by Glynna Kaye
Deep breath.
She lowered her hands, willing them to stop shaking and her heart rate to slow down.
This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass.
Denny and Taylor would be wondering what happened to her. Forcing herself to move forward, she quickly retrieved Taylor’s sweater from a nearby classroom. Then on unsteady legs, she hurried back to the auditorium and out the front door to where Denny and Taylor awaited her.
The little girl’s hand was clasped in his.
Were people noticing? Wondering? Assuming, like the two gossipmongers, that Denny was the latest man in her life? And that he was walking down the gangplank, unaware the runaway bride was about to shove him off?
“Here’s your sweater.” She handed it to Taylor, who released Denny’s hand to take it. “Ready to go?”
“Mister wants to take us out to eat.” Her niece looked up at him with open affection.
Wonderful. No way was she going to be seen around town with Denny Hunter after that encounter outside the Sunday-school rooms. She had a reputation to preserve, and people reviving something that had happened months ago didn’t bode well for her job prospects.
She returned Denny’s uncertain smile. “Thanks for the invitation. That’s sweet of you. But it’s been a long week, and I think I’d better get Taylor home, fix a light supper and get her to bed at a decent hour.”
“But Mister wants—”
“Taylor.” Lillian gave her “the look.” Her niece frowned but ceased to whine.
Denny walked them to her car, and with every single step she was aware of those still lingering in the parking lot after the rehearsal. Felt all the eyes on her and the handsome Hunter.
It was considerate of him to invite them to dinner. It had been a long, stressful week—mostly due to Denny’s unexpected arrival—and it would be nice not to have to go home and fix a meal. But she wasn’t about to risk being seen with him.
When she got Taylor situated in the back seat, she turned to Denny. “Thanks again for coming tonight. You made a little girl very, very happy.”
“And her genuine delight made a big boy very, very happy. She’s a great kid.”
“She is.”
“If you could do me a favor, though...” He lowered his voice. “Please don’t let her get her hopes up that I’ll be there for her Sunday service program, too. I wouldn’t want her to be disappointed.”
“I’ll make sure she understands.”
“Thanks.”
“And thank you again for offering to take us out to eat. It’s that, you know...tonight’s not... It won’t work out.”
“I understand.” He stepped away and waved to Taylor. “See you both later.”
Lillian had driven but a block when she looked in the rearview mirror at her niece. “What do you say we surprise Aunt Viola by picking up pizza for supper?”
Both Aunt Vi and Taylor loved pizza.
But no cheer came from the back seat.
Chapter Seven
“Get over it, Hunter,” Denny mumbled under his breath three days later as he reflected again on the last time he’d seen Taylor and Lillian.
He’d almost fallen over when Taylor announced that he wanted to take her and Lillian out to eat. Where had that come from? Not out of his mouth. As she’d looked up at him with such hope in her eyes, though, he’d quickly concluded it was a pretty good idea after all. But before he could get the words out, Lillian made sure he clearly understood it wasn’t such a hot suggestion.
It wasn’t like he was asking Lillian out on a date or something. In fact, he hadn’t asked her and Taylor out at all. But the sting of rejection irritated, like a scratchy T-shirt.
“Den! We could use your help over here.”
“Sure ’nuff.” He abandoned the table umbrellas he’d been setting up on the huge patio in back of the Inn at Hunter’s Hideaway and headed to where cousins Luke and Grady and some dude named Sawyer Banks, who ran an outdoor gear shop, were wrangling the setup of a sound stage. A regional country-and-western band was scheduled to start belting out songs from there that afternoon and into the evening.
He’d never been one for that kind of music. Give him a full symphony orchestra or easy jazz any day. But with speakers thumping out country hits since he’d first joined the laboring Hunters on Saturday morning, he could admit it might be growing on him. And the scent of barbecued beef and pork sizzling in the huge barrel grills today sealed the deal. No offense, Beethoven.
“You’ve come in pretty handy the past few days,” Luke commented as they pounded the sound-stage flooring into place and stepped back to admire their handiwork. “I have to admit I’m kind of surprised a city slicker who drives a Porsche knows so much about tearing things apart and putting them back together.”
Luke, a big guy about six or seven years Denny’s senior and now a father of four, had been in the armed services when Denny visited here the last time as a twelve-year-old. So he didn’t have memories of Luke. Now Grady and Garrett, those two were a different matter. Back then, the three of them had gotten off on the wrong foot from the word go. Thankfully, Grady had mellowed considerably in the intervening years and gotten himself married. Old animosities might not yet be swept under the rug, but nobody was trying to punch out anybody’s lights by this point.
Not that Denny thought Charlotte Gyles had been forgiven for her perceived wrongdoing. Luke had earlier openly addressed the hard feelings she’d left behind when she’d walked out on his uncle Doug, dragged Denny off with her and snatched Hunter properties with the help of her high-powered lawyers. Denny got the distinct impression that as her son—being half Hunter—he’d be tolerated only as long as he minded his p’s and q’s. It was like being on probation of sorts.
“I’ve spent a lot of years behind the hotel industry scenes,” he reminded his cousin. “Scouting structures and envisioning them repurposed. I find great pleasure in taking something that isn’t working as well as it could and giving it a brand-new life.”
Grady laughed. “Kind of a God-like perspective, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.” He’d never thought of it that way. Not that he was opposed to God or anything.
“Hey, kids!” Uncle Dave, his dad’s older brother, stood at the back entrance to the inn. Denny would have given just about anything to have had a dad like him. “When you finish up here, get back to the table setup so the gals have time to fancy them up before our guests start arriving.”
“Why are the gals always responsible for making things pretty?” A spunky blonde appeared at her dad’s side, her hands on her hips in a show of defiance. It was Denny’s cousin Rio, who’d been about a year old when he’d last visited. A top-notch handler of horses, she was in college now and engaged to a cowboy who worked with the horse operation at the Hideaway. She and Cash Herrera would be wed in December.
“Because, Rio,” big brother Luke drawled, “you’ll wait into next year if you think one of us can top you and the other ladies in that department. Although—” he cut a look in Denny’s direction “—this one can draw pretty pictures if you need some.”
The other men laughed. So much for getting any respect for the photographed sketches of the inn he’d shared yesterday. Speaking of which, he still hadn’t heard anything from his mother, either positive or negative. Maybe she and Elden had taken off for a three-day weekend, although he didn’t know how far his mother was supposed to get from rehab.
When they’d finished table setup and the ladies moved in to take over, he headed back to the cabin shortly after noon to get cleaned up. His cousins took no prisoners when it came to their sense of humor at his expense—as his brief riding lesson yesterday afternoon would attest.
Nor could he say he felt at ease among them. He was getting the impression they were keeping an eye on his every move. But oddly, their ribbing felt good. There
had never been much in the way of camaraderie in the Gyles household. No bonding.
A brother of the heart would never have done to Denny what Vic had done to him.
Back at the sprawling, pine-shaded patio, now dotted with open-umbrella tables and fresh flowers, the band was tuning up and a sizable crowd had already gathered. It had been a few years since the Hunter clan had hosted one of these charity deals, so excitement ran high. Apparently a Hunter-hosted bash was historically known to top them all.
Overhead, dark clouds gathered, and there was some grumbling that a stray monsoon thundershower might be in store. But he got the impression that rain for the surrounding forest would nevertheless be welcomed. It was gorgeous country that his Hunter side of the family called home, and its peaceful beauty began to seep down inside him.
“Mister!”
Already smiling before he turned in Taylor’s direction, he couldn’t help but feel more wanted by her than either of his families made him feel. There was something about being greeted like a long-lost friend by a sweet kid that assured him he had a right to be alive. That he belonged.
“Howdy there, little missy.” Ugh. He was starting to sound like a country boy. Too many golden-oldie country-and-western hits.
Taylor trotted up to him. “Did you bring your ticket?”
He felt around in his pocket, then produced it. It was battered, but in one piece. “Right here.”
“Lemme see your number. You can win a prize.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“You’re 1566.” After studying it intently, she handed the ticket back to him, then turned and called into the crowd, “Aunt Lillian, Mister remembered his ticket.”
Seated at a nearby table with her back to them, Lillian rose somewhat reluctantly. She probably still thought he’d been asking her out a few nights ago and didn’t want to encourage his attention. Like he’d be inclined to get involved with a small-town librarian? Nope. No, thanks.
“Denny does have a name, Taylor.” She cast him an apologetic look as she joined them.
He smiled, noticing how she’d swept her hair up, tiny silver hoop earrings peeping out from beneath a few stray strands of dark hair. “Mister works fine, too.”
Taylor tugged on his sleeve. “You stay here with Aunt Lillian so she doesn’t get lost. I have to help Aunt Vi. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Denny tilted his head. “So you’re inclined to get lost?”
She shook her head. “I told her when we were parking out front that I hoped I could find my car come nightfall. That lot is packed.”
“You’re in safe hands. I have pretty good night vision.” He winked. “And a flashlight in my car.”
She smiled, and he noticed for the first time the dimple in her cheek. Sweet.
“Have you heard from your mother yet?”
“Not yet. Hopefully first thing tomorrow.”
“And Todd’s available?”
“We’re having a meeting of the minds tomorrow. I’d like him to take the lead on getting the required permits and lining up his choice of crew. Getting the suppliers on board. This has to be a fast turnaround to wrap it up before your friend Barbie’s wedding.”
Ironically, the third weekend in October was Vic and Corrine’s wedding day, too. Would they breathe a sigh of relief when they received his declined RSVP?
“I’m sorry that’s creating pressure for you, Denny. I’m not trying to be difficult about not asking her to change locations, but this is an especially critical event we can’t risk defaulting on.”
“You and Viola are the experts on local land mines. I’ll do my best, and it sounds as if you’re sure Todd will do his.”
“You’re staying in Hunter Ridge until everything’s done, right?”
Where had she gotten that idea?
“Once I’m assured of Todd’s understanding of the project, I’ll move on to responsibilities elsewhere. And check in regularly, of course.”
In the background, the band’s opening number rocked to a halt, and a fast-talking MC—his dad?—took the microphone and rattled off a welcome and details about the intended charity, door prizes and such. But Denny tuned it out when a troubled look passed through Lillian’s eyes.
“Something wrong?” Surely after that quick rejection of his non-invitation the other night, she wouldn’t be sad to see him depart Hunter Ridge.
“Taylor. She’s getting attached to you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind her hanging around.”
“What I mean is, she’s going to be let down when you leave.”
Then he remembered how her mother would come and go in and out of her life, and it felt like a mule kicked him.
“She’s not that attached to me. There hasn’t been enough time.”
“Time enough.”
“So you don’t want her to hang out with me when I’m at the inn? She has her heart set on kicking down walls.”
“I know. And I don’t want to drive a wedge between you two. But I do ask that you be up-front and clear about how long you’ll be staying. Don’t let her get the impression that it’s going to be longer than it is. Kids build things up in their minds. They have active dream worlds where everything works out the way they want it to.”
Didn’t he know it? But the fruitlessness of it finally gets hammered home and you focus on what you can control. Had Lillian been that way? Dreaming of a home and a relationship with her parents that they were incapable of providing? He’d been blown away to hear that her folks were well-known motivational speakers.
“I’ll be careful around her.” But he didn’t like knowing a little kid was looking to him for something he couldn’t deliver.
“Thank you.” Lillian held his gaze for a long moment as if assessing his sincerity, then glanced anxiously around at the crowd. “Where did she get off to, anyway? I thought she said she’d be right back.”
“She said she was helping your aunt Vi, so she’s safe and sound.”
“I’d better make sure. Hunter Ridge may be a small town, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t without its dangers. And events like this draw people from all over.”
“She’s fine, Lillian.” Why the worry? Nobody would dare lay a hand on the kid with all the Hunters and their pals packed in around here.
“You don’t—”
“Mister! They called your number! You won a cowboy hat!”
“Great!” Having absolutely no idea what he’d do with it, he nevertheless gave the excited little girl a half-hearted smile. He’d get laughed out of the office if he showed up in a cowboy hat.
* * *
Lillian had to admit that although Denny said he felt silly wearing it—and Taylor insisted he did—he looked good in the hat. He seemed more relaxed today than he had last week, too. Maybe the slower pace of Hunter Ridge was rubbing off on him?
While they didn’t hang out together—she was still ever-conscious of the Friday evening gossip at the church—she found herself periodically searching him out in the crowd. He might be talking to his cousins or half siblings, aunts and uncles. Or helping haul in more chairs. They even had him serving up barbecue at one point. Leave it to the Hunters to work him into their big, loving family.
As nice as it was seeing the “long-lost Hunter” interact with family as day moved into nighttime, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. She didn’t know her own aunts, uncles or cousins well. Seldom saw her parents. And then there was Annalise.
What am I supposed to do about Taylor, Lord?
She glanced over at her niece, who was playing tic-tac-toe with Aunt Vi. Not romping and playing with the other kids taking part in organized potato sack and egg races. As usual, she’d stuck close throughout the afternoon, perking up when she glimpsed Denny as he passed by with a wink and a wave.
He didn’t pause to speak t
o her niece, though, and Lillian knew that was her doing. Had she hurt his feelings by asking him to be cautious around Taylor? She didn’t mean to come across as if she thought he’d deliberately and callously connected with her, knowing it would break her heart when he left.
“Aunt Lillian?” Taylor called over the rhythm of the band. “I think Aunt Viola is ready to go home.”
The little girl nodded toward the elderly woman who, halfway through the Xs and Os, had fallen asleep in her chair.
Should she let her sleep awhile before waking her and attempting to get her out to the car? Earlier she’d suggested taking her home well before dark, but Aunt Viola protested, saying she was doing fine and enjoying herself.
Or had she said that because Todd had sat down with them to chat a bit, and she still had him at the top of her potentials list for her niece?
Taylor was looking a little drowsy, too.
Lillian got to her feet and held out her tote. “Will you please carry this for me, Taylor?” Then leaning down, she softly kissed Aunt Viola’s forehead and her eyes fluttered open.
“We need to get Taylor home, Aunt Vi. Tomorrow’s a school day.”
“Oh, my, yes.” She sat up with a slight grimace. “I can’t believe I nodded off with that band blazing away. I must be getting old.”
“Never.”
Lillian helped her aunt to her feet, and they said their goodbyes to those at their table. She was relieved that once they reached the far edge of the patio, the walkway leading to the parking lot was lit by squat solar lights. Slipping her arm around her aunt’s waist to steady her, she began the journey around the far side of the building.
She glanced up at the starry night sky and was thankful the earlier monsoon clouds had moved on without a deluge. A prayer of hope formed. If only she could get that permanent librarian position and the inn would become profitable. Then maybe she’d dare to seriously approach Annalise about custody. Adoption, even. She’d once hinted at it when Taylor was small. How she’d be happy to relieve her sister of the concern for a child. But Annalise had glibly thanked her for the offer and said she’d never saddle her older sister with full-time kid responsibilities.