by Emily March
Tucker stared at her. He couldn’t help himself. Her lips were wet and swollen. Her blue eyes luminous and soft. It took all his willpower to stop himself from swooping in again.
She fussed with her hair and then returned her attention to the trunk. “So, what else is in here? You said it’s right up my alley?”
“Yeah.” He folded back the cotton fabric lying atop the trunk’s contents and revealed the gown underneath. He picked up the dress by the shoulders and stood. Gleaming ivory satin flowed from the chest like a waterfall.
“A wedding gown!” Gillian exclaimed with delight. The dress had a high neck and long sleeves and a bodice covered in beads and lace. The waist was tiny. The train long enough to cover a good chunk of the cave’s floor. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thought you’d like it.”
“Don’t you wonder how it got here? I wonder if it was worn at a wedding and tucked away as a keepsake. Or has it ever been worn? Did you see any stains on it?”
“I didn’t look all that closely.”
“Oh, man. I’d love to know its history!” Gillian began inspecting the gown carefully, studying the seams, wondering aloud about the seamstress who made it and the woman for whom it had been made. “Maybe a young bride was traveling to meet her groom, and your Reverend Fluesche robbed her stagecoach. Or maybe she was a runaway bride who ended up on hard times.”
“A fallen lady at the Last Chance brothel on the road to Ruin.” Tucker shot her a grin. “My family has been passing down a story about a bad-luck wedding dress for a hundred and twenty-five years.”
She looked up from the dress just long enough to grin at him. “A bad-luck wedding dress? Really?”
“Apparently an ancestor was a seamstress who made it. I’ll tell you about it over dinner. We should probably start thinking about making our way back. Dark comes on fast this time of year.”
“Okay.” Gillian gave the gown one last wistful look, then handed it over to him. She watched his pitiful attempt to fold the garment and shook her head. “Let me do it.”
“I know how to fold things. I was in the army.”
“And I work with trains every day. Is there anything else in the trunk? Show me while I’m folding the gown.”
“That’s pretty much it. The only other item is a man’s shaving kit.” He showed her the razor, brush, cup, and strop, then tucked them back away before helping her return the wedding gown to the trunk.
“I can’t believe you’ve just left these treasures here,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll have the trunk moved now that it’s served my purposes.”
“Purposes?”
“Lured you up to show you my proverbial etchings, didn’t I?”
Her mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “Lured? Browbeat me is more to the truth.”
Gillian was digging in her backpack when he slipped the watch chain and hair combs into his own. He didn’t do it because he was suddenly worried about Enchanted Canyon tourists stumbling across this hidden cave and stealing from the chest. He did it because he was going to hang his gold watch from this chain and mark the occasion. Then, after dinner when he took her home and kissed her good night on her front porch, he’d gift her with the combs. Not as a bribe to be invited inside. It was way too soon for that.
He hadn’t sent her flowers or bought her chocolates. The combs would be his Valentine’s Day gift to her. With any luck, they’d be the first of many Valentine’s Day gifts he would give to her.
Strategic planning. Tactical moves. Operation Horny Toad, full speed ahead.
Chapter Eleven
In the minutes following the kiss, Gillian’s four years of high school drama class paid off. Outwardly, she remained calm, cool, and collected. Inside, she was an emotional gob of goo. Tucker had kissed her again. She’d kissed him back. And enjoyed it. A lot.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Stop. This was trouble. She wasn’t ready for this.
As they retraced their steps heading back toward Tucker’s truck, Gillian ignored all the bounties of nature that she’d noticed on the way in. This time, she didn’t hear the sound of the distant waterfall or smell the musty scent of decay as they traversed the wooded section of the trail. She barely took note of the tree roots crisscrossing their path, which required stepping over, and certainly didn’t notice the dapple of sunlight and shadow on the forest floor. She was totally lost in thought.
She’d been ready for his mild flirtations and over-the-top compliments. They’d been balm for her wounded heart, and she’d done nothing to shut them down. Were she honest with herself, she would admit she’d encouraged them. But this kiss? This kiss had been way more than mild flirtation or roadside impulse. This kiss from Tucker had blindsided her. It had been ten thousand watts of raw energy that knocked her new hiking boots off and heated her blood and recharged nerves that had been dead since the breakup. Shoot, even before the breakup.
Had Jeremy’s kiss ever jolted her this way? If so, it was too long ago to remember.
That truth unsettled her and distracted her. Inattentive to the trail, when her new boot skidded on loose gravel of a rockslide during a section that climbed along the canyon wall, her reaction was sluggish. The next few seconds passed as if in slow motion, though it happened very fast.
“Nyah!” she exclaimed when she lost her balance and knew she was going down. In her peripheral vision, she saw Tucker whip his head around in alarm.
Thud. Pain jarred her shoulder and hip as she landed on her side and rolled and slid downhill until a dusty, windswept pile of brittle leaves slowed her momentum and pillowed her crash into a boulder. “Oomph.”
“Gillian!” Tucker scrambled sure-footed down the hill.
She sat up, sneezed twice, and was attempting to stand when he reached her and steadied her with his hands around her waist. “Hold still, honey. Are you hurt? What hurts?”
“My pride.” She found her footing and balance.
“Anything else?” His gaze skimmed over her. “Ankle? Arm? Shoulder?”
She wanted to massage her butt, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She pushed his hands away. “No, seriously. I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
She wasn’t about to explain her inattention either. With a bit of snippy in her voice, she said, “The greenhorn in me surfaced. I told you I don’t do the outdoors.”
His lips twitched. “Well, yeah, it does appear that the outdoors got the better of you.” He flicked some leaves out of her hair, then thumbed dirt off her cheek. “You’re a mess. You’ve scratched yourself.”
Then, instead of dropping his hand, he sank his fingers into her hair, cupped the back of her head, and tenderly kissed her cheek. “Better?”
Her mouth had gone as dry as the leaves at her feet. “Mmm.”
“Good,” he murmured against her face before his lips trailed butterfly kisses across her cheek to her mouth.
Trouble. I am in so much trouble.
Her knees turned to mush, and she swayed a bit and came close to losing her balance again. Tucker’s hand returned to her waist and steadied her. The one buried in her hair slid down to her shoulder. He released her lips and lifted his head. “Just so you know, anytime you need someone to kiss your boo-boos, I’m available.”
A dozen different protests twirled on her tongue, but the one most insistent made it onto her lips. “A month ago, my wedding day was two days away.”
“Scrambled your brains, did you? Did you hit your head on the boulder? Or is it my kiss that does it to you? I like that answer better.”
“You can’t be kissing me like this. It isn’t right.”
He frowned at her. “Why not? Your wedding day isn’t two days away now, is it?”
“Yes. Well, no. But yes.”
“Seriously, did you bump your head?”
“No! Well, maybe a little bit, but not enough to scramble my brains. You did that all by yourself.”
“Well, then.” Pleased, he tipped his imaginative hat. �
��Thank ya, ma’am.”
“Oh!” she snapped in embarrassment and frustration, then pushed past him and started back up the incline toward the trail. Once there, she began to lead the way.
A few seconds later, Tucker called, “Gillian? You’re going the wrong way. The trail to the canyon floor takes an upward jag right here for a short distance.”
She stopped and grumbled, “I knew I should have gone for a pedicure instead of a hike.”
“So, you like to have your toes played with? I’ll have to file that piece of intel away for future reference.”
A whip of wintery wind swept over the landscape as she looked at him and fisted her hands at her hips. “Would you stop harassing me, please?”
“Harassing? Whoa.” All signs of teasing disappeared as Tucker held up his hands, palms out. “Did I cross a line, Gillian? If so, I apologize. Sincerely. I guess I read your signals wrong. I thought this was a mutual flirtation that you were enjoying.”
Shame washed over her. “It is. That’s the problem.”
She kicked at a stone with the toe of her boot and attempted to explain. “Tucker, it’s too soon. My breakup was less than a month ago. For me to be this into you … what does that say about me? About my judgment? Was I wrong about what I felt for him? If not, then how can I be so fickle and enjoy you so much this soon? If I was wrong about my feelings, then how can I trust myself about anything? Especially men? I was going to marry him! The day after tomorrow!”
Tucker pursed his lips, folded his arms, and studied her. After a long moment, he said, “I have a few arguments I could make, but they can wait. I do understand where you are coming from. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and again, I apologize if I’ve pressed too hard, too fast. A strategic error on my part.” His mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile and added, “I don’t make those very often. You knocked me off my game, Glory.”
“It’s not you. It’s me.”
His smile went crooked. “The relationship death knell.”
Turning her head away, she focused her gaze on the towering wall of layered rock on the far side of the canyon as she searched within herself for words. She needed to get them right.
From out of nowhere, tears stung her eyes. She looked at Tucker imploringly. “Don’t you see? I don’t need a relationship right now, but I do need a friend. I don’t want to screw up our friendship.”
It took a long moment for him to respond. His expression was unreadable to her. “You want to be friends. Just friends.”
“Yes.” Please, Tucker. Something within her relaxed when the teasing twinkle returned to his fawn-colored eyes.
“With benefits?” When she sighed with exasperation, he added, “I didn’t think so.” Nevertheless, his smile was tender, his tone sincere as he stepped toward her and took her hands in his. “I’m pleased to be your friend, Gillian Thacker. Just your friend. For now. Until you’re ready for something more.”
She swallowed hard. “I may never be ready for anything more, Tucker. You shouldn’t count on otherwise.”
“Consider me duly warned.”
Bittersweet relief eased through her. “Great. Thank you.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh, then said, “Just to be clear, does being just friends mean no more kissing?”
She rolled her eyes. “No more kissing!”
The crestfallen little boy’s look he teased her with ignited a devilish desire within her. She couldn’t help but indulge it. “Although, since it’s Valentine’s Day, and you saved me from stupid Cupid, maybe we could have one for the road. Or, the trail, as it were.”
She went up on her toes, slipped her hand around the back of his neck, pulled his head toward her, and proceeded to kiss him senseless. She felt powerful when she finally released him, and he stepped back dazedly. Off the trail. He lost his footing and fell on his ass. She laughed as she reached out a hand and helped pull him to his feet.
Gillian grinned all the way back to the spot where he’d left his truck. Her happiness lasted through dinner and the ride back to Redemption. There, in the spirit of friendship, she’d insisted he kick her out at the curb rather than walk her to the front door like he’d wanted.
Her good mood lasted, and she remained relatively upbeat even when she awoke on Saturday morning. She didn’t get teary until her mother, her aunt, Maisy, Caroline, and Angelica Blessing showed up with plane tickets in hand and abduction on their minds.
Ten hours later, she joined them in hurrying through the frigid evening air on the grounds of Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa in Eternity Springs, Colorado, headed for the resort’s hot springs pools.
“Oh, wow, isn’t this fabulous?” Gillian said as she sank into the steaming water and gazed up at the star-filled sky.
Maisy nodded her agreement as she set a tin tub filled with ice and two bottles of champagne beside the pool. “I’m a warm-weather girl as a rule, but there’s something sublime about soaking in outdoor hot springs when the air is freezing cold.”
“Sheer luxury,” Barbara Thacker added. She went to work filling plastic glasses sporting the Angel’s Rest logo with bubbly and passing them around, one for each of them. “This is such a darling little town.”
Angelica whipped a tie-dyed caftan over her head and tossed it toward a nearby bench where she’d left her towel. “My cousin calls it a little piece of heaven in the Colorado Rockies.”
From out of the darkness, Celeste said, “It is exactly that.” She stepped into the light carrying a tray filled with more glasses. “It’s a slice of heaven on earth. Now, I want you all to be sure to drink water along with your champagne. Mixing alcohol and hot springs puts one at risk of dehydration.”
“Yes, Mother,” Angelica said.
“Now now, cousin, don’t be snotty. Not everyone tolerates heat and champagne as well as you do.” To the others, she added, “I’ve always assumed that her devilishness factors into her body temperature regulation.”
“Cousin?” Angelic drawled. “Like we say in the South—bless your heart.”
At that point, Caroline jumped in and played referee by sighing with satisfaction and observing, “I love Eternity Springs when there’s snow on the ground. It’s like a little Victorian snow village. You feel like you’ve stepped right into a Hallmark card.”
“I’ll bet it’ll be beautiful here in June too,” Gillian said. “On your wedding day.”
The words wedding day hung in the crisp mountain air like a bubble of sulfur. The love shown her by family and friends had kept her tears at bay all day, but as Gillian felt the weight of the other women’s concerned gazes, she could hold them back no longer and her eyes overflowed.
“Oh, baby.” Barbara sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” Tears spilled down Gillian’s cheek.
“Don’t be sorry,” Maisy said. “You have every right to cry today.”
“You need to cry,” Caroline added. “Today of all days, you need to cry and curse and grouse and grieve and get the poison out of your system.”
“We’re here to listen to you, Gillian.” Angelica lifted her champagne glass in a toast. “If you want to tell us all what a lowdown, scum-sucking, snake-belly, rat-whisker, roach-knee, louse-liver guy that Jeremy is, well, we’re ready to listen. And contribute, if you’d like.”
“Louse-liver?” Maisy mused. “I like that one.”
Before anyone else spoke up, Celeste handed Gillian a glass of water. “Drink your water, dear, and then sip your champagne, and share what you need from us tonight.”
Gillian swiped the tears from her cheeks, drained the water glass as instructed, then sipped the bubbly wine and debated how to answer Celeste’s question. Finally, she said, “I’m not crying over Jeremy. Truly, I’m not. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’d have called the wedding off if he hadn’t done it first. I’m crying because, well, I had a dream and it died.”
“That’s true,” her mother, always a tough love champ
ion, said. “Mourn that dream tonight, and tomorrow, start seeking a new dream.”
“I’m afraid that’s easier said than done. I worry about my own judgment. For a long time, I thought he was perfect for me. I thought he loved me and that he wanted the life I wanted. I thought he and I could build a family and a future together and that we’d be happy. How could I have been so wrong? Obviously, I can’t trust my own instincts. Did y’all notice red flags flying that I overlooked? Seriously, I want to know.”
Following a moment of silence, Aunt Cathy said, “I never thought you were making a mistake by marrying Jeremy. He seemed to make you happy, and that’s what I cared about.”
“Mom?” Gillian asked.
“I agree with my sister. Were there things about him I didn’t particularly care for? Yes. Of course. You are my baby girl, and no man is ever going to be good enough for you. But I didn’t think he would make you unhappy.”
Gillian asked, “What about Dad? I don’t think Dad liked him.”
“That’s complicated,” her mother replied. “You’re his princess. But I think what Dad didn’t like about Jeremy is more Dad’s problem than his. Dad had some business dealings with Jeremy’s grandfather that didn’t end well. I think it’s more a case of your father unfairly casting sins-of-the-father type of blame upon Jeremy because of that rather than anything Jeremy did. Well, except for the golf.”
Gillian straightened. “Golf?”
Barbara shrugged. “Dad doesn’t like to play with him.”
“Why?”
When Barbara didn’t respond right away, Caroline spoke up. “He cheated when he played with Jackson.”
Gillian sighed. “Tucker told me about that. Did Jeremy cheat when he played with Dad?”
“Yes. Yes, he did,” Barbara said.
“Did he cheat in any way besides golf?”
“Not that I ever heard,” Barbara said definitively.
“Me either,” Maisy added. “And something like that is hard to hide in Redemption.”
Gillian released a relieved breath. That particular betrayal would be the cherry on top of this foul-tasting dessert. She’d never once suspected Jeremy of sleeping with another woman. Scarred by his own father’s serial philandering, Jeremy had never hesitated to denounce infidelity.