with neat hair was when he was playing a gig on the folk-music circuit.
“What is it?” she asked, greatly intrigued.
Charlie’s grin almost split his face. He leaned a little closer to her. “I’m married.” Tess could only stare. Charlie? Proud bachelor, married?
“So...how...when...?” Tess sputtered.
“Happened about a week ago. We eloped.” Charlie winked. “It’s great. You should try it.” Tess ignored the hint, still trying to absorb the idea that Charlie, the footloose gent who had been single all his life, was now married.
“Who...?”
“Helen Lennox.”
“The Helen Lennox? Helen Lennox of the award-winning–singer fame? Helen Lennox who I’ve listened to since I was a kid?” Tess tried to make sense of this shocking information, convinced Charlie was either teasing her or had become delusional.
“Yup.” Charlie grinned happily. “You’ll have to come up and visit us sometime. She’d love company.” Just like that. A casual invitation to meet Helen Lennox, one of Tess’s favorite singers.
Don’t let your mouth fall open, she thought. “Well...sure...I guess. Are you living at...your place?”
“Yeah. She likes it here, says it’s rustic.”
Rustic was a kindly generous description. Tess tried to imagine Helen Lennox of the spangled guitar and sweeping formal dresses being happy in the log cabin Charlie had built with his bachelor brother over the last five years.
“I’d love to come.” This she had to see.
“Tonight?”
“Okay.” Tess was dumbfounded. Sure, she had visited Charlie before, bringing him the occasional meal, some baking, and farm-fresh eggs, but to come for a visit to see Helen Lennox...
“I think she’s lonely. Should get to know some local women. Me and the Lord are working on her to come to church. She’s thinking on it. You’d like her—she’s real sweet.”
I’m sure I would, Tess thought, still trying to process the information. Helen Lennox. “How did you meet?” she asked, trying to not project her incredulity into her voice as she finished cleaning up. She was done for the day—all her stuff was sold, and she only needed to speak with a few vendors about donations. She had time to listen to Charlie’s story. Plenty of time, truth be told.
Charlie shrugged. “I was doing a gig down at a coffee house in Calgary a year ago. She was sitting with a friend who also happened to be a friend of mine. So I thought, well, why not? Went up to their table. Introduced myself. Tried not to make a fool of myself.” A faraway look filled his eyes. “Then we talked about music and I was okay. We talked about all kinds of things that night. Loneliness. God. Forgiveness.”
Charlie offered Tess a shy grin. “You know me and the Lord talk often about forgiveness,” he continued. “Anyway, when I got home, I wrote her a letter, and she wrote me back. We kept it up for a while. Then I went down to visit her this winter, and we hit it off.” His face lit up. “The rest is a story to tell.”
“Well, I’d love to see her.” Her heart fluttered at the thought of meeting the woman whose music had always touched her. Helen’s soulful lyrics and heartfelt singing seemed to give voice to the very things she herself couldn’t express. “What time should I come?”
“Seven o’clock or eight. Up to you. Just make sure you bring some eggs like you usually do. And maybe some of those cranberry and orange muffins. Helen will love those.”
“Right.” A woman who had probably dined in the finest restaurants, enjoying her homemade muffins? She was about to say something else when a movement caught her eye. A man. Tall. Dark hair. A commanding presence, winding his way past the honey seller, the quilt lady, and the man selling antler carvings, heading toward her and Charlie.
Her heart stuttered with dismay.
She had thought Jace wouldn’t come here. She had thought here, at least, she was safe. Today, Jace wore blue jeans, a faded chambray shirt, and a canvas coat. He blended in very well. He looked less like a businessman and more like the man she had once cared for. The man she no longer belonged to.
She had to get out of here. But, as she was about to make a sharp left turn toward Honey Bee Mine, Jace was in front of her, and it would look rude to walk around him.
Just at that moment, Charlie noticed him as well.
“Well, hello, Jace,” Charlie said. “I heard you were back in town.”
“And I heard congratulations are in order,” Jace said, flashing Charlie a dazzling smile.
Charlie’s grin ran from ear to ear. “Yeah. Thanks. I think I found a woman who doesn’t mind listening to me foolin’ on my guitar all hours of the night. God is good. All the time.” He strummed his guitar as if to underline each statement.
“I heard she’s a singer,” Jace continued.
Tess frowned. How did he know so quickly? She had just found out herself.
“That she is. Better’n me.” Charlie looked him over. “So...Jace Scholte. Working for Carson MacGregor. That’s quite a step up.”
Jace nodded slowly, as if unsure of Charlie’s statement.
“I would meet your dad once in a while when he’d stop at the local coffee shop.” Charlie smiled. “He always had his Bible with him. Always read it, hoping someone would ask him about it. He was a good man, your dad.”
“Thanks for that,” Jace said.
“I heard you got sent back here to work on getting people on board with that condo development?”
“Hopefully. I’d like to create some goodwill and have Sweet Creek behind Carson’s plan.”
Charlie nodded. “Carson’s a good man. That boy of his is a pistol, though.”
Jace chuckled. “I work with him now.”
“Really? Chuck MacGregor? A developer like his daddy?” Charlie shook his head. “The Lord’s mysterious ways never cease to confound me.” He turned to Tess. “So, we’ll see you tonight.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Tess said with a forced smile, rubbing her
arms against a sudden chill.
Charlie turned to Jace. “You want to come, too?”
Tess angled her body away from Jace and shot a frown at the singer, giving him a barely noticeable shake of her head. She didn’t want Jace along. Bad enough that he showed up here, now he had to be intertwined into her social life?
This was too hard.
“My wife just moved here,” Charlie said. “I was telling Tess she gets kind of lonely. Would be nice if we could have some people over for company.”
Tess hoped Jace would be put off by Charlie’s torn blue jeans, stained jacket worn and frayed at the cuffs, and scuffed boots.
“Yeah. Why not?” Jace replied.
Tess’s heart plunged. She would have backed out immediately, but for the fact that it would hurt Charlie’s feelings. Plus, she desperately wanted to meet one of her favorite singers.
“That’s great,” Charlie said. With a smile and a wave, he strolled off, strumming another song, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d created.
She turned to Jace, hoping to talk him out of coming. “You may as well know, Charlie’s place is...rustic at best. He lives way out east. Right along the river. You don’t have to feel obligated to come.”
“Obligated? Are you kidding? Miss a chance to meet Helen Lennox? I don’t think so.”
Tess sighed. Her actions could be seen as selfish; in truth, it was self-preservation. She needed to create a space that Jace wasn’t a part of, for the sake of the fundraiser. Each time she saw him, it grew harder to maintain a casual attitude toward him. To act as if he didn’t matter to her.
“Besides,” Jace continued, “I’ve been tapped to talk to him about singing at the fundraiser. The organizers thought it would be neat if he did what he does here. Walking around, singing old folk tunes and gospel music. This works out perfectly.” His glance skated over her, and for a moment, she wondered if he felt as uncomfortable around her as she did around him.
“Do you know the way to Charlie’s place?” Jace asked.
Close to His Heart Page 4