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“I don’t know.”
“John Lincoln, you make yourself available to that young woman. She’s taking on a big job and we need to be there for her.”
“Mom, I have my hands full trying to run the business. I don’t have time to play host.”
“Do you know if she’s met with the Chamber folks yet?”
Linc rubbed his forehead. “No. I’ve only spoken to her once.”
“Son, I’ve dumped a big project in her lap and I’m not there to guide her. I want you to attend those meetings and make sure she has all she needs. You’ve helped me with Christmas events several times and you know what to do.”
“Mom, maybe it’s time you came home. We miss you. Especially now. Tori’s not doing well. If you were here you could help this woman yourself. It would keep you busy and your mind off...things.”
“You think keeping busy will make me forget I lost the man I’ve loved for nearly forty years?”
His mother’s harsh tone humbled him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I’ll be home soon. I promise. And I’ve been talking to your sister. She just needs to work through this in her own way. In the meantime, you watch over Gemma. She’s a good friend and I want her to know we’re supporting her.”
“Friend? Mom, how do you know this woman?”
“Remember the retirement party for Harvey Morgan? She’s the one who planned that whole thing. It was amazing. I went to tell her what a splendid job she’d done and we connected right away. I think she’s exactly what Dover needs to spark up the Christmas events.”
What was going on? “The events are just fine the way they are.”
“Be that as it may, will you do as I ask and look out for her?”
“Fine. I’ll pay her a visit tonight.”
“Thank you, dear. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Linc hung up, then lay his head on the back of the recliner. So much for the football game. He needed downtime, a few hours of mindless distraction from the pressure at the office. The last thing he wanted to do was play gracious host to the new tenant. In fact, he’d like to avoid the woman altogether. Something about her disturbed him, but he wasn’t sure what or why. He’d even dreamed about her last night. Not a good thing.
He didn’t understand why his mother was so concerned about the woman handling the job. Mom had the decorations and celebrations down to a science. All that Gemma had to do was follow the plan from the previous years and it would be a breeze. But, as he’d promised his mom, first he’d make her feel welcomed.
Leveraging himself from the recliner, he went to the freezer in the utility room and pulled out one of his mom’s frozen pecan pies. Her standard welcome-to-the-area offering.
Slipping on his athletic shoes, he didn’t bother to tie the laces. This would be a quick howdy-do. He’d hand her the pie, offer her his assistance, then get back to the game. The Saints had the ball.
All the lights in the cottage were blazing when he knocked on the door. He shifted impatiently as he waited. He’d reached out to knock again when the door opened and Gemma appeared. The lights from inside framed her in a soft glow, making her skin translucent and her reddish-blond hair spark with light. She was stunning. His mouth went dry and he forgot why he was here. “Uh. My mom, I mean, I brought you a pie. Pecan pie.” He went warm all over. What was wrong with him? He never had trouble talking to women, but for some reason he was as tongue-tied and awkward as a teenager with his first crush. “I should have brought it sooner. To welcome you. As a tenant.” He suddenly wished the porch boards would collapse and swallow him into the ground.
She smiled, her green eyes twinkling like emeralds. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure Francie would have brought it herself if she was here.”
Linc frowned. Was she implying that he obviously hadn’t thought of this himself? She was right, but he didn’t like the idea that she could read him. “Actually, I wanted to bring it as an apology gift, too.” Good move. Now he was back on track. “I wasn’t very hospitable yesterday when you arrived. I didn’t know Mom had leased the cottage. And, uh, I’ve been too busy to get over here before this.”
She raised an eyebrow, then dropped her gaze down to his feet and his untied laces. “And you were so anxious to get the pie to me that you forgot to tie your shoes?”
“No. I—” Heat infused his neck and cheeks. Linc Montgomery didn’t like being off balance. He was always the one in charge. This woman was downright irritating.
“My son does that when he’s in a hurry to finish an unpleasant task. Like taking out the garbage, or bringing a pie to a neighbor.”
Her eyes weren’t twinkling now. They were dark and challenging. Well, he’d show her. He flashed his best smile. “A neighbor I should get to know better. Where would you like me to put this?” He stepped closer, edging past her to the door. She was not going to get the best of him.
She moved aside, following him into the living room. “Just put it in the kitchen.”
He smiled over his shoulder. “It’s frozen.”
“So you didn’t bake it yourself, then?”
“I could have.” He cringed at the stupidity of that remark. He could no more bake a pie than knit a sweater. Mr. Smooth Moves with the ladies was playing one-upmanship with a girl. No, a woman. A disturbingly attractive and quick-witted one at that.
She stood in the small eating area while he placed the pie on the counter. He looked at her and smiled again. She didn’t smile back. “So is there anything I can do for you? Anything need fixing, problems with the house, something up high I can get down for you?”
She arched her brows. “Everything is fine. We don’t need a thing. And I have a step stool.”
“Hey, Mom.” The boy charged into the room, his shoes squeaking on the floor when he stopped. “Hi, Mr. Linc.”
Linc searched his memory for the boy’s name. “Hey, Evan.” He noticed the junior-size football in the boy’s hands. “You play?”
“Naw. Mom can’t throw and I don’t know anyone yet.”
“I’ll play with you. Just holler. When you see that red truck at the main house that means I’m home. I love football.”
The boy’s face split in a wide smile. “Did you play?”
“Sure did. All through college.”
“Pro, too?”
“No. I wasn’t tall enough.” He shrugged. “Only six feet.”
“Drew Brees is only that tall.”
“Yes, but he has talent.”
Evan chuckled, then hurried from the room.
Gemma gave him a cool glare. “That was very nice of you. Assuming you follow up on your offer?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged. “I’ve learned people say a lot of things they don’t mean. Promises aren’t worth much.”
“They are to me.”
“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
He’d had enough. This woman was getting under his skin. She shoved him off balance every time she spoke, and with every glance from those incredible green eyes. Seeing a pen and notepad on the counter, he scribbled down his cell number. “If you need anything, call. Day or night. I mean that.”
“Of course you do. Your mother would tan your hide if you didn’t. Right?”
Either she didn’t think much of him or she knew his mother better than he’d expected. Whatever—he wasn’t going to expend any more effort on making her feel at home. His mom could do that when she got back. “Good night.” He walked past the table and noticed the photos from last year’s Christmas events. Beside them were sketches of the same scenes, only far more elaborate. He touched one sketch with his fingertips. “What are these?”
Gemma came to his side. “My designs for decorating the downtown.”
“But this looks nothing like it did last year.”
“That’s the point. The Chamber wants to expand everything. More lights, more activities, more decorations.”
“Why?”
“To bring in more business. Over the next few years they’d like to see Dover become a Christmas destination spot.”
“Does my mother know about this?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Blindsided again. Linc nodded and made his way to the door. Everything in his life was upside down and backward. Gemma followed him.
“Thank you for the pie.”
He stopped and looked back at her, caught again by how lovely she was. “You’re welcome.”
Linc made his way down the steps, nearly tripping on his laces. He propped his foot up on a planter and tied them before marching back to the house.
This Gemma was going to completely change Dover’s Christmas. He liked it the way it was. Time to have another talk with his mother. Surely she didn’t intend for this woman to toss out the cherished holiday celebrations.
Suddenly his mom’s suggestion that he attend the Chamber meetings and help Gemma sounded like a great idea. His mom was right about one thing. He did know the Christmas events down to the last plastic poinsettia. He’d make sure she didn’t destroy the holiday traditions the people in this town treasured—and that she kept things the way his mother always had.
* * *
Gemma closed the door behind Linc, then returned to the kitchen and stared at the pie. That had to have been Francie’s idea. She seriously doubted Linc would think of that on his own.
She smiled as she imagined Linc’s reaction to Francie’s request to bring a pie to the new tenants. No doubt he’d whined and rolled his eyes the way Evan did when faced with an unpleasant task. Why else would Linc traipse over here with his shoes untied?
When she’d seen him coming up on the porch, she’d braced for another confrontation and assumed her most pleasant expression. The one she used for clients who were inclined to be difficult. But when she’d opened the door, he’d looked stunned—and confused. He’d recovered quickly, unleashing his charm, but it was obvious he was unhappy with playing gentleman host.
It was all a wasted effort where she was concerned. She felt certain he was accustomed to women melting under his disarming smile, and to be fair, it had caused a small hitch in her breath. She doubted he was used to women challenging his motives.
What he didn’t know was how fragile her bravado actually was. Resting a hand on her throat, she took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate and calm the flutters in her stomach.
She’d have to keep her head around Linc. He put the electric in Montgomery Electrical. Energetic and aggressive, with his piercing blue eyes, the perpetual scowl on his chiseled features, he was the kind of man who could overpower you with his personality alone. Which meant he wasn’t the kind of man she ever intended to get close to. The thought of being overpowered again chilled her blood. She forced the memory back into the dark corner of her mind, praying for peace. The past was over. She had Evan. That was all she wanted to remember.
“Mom? Did that man leave?”
She motioned her son to her side. “Yes. Why?”
He exhaled a loud sigh. “I wanted to ask him about football and stuff.”
Gemma’s shoulders sagged at the thought. Another challenge to guard against. She didn’t need her son developing a case of hero worship for a man like Linc. Though he had been kind to Evan earlier, she knew better than to make any snap judgments about men. Besides, Linc hadn’t come of his own accord in a gesture of welcome or apology. He’d come because he’d been ordered by his mother.
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow. It’s time for bed.”
After settling Evan for the night, Gemma returned to the dining room to go over her presentation one more time. She’d spent a good portion of the past two days sketching out ideas for decorating the town square. Looking at her drawings released a bubble of excitement from deep inside—helping to chase away the unease Linc had left in his wake. Tomorrow she would meet with the Chamber officials to present her preliminary plans, and she needed to be prepared. If she succeeded in Dover, it would open the doors for her future. She could return to Charlotte, or anywhere for that matter, and start another business. New name, new focus, new goals. Ones that didn’t include trusting someone else.
Chapter Three (#ulink_a4a0967b-911f-5c26-9b20-817d272954d5)
Gemma waited patiently the next afternoon as the officers of the Dover Chamber of Commerce passed around her drawings for the downtown Christmas decorations. She’d received a warm welcome from everyone. She’d already met Pete McCorkle, the president, but this afternoon she’d been introduced to Celia Jones, the membership director; Jeff Wilson, director of sales; and the treasurer, Leon Skelton. They had expressed their excitement over the expansion of the Christmas celebrations. She’d also met Leatha Delmar, who would be her assistant, and who had greeted her with a warm hug and assurance that she would help with everything. As a longtime resident of Dover, Leatha’s knowledge and experience would be invaluable.
Pete studied her drawings, a pleased smile on his face. “These are wonderful. This should draw people from up in Jackson to come down and see our decorations.” He glanced at her. “Can you do this within the budget?”
“I believe so. Provided we can get the business owners on board to help. I’m hoping for a few volunteers to help me coordinate details and work with store owners. And I’ll solicit donations where I can. I’d like to incorporate the other events you have—the community dinner, the toy drive. Bring all the events together, which will ultimately help all the merchants, not just the ones around the square.”
Celia nodded in agreement. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. For years, we’ve wanted to do more with Christmas beyond tossing up a few lights.”
“May I ask why you haven’t?”
“Money, mainly. We have two other large events and fund-raisers during the year. A Founders Day celebration in the fall, and a sidewalk sale and cook-off in the spring. It’s only been with the closure of the Southways plant that we were forced to look for another means of revenue. We decided to make more of our charming downtown and put more effort into the holiday.”
“I think that was a wise decision. Your town square is ideal for showcasing Christmas celebrations.”
Pete clasped his hands on the table. “I like your ideas and your enthusiasm. How soon can we get started on this? I’m afraid we haven’t given you much time. It’s already late October.”
Gemma kept her demeanor professional, but inside she wanted to leap for joy. “I’d like to start with a meeting of the local business owners as soon as possible. I’d also like to see what you have on hand as far as lights, signs, banners, holiday decor, things like that.”
Jeff Wilson spoke up. “That would be in the storage building over on Fifth Street. Francie Montgomery should be able to give you her key.”
Gemma bit her lip. “Oh. I’m afraid she’s out of town, and I have no idea when she’ll be home.”
Wilson waved off her concern. “No problem—Linc will know where the key is.”
She forced a smile, but inwardly she cringed. She was trying to avoid Linc—not become more involved. The memory of his unexpected visit last night sent her pulse racing and released a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Still, she left the meeting with a confidence she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She smiled through her trip to the grocery, the bank and the drugstore. When she pulled up at the school to pick up Evan she was still smiling. Tomorrow she would take pictures of the downtown buildings so she could begin designing light displays. She’d draft an email to the business owners tonight requesting a meeting in the next couple of days. She prayed they would be willing to participate. But first she had to see what was salvageable in the storage building. Unfortunately, to do that she needed to talk to Linc again and get the key.
“Hey, Mom.” Evan slid into the front seat and buckled up.
“How did it go today?” She reached over and smoothed his hair.
“Good. I met a boy who lives near us. He said if you’ll call his mom she would let him come over to play.”
“That’s wonderful, honey. Did you get her number?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Gemma made the turn into the winding driveway of the Montgomery estate situated a few miles south of downtown Dover. The long alley of live oaks arching overhead, dripping with moss, was like a loving welcome home. Living on the Montgomery estate in the quaint cottage gave her a sense of belonging and fueled her imagination. Her mind was a tumbler of ideas all straining to spill forth and become reality.
