by Emily March
“Okay, then.” Gillian took a sip of her champagne. “So what else? Angelica? I know he led a couple of team-building programs for bank employees at the inn. What did you think of Jeremy?”
“Well, if you want to know the truth, I—”
Celeste interrupted by cautioning, “Angelica, stick to the facts.”
Her voice filled with affront, Angelica replied, “I wouldn’t lie to the girl.”
“Take care in what truths you tell her,” Celeste snapped. “Your truth is not always the truth.”
“Sure it is.” Angelica sniffed with disdain. “You may be the wise woman among us, Celeste, but I know things, and you can’t deny it. However, Gillian didn’t ask me what I know. She asked me what I think of Jeremy. Two different questions entirely.”
Angelica looked directly at Gillian and said, “I don’t see any sense in dancing around the truth. Yes, I think Jeremy is a louse. He’s a weak, selfish man. Gillian, you missed a bullet.”
“Well.” Fresh tears filled Gillian’s eyes. “I asked, didn’t I?”
“Now, now, dear,” Celeste interjected. “Perhaps your Jeremy was a flawed man, but we are all flawed individuals.”
Angelica lifted her champagne in toast and interrupted right back. “My cousin is right. Jeremy is definitely flawed, but he’s not a total villain. He loved you, Gillian. I believe he intended to be a good husband to you. But relationships require honesty, and he gets a big fat F in that.”
Warning in her voice, Celeste said, “You’re not helping, Angelica.”
“Sure I am. Lance the boil and all of that. Jeremy is a carbuncle on honesty’s butt. Gillian needs to face that particular truth.”
“What she needs is time for her heart to heal.”
“I know. That’s why we brought her here to Eternity Springs. This is where broken hearts come to heal, right, cousin?”
“That is correct.”
“And healing happens fastest after you pop the pimple.”
“That’s disgusting imagery, Angelica.”
“It’s straight talk. It’s honesty. That’s what Gillian needs. She needs her friends and family to be honest with her, and she needs to be honest with herself. That’s the answer to your original question, Celeste.”
“Except I’m not asking you, I’m asking her,” Celeste snapped back. She visibly summoned her patience, then smiled gently at Gillian. “So, back to my original question, what do you need from your friends and family both tonight and going forward, Gillian?”
Gillian glanced at Angelica, who rolled her eyes and then winked at her. Suddenly, Gillian’s tears evaporated. From deep down inside, laughter bubbled up and broke free. “This. This is what I need. My family, my friends, and the nicest gesture of support I could possibly have imagined.”
She found her feet on the bottom of the hot springs pool and rose. The cold night air made her shiver, but the love in her heart kept her warm.
She lifted her champagne glass and spoke. “This is not the speech I had intended to make tonight, but maybe this is the one I’m supposed to make. I want you all to know how much you mean to me. How much I appreciate the caring and the effort and expense to make this trip happen. Celeste, I love your home. Angel’s Rest is a fabulous place, your hospitality is divine, and nothing beats a hug from you. It warms me from the inside out. Angelica, Maisy, and Caroline, I wouldn’t have made it through this past month without your friendship. You were there for me during the wedding planning and now in the breakup. I don’t have words to express how grateful I am to be your friend. I love you dearly.”
“We love you too,” Maisy replied.
Gillian turned toward her family. “And finally, Mom and Aunt Cathy. My mother and bonus mom. I could talk for hours about all the wonderful things you’ve done for me throughout my life, but then everyone would turn into prunes. You are my champions. You are my most fearsome supporters. Your love has sustained me and strengthened me throughout my entire life. Thank you. I love you.”
Gillian lifted her glass higher and finished, “To you, my friends and family. My tribe. Y’all are the most magnificent women in the world. I adore you. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” they all exclaimed.
Angelica added, “Somebody open another bottle of champagne.”
Later, Gillian and Angelica brought up the end of the line as the group walked back to their guest rooms in the main house of the resort, wrapped in the warm, fur-lined robes Angel’s Rest provided for the short journey from the hot springs to the house. Slipping her arm through Angelica’s, amazingly mellow for a jilted bride on what was to have been her wedding night, Gillian observed, “People say you have an uncanny instinct about the future.”
“It’s true. I do. It’s a gift.”
“About that happy year you predicted?”
“It’s gonna happen.”
“How do you know? What do you know?”
“Oh, my dear. I’m glad you asked.” She halted and brought up her free hand to cover Gillian’s and give it a squeeze. “I know because it’s my gift. I know that this broken engagement needed to happen. Marriage to Jeremy would have brought you tepid happiness, but never unbounded joy. That is meant for another. I know Eternity Springs will help your heart to heal and your soul will find peace in Enchanted Canyon. It will not happen overnight, but it will happen. Only then will you be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Your soul mate, dear. He is there waiting for you.”
“There? Where?”
“Why, at home, of course. Deep in the heart of Texas.”
Gillian felt a flutter of anticipation as an image formed in her mind. Tucker McBride.
No. No no no no no. It was too soon. Way too soon. How could she be thinking about Tucker tonight of all nights?
No, Angelica was sweet as can be, but this fortune-teller thing she had going on was silly. She couldn’t predict the future. A soul mate? Did Gillian even believe in such a thing? Soul mates?
Probably not. However, the idea was lovely. A pleasant dream. Eternity Springs had an atmosphere about it that this was a place where dreams came true. Where broken hearts healed. So for tonight—this big fat hairy monster of a night—when she climbed into her comfy bed in Eternity Springs, she would believe in pleasant dreams. In soul mates.
She dreamed about Tucker McBride.
Chapter Twelve
Weeks passed, temperatures rose, and thunderstorms built and blew across Texas as winter transitioned to spring. Deep in the Hill Country, wildflowers nurtured by a healthy amount of rainfall and blessed by a mild winter painted the land in a riot of color. As usual, the show of nature’s glory brought out the tourists. Cars and trucks clogged the roadways with visitors ready to participate in the Texas rite of spring—plopping children and pets down in patches of bluebonnets for photographs.
The new season also brought a change to Tucker’s schedule. To use one of his grandfather’s old sayings, spring had him busy as a long-tailed cat on a porch full of rocking chairs at a family reunion. Interest in the Enchanted Canyon Wilderness School had exceeded expectations. He’d had full classes each weekend for more than a month now, and business at the shop in town had been good enough to justify hiring full-time help. Thank goodness.
He’d needed to spend less time across the courtyard from Bliss. If sexual frustration could kill a man, Gillian Thacker’s friendship might well be the death of him. Operation Horny Toad, indeed. He couldn’t have picked a more appropriate operation name if he’d debated the choice for a decade.
Following their Valentine’s Day outing, he’d seen her almost every day. She would drop by the shop for a visit, or he’d join her for her lunchtime walk with Peaches or stop by Bliss to filch an afternoon snack before heading for the canyon to do some prep work for the classes. Somewhere along the way, he tumbled from wanting to needing, and from liking to caring. He wasn’t making much progress in the impatient-to-patient department, however. The need for self-restrain
t just might kill him.
They hadn’t kissed since Valentine’s Day. She went out of her way to keep things light and friendly. He watched like a hungry hawk for a signal that she was ready to take their relationship up a notch from friends, but so far, she seemed content with the status quo. Dammit. He was beginning to second-guess his strategic decision to allow her to set the pace. It might be time to call an audible, and the next forty-eight hours or so could present the perfect opportunity for it.
She and her BFFs had registered for his Wilderness Survival 101 class and dubbed it the “Girls Getting Grubby Weekend.” She’d even had pink T-shirts made. Tucker wasn’t sure that Enchanted Canyon Wilderness School was ready for the “Dirty Girls.”
The campus sat on forty-two wooded acres nestled in the northwest section of Enchanted Canyon that had lain unpopulated since the Comanche roamed the land. Within its boundaries, the spring-fed Blanchard Creek flowed year-round and meandered through a bottom area that included some massive old-growth pecan trees. Together with the bottomlands, rolling hills covered in white oak, cedar elm, and mesquites provided a natural habitat for an abundance of wildlife including white-tailed deer, axis, turkeys, bobcats, raccoons, foxes, coyotes, and rabbits. In the sky, one could spot red-tailed hawks, barred owls, pileated woodpeckers, and numerous other species of birds. Native edible and medicinal plants included turk’s cap, chile pequin, prickly pear, wood sorrel, sugarberry, dewberry, cucumber plant, toothache tree, wafer ash, pokeweed, and more. In other words, it was an undisturbed Eden—perfect for Tucker’s purposes.
He’d put quite a bit of thought into what structures he should erect on the campus. He wanted to keep it minimal, but within days of launching their website, they identified a strong demand for children’s programs. He’d expanded that part of his business plan due in large part to his enjoyment of working with Haley over the winter. Working with kids, however, required amenities he might have skipped had he planned to work only with adults. So by March, ECWS boasted two indoor bathrooms with attached showers, two covered outdoor classrooms, and a two-room building with an office and a dedicated first aid room. Not surprisingly, he’d discovered that having indoor restroom facilities increased demand from female students by about a million percent.
Indoor plumbing was the only reason why he expected the Dirty Girls’ arrival at any moment. Gillian had made it quite clear she was not a porta potty person.
“She’s not much of a dirty girl either,” he muttered as he stacked wood in the fire pit down in the pecan bottoms. The idea to attend his Survival 101 class had been Caroline’s, not Gillian’s. Caroline had come to him seeking help not long after she’d returned from the “Distract Gillian” trip to Eternity Springs.
“She’s lost confidence in herself,” his soon-to-be cousin-in-law had shared. “That’s the worst thing Jeremy has done. She’s getting over her broken heart, but her self-doubt continues to grow. I think she doesn’t trust herself—her intelligence, her instincts, or her emotions. Unfortunately, it’s only getting worse instead of better. She second-guesses every decision she makes. I’ve seen how your wilderness lessons have helped Haley be more confident. I think Gillian would similarly benefit.”
“I don’t know, Caroline. I took her hiking in the canyon a few weeks ago, and she was very vocal about not liking the outdoors.”
Caroline’s eyes brightened, her curiosity piqued. “You took her hiking?”
He shrugged and deflected. “It was Valentine’s Day. We both needed something to do.”
She assessed him with a look, then apparently decided not to pursue the subject because she continued, “I don’t think it’s a case of Gillian not liking the outdoors as much as she’s not comfortable with it. She didn’t go camping when she was growing up, and she simply has no experience. I think that learning a few outdoors skills will help her self-confidence.”
“Hey, I’m not opposed to the idea at all. If you can talk her into it, then go for it.”
After they’d kicked the idea around a little more, Tucker had agreed to add Caroline, Maisy, and Gillian to his class scheduled for the third weekend of March, and Caroline had set about arranging it. Gillian had resisted the idea at first, as Tucker had expected, but her girlfriends wouldn’t take no for an answer. Exactly how she’d gone from reluctant student to Queen of the Dirty Girls, he wasn’t quite sure.
“Dirty Girls,” he murmured, his mouth twisting in a crooked smile as he placed the last log, checked his watch, then knelt to start the fire. Students for this weekend’s class would begin arriving any time now. He hoped they had sense enough to wear more than just their T-shirts. A cold front had blown in overnight bringing unseasonably low temperatures along with a drizzling rain that was forecasted to continue throughout the day. Well, if they didn’t come prepared, they’d learn. Preparedness was what this weekend was all about, wasn’t it?
He expected Gillian to at least bring a jacket. When he’d met her at Miguelitos’ food truck for lunch on Tuesday, she’d already seen the weather forecast for the weekend. She’d been less than enthusiastic, except when discussing the names and T-shirts. Apparently, Maisy had declared that they needed a name for their group in addition to one for the weekend. Angelica had offered up “Dirty Girls.” Tucker grinned every time he thought about it.
He had a good fire going when he heard the crunch of gravel that indicated the arrival of the first vehicle. Tucker grabbed his clipboard and started up the hill toward the parking area with a combination of anticipation and nervousness rolling through him. The nervousness caught him by surprise. He wanted this to be a positive experience for Gillian. He wanted her to like the school and what it offered. He was proud of what he was building here at ECWS. He wanted her to appreciate it.
Damn, but he wished the weather were better.
No. He couldn’t, shouldn’t, look at it that way. He wasn’t running a five-star resort. He was teaching wilderness skills, and the wilderness included inclement weather. Today would be an authentic experience—whether Gillian was comfortable or not.
Upon cresting the hill, he saw the Dirty Girls had arrived first and were lifting the folding chairs they’d been instructed to bring from the back of Maisy’s truck. Maisy and Caroline both looked worried. Gillian wore a sucking-a-sour-pickle expression. Tucker winced. This was not the way he’d hoped to start the weekend.
He pasted on a smile and said, “Hello, Dirty Girls. Ready to get grubby?”
Gillian offered a crooked smile. “Tucker, if you only knew.”
“We are all ready to get down in the muck and start slinging,” Caroline added. At Tucker’s curious look, she explained. “We met for breakfast at the Bluebonnet Café, and while Gillian was in the ladies’ room, we discovered a rat had been sitting at the counter eating biscuits and gravy.”
“Seriously? That’s the cleanest restaurant I’ve ever seen.”
“The two-legged kind of rodent. Triple J has returned to Redemption.”
Maisy defined the term before Tucker could ask. “Jeremy Jones the Jerk. Or, the Jerk, Jeremy Jones. It depends on how you like the words to roll off your tongue.”
“Ah.” Word around town had been that following his round with Tucker, Jeremy had taken advantage of his trust-fund baby, working-for-daddy status and had decamped to Florida in order to do some intensive work on his golf game with a renowned instructor.
Now, Tucker understood the unhappiness in Gillian’s gaze. He didn’t like that Jones still had the power to hurt her. It made him angry. Made him jealous. So he had a bit of a bite in his tone when he said, “Well, you knew he had to return sometime.”
Maisy nodded. “I think we all hoped he’d run into the Caddyshack gopher and get rabies from a bite. Instead, he stops by our table and starts yammering on about the new house he’s going to build over near Fredricksburg and acting like nothing has changed. I’m telling you, it was all I could do not to stab him with my fork.”
Tucker met Gillian’s gaze and a
sked, “Did you talk to him?”
“Luckily, he left before I returned to our table. I’ll admit this was not the way I wanted to begin my day, but at least I don’t have to worry about running into him in Enchanted Canyon.” She paused a moment, then her eyes rounded worriedly. “Right?”
“Right.”
“Good.” She dismissed the topic of Triple J by glancing around and asking, “So, where do we put our chairs?”
Hearing the gravel crunch from more arriving vehicles, Tucker glanced toward the road as he answered, “We’re using the pecan bottoms site this weekend. Follow the path down to the fire pit. Set up opposite the whiteboard so you can see it. I’ll be down once everyone checks in.”
“Aye aye, captain!” Maisy saluted.
The women started down the hill. Just before Gillian dropped out of sight, she stopped, set down her lawn chair, unzipped her backpack, and reached inside. She ran back up the hill carrying a shiny red apple.
“What’s this?” Tucker asked when she handed it to him.
“I almost forgot. I brought an apple for the teacher.”
He laughed. “Suck up.”
“It’s a good thing to be teacher’s pet.”
Thoughts of Eve in the Garden of Eden swam through his mind. Tucker polished the apple on his jacket sleeve and thought, Glory, you can pet this teacher any time you want.
* * *
“It’s pretty here,” Maisy observed as the three women reached the bottom of the hill. “Rustic.”
Gillian shot her a sardonic look. “Ya think?”
“This is the first time I’ve been to this part of the canyon,” Caroline said. “These pecan trees are fabulous. I wonder how old they are?”
“More than a hundred years, I’ll bet,” Gillian guessed. “It is pretty. Peaceful.” She could use a little peace. Or a lot of peace.
Jeremy was back in town.