On Lone Star Trail Read Free Page A

seemed to be the hairstyle many women liked, Gillian’s was pulled back into a formal bun that reminded him of the ice-skaters he’d seen on TV.
    He judged her to be at least eight inches shorter than his six feet, and though that made her a bit shorter than average, she didn’t seem to feel the need to wear those ridiculously high heels. Instead she was clad in jeans, ankle-height boots with sensible heels, and a tailored shirt. The outfit looked ordinary, but something told TJ it had cost more than he imagined. Debhad warned him that sometimes the simplest clothes—a little black dress, for example—were outrageously expensive.
    Seemingly unaware of his scrutiny, Gillian nodded. “I was here once before. I came for my best friend’s wedding last September.”
    â€œThe friend who owns the resort?”
    Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile that made TJ revise his opinion. When she smiled, Gillian Hodge was the most beautiful woman he’d met.
    â€œKate and her husband are the least likely people to open a resort,” Gillian said, visibly relaxing as she spoke of her friend. “Kate used to be an advertising executive, and her husband owned a big software company in Silicon Valley. Now they’re innkeepers.” Gillian chuckled, as if amused by the idea.
    TJ had to admit that those were not the backgrounds he would have expected for innkeepers. Some of his fellow teachers had talked about opening B&Bs when they retired, claiming that years of dealing with unruly students was the perfect preparation for handling demanding guests. TJ wondered how people more accustomed to structured meetings and PowerPoint presentations were dealing with the unpredictable behavior of tourists. He wouldn’t ask, because he really didn’t care. What he cared about was the woman driving him to Dupree.
    â€œWhat about you?”
    Gillian appeared startled by the question. “What do you mean?”
    â€œWhat do you do for a living?”
    It was the wrong question. Though he’d thought it innocuous enough, the way her fingers once again clutched the steering wheel told TJ he’d hit a sensitive nerve. Her lips flattened, and for a second he wondered if she’d refuse to answer. But then she shrugged. “I’m temporarily unemployed.”
    And obviously unhappy about it. He wouldn’t pry into the circumstances, because if he did, he might find himself feelinghe should offer advice, something he had no intention of doing. Instead, TJ said, “Me too.”
    He suspected that was one of the few things he had in common with Gillian. She had East Coast big city stamped all over her, but even though he’d lived in a suburb of Houston, TJ had never considered himself a city man. Give him wide open spaces any day. Wide open spaces and his bike, not an air-conditioned sedan that allowed you to see but not hear, feel, and even taste the countryside. TJ grinned, wondering how Miss Big City would have dealt with bugs on her teeth. Not well, he suspected.
    They lapsed into silence, but this time it felt more comfortable, perhaps because they’d both begun to relax. Before he had to search for another topic of conversation, Gillian made a left turn at the sign that welcomed them to Dupree, the Heart of the Hills. A gas station sat a few yards behind the sign. Perfect.
    â€œYou can let me off here,” TJ said. “They’re bound to have a tow truck.” He had no way of knowing whether anyone there could repair motorcycles, but he wanted to believe that chances were good, since the damage was simply metal and rubber. Engine repairs were trickier.
    Gillian shook her head and showed no sign of slowing. “The deal was to take you to Rainbow’s End. That’s where we’re going.”
    Whatever her job had been, one thing was clear: the woman was used to being in charge. TJ settled back in the seat, resigning himself to seeing her