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“I already ate.”
“How about a cup of coffee?”
Joe shrugged. “I could drink a cup.”
“Good,” Tanner said, then he smiled. He would get Miss Bailey Stephenson to see he was a nice guy. And when he did, she would be glad, because a date with him wasn’t exactly torture. Most of the women he dated thought he was fun…interesting…lots of good stuff. This time next week, Bailey would be thanking him.
Chapter Three
Darkness had descended by the time Bailey arrived at the church hall for the revitalization committee meeting that night. As she had suspected, there was a late-afternoon rush of women who wanted her to remove the pins from their upswept hair and wash out the spray gel that had kept the style alive for over twenty-four hours.
She’d shampooed heads, treasure hunted hairpins and carefully combed out tangles for hours, and she was beat. Sure that the meeting would be over by the time she left the shop, it was only a formality that she drove up the hill to the church. When she saw the lights were still on in the hall, duty and responsibility wouldn’t let her turn around and drive away. She parked her SUV, climbed out and headed inside.
The red, white and blue streamers from the celebration the night before were gone and so were the white plastic table covers. All that remained was a utilitarian cement block structure, lit only enough to accommodate the meeting, and furnished with rows of empty tables and green folding chairs.
As she walked through the entryway, she saw Tanner McConnell. Looking like a king holding court with his subjects, he sat at the head of the first long table. The six men in attendance with him made two columns of rapt attention down the table’s sides.
When Tanner saw her, he grinned. “Hey, Bailey, come on in.”
“Yeah, Bailey, where have you been?” Artie Thorpe asked, sounding annoyed with her.
“I’ve been shampooing hair. Making a living,” she said as she took the seat farthest away from Tanner. She didn’t have to be a genius to know what was going on here. He was following her. He couldn’t get her to go out with him, so he came to her meeting.
“Tanner has been generous enough to volunteer to be a part of our group until he leaves for Florida,” Artie said.
Bailey only gave Tanner a deadpan look, telling him with her expression that she knew what he was doing. Tanner raised his coffee cup as if toasting.
“You missed two hours’ worth of his good ideas.”
“Oh, they weren’t that good,” Tanner said, waving away the praise. “The things I told you were just plain old-fashioned business sense, that’s all.”
“Business sense most of us don’t have,” Doug McDonald said. And in some way, shape or form everybody at the table agreed with him because they were laborers who worked in the factory in a neighboring city. They weren’t company owners or even supervisors at the plant. The only one at the table with any kind of business experience was Bailey. Until Tanner’s appearance, she was the one everyone wanted to hear.
“I think we’re very lucky to have you here on the committee,” Artie said, and that was when Bailey remembered that Artie was married to Tanner’s ex-wife. The woman Tanner had left behind. She took a minute to consider that it was generous of Artie to forgive Tanner for hurting Emmalee, then realized Artie wouldn’t be married to Em if Tanner hadn’t divorced her. And the truth was no one really knew that Tanner hadn’t asked Emma to go with him when he left for New York ten years ago. All Emma ever said was that Tanner had moved on to bigger and better things. Everybody assumed he hadn’t asked her to move on with him. If he had and she refused, everything about this situation would be backward. Right now it would take great effort for Tanner to be nice to Artie, not the other way around.
“So, anyway,” Tanner was saying when Bailey came out of her thoughts. “I have to hang around long enough to make sure that the erosion and sedimentation controls are properly installed in the banks of the stream at the back of my parents’ property. Then the lane to the house has to be rebuilt.” He stopped to laugh. “The flood left ruts and dips that won’t go away without the help of several pieces of heavy equipment and about eighteen tons of gravel.” He grimaced. “My exhaust system and I found that out the hard way.”
“Yeah, too bad about your car,” Doug said. “You’ll have to talk with Frank in the morning, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t stock Mercedes parts.”
“I think you’re looking at being in Wilmore at least a month,” Artie said, pretending to be sympathetic.
Tanner playfully punched his arm. “Don’t kid a kidder. You’re glad I’m forced to be around that long because you want my help.”
Artie grinned. “I won’t lie and say I don’t.”
“Good,” Tanner said. “Then I won’t lie and say I’m not flattered that you asked for my help,” he added, and Bailey felt a flash of appreciation and respect for Tanner. He might have joined this committee to be with her, but he really did intend to do his part. And not in a condescending fashion, but like one of the team.
Oh, Lord, now he had done it! By joining the committee he tricked her into seeing he was a normal guy, not an icon, not a prince. Just a guy. If she refused to go out with him, she wouldn’t be rejecting an image or a personality, she would be rejecting a real person, someone she had to deal with and see at least twice a week for the next three weeks.
Tanner yawned and stretched. “Well, it looks like this good country air has me a little more tired than I’m used to.”
“It’s the mountains,” Doug said.
Tanner nodded. “Probably.”
“Let’s adjourn the meeting, then,” Artie said, rising from his seat.
Though Bailey had been chairperson of the renovation committee, which had been responsible for overseeing flood repairs, everyone had agreed that Artie, as mayor, was a better choice as head of the revitalization committee.
“We’ll meet again Wednesday night. Any objections?” he asked, glancing around.
Because Wednesday night was the only weeknight Bailey was available, she certainly didn’t have any objections and was grateful when no one else had any, either. They took the adjournment to a vote, it passed unanimously, and everyone started shuffling toward the door.
“Are you ready, Tanner?” Artie asked, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.
“Actually, Artie,” Tanner said. “Since Bailey has an SUV it might be better if she took me home. Your van drove in a little low, and that lane really is nothing but ruts and mud pits. I’ll just ride home with Bailey.” He turned, smiled at her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Doing favors was such a natural thing for Bailey that without thinking she assured him it was no problem. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt uncomfortable about them. He might be a real person to her now, and he might even be someone willing to help the town, but regardless of how “real” he was or how nice he was, they were still strangers. And he had finagled a ride home with her. Down some of the darkest, loneliest roads in the county.
Her discomfort grew when they headed out of the hall. Most of the group left as soon as the meeting adjourned, and Artie was nowhere around, having gone to turn off the lights. Tanner and Bailey walked through the cement-block entryway alone.
Without giving Bailey a chance to lift her hand to get the doorknob, Tanner reached around her and opened the door. Because she was unaccustomed to such chivalry, she tossed him a puzzled look, and he smiled. Even in the darkened corridor she could see the twinkle in his eyes, the devilment in his grin.
But, oddly, that grin, that symbol of male assurance saved her, because it fueled her determination not to let him get any farther past her defenses than he already had. She refused to be charmed just because he was nice to his ex-wife’s new husband, really would help the committee and was endearingly determined to spend time with her. Because, God help her, even his persistence was starting to seem sweet to her. There had never been a man in her life so interested in her that he would go to such lengths just to be in her company…but she wasn’t going to let that sway her. She wasn’t going to let him charm her. There was no way they could ever have a real relationship and so there was no sense in playing with fire.
She led him to her SUV and unlocked the passenger side door, leaving him no choice but to open it and enter so he could unlock her door for her. Neither said a word while she jumped in, started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
“You’re not upset with me being on the committee, are you?” Tanner asked.
Because they really needed his help and she was smart enough to know that, she said, “No.”
“Well, Artie mentioned that you’re the resident expert, since you have a business degree, and I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like I was usurping your territory.”
Surprised that he seemed genuinely concerned that he might have stepped on her toes when that thought had never even occurred to her, Bailey flashed him a quick, assessing look. “This town can use all the help it can get.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
Bailey nodded. “It takes manpower…or womanpower to get the Federal aid, and find the private grants available to accomplish our special projects. For twenty years we sat back and settled for what we could afford from taxes, and when the flood came we realized it wasn’t much. But the flood was an unexpected blessing, too, because it forced us to apply for Federal money for disaster aid. Now that everybody’s accustomed to dealing with the government, we’re not as inhibited as we had been. And we’re not afraid to go after more, to take the next steps. We have a chance to propel ourselves into the twenty-first century. I want to take it.”
“Well, I’m behind you 100 percent.”
“Really?” she asked, happy to give him the benefit of the doubt. They sure as heck could use his assistance.
“Really,” he confirmed, but as soon as he said it she remembered he was leaving. And soon. He wouldn’t be around to see any of these projects through to completion. She suddenly worried that his popping onto the committee for a few weeks might do more harm than good.
Maneuvering her vehicle onto the rut-filled lane that led to his parents’ small farm, she said, “I’m just a little bit concerned that everybody’s going to be disappointed when you leave.”
“Are you speaking for the committee now, or for yourself?”
Again she cast him a quick, assessing glance. The dim light from the dashboard barely illuminated his handsome face and his short sandy brown hair that was carefully styled to look careless and natural. He had those classic boy-next-door good looks. Light brown hair streaked with yellow by the sun, big green eyes, sun-tanned skin. And at the meeting he had shown her that he could be nice. Considerate. Fair.
Part of her actually wished she could be honest and tell him that she didn’t want to get involved with him because he would leave her and any woman would miss a man like him when he was gone. But if she turned this into a personal discussion, she’d lose the opportunity to explain the very serious concerns she had about him jumping in to help only to disappear in a few weeks.
Using her most patient voice, she said, “Tanner, this town needs help, and these guys respect and like you enough that they’re willing to humble themselves and admit that they don’t know what their next steps should be. I’m afraid if they humble themselves too far, depend on you too much, they’ll lose the confidence it took them all spring to build. And when you’re gone I’ll be starting from scratch again. Cheerleading to make them believe they can do all this. But more than that, this isn’t like the big city where volunteers are a dime a dozen. If you start a hundred projects then leave in the middle of them, we could very well be stranded.”
Her last statement took them to the end of the lane, almost to the bottom step of his parents’ front porch. She jerked the gearshift into park, and faced him, because really that was the bottom line. Not just to his being on the committee, but to his being in her life. “To you this might be noble and sort of fun for the moment, but I’m the one who’s going to be left picking up the pieces or trying to hold everything together when you leave.”
“I won’t leave in the middle of something,” he said, capturing her gaze, looking like he was talking more about them personally, than the town or the committee and its problems. “And I won’t start something that I can’t finish.”
“Getting the funding for some of these projects will take years,” Bailey protested over the ripple of yearning that swept through her at his sincere voice, the honesty in his simple words. She genuinely believed he didn’t understand what he was dragging her or her poor town into. “You’re not going to hang around for years.”
“No,” he agreed, shaking his head to emphasize it. “But there are telephones and fax machines and even e-mail and instant messages. If you want to communicate with someone badly enough, you can.”
That made her laugh. “I’m about the only one in this town who has e-mail and even knows what an instant message is.”
“You’re the only one I care about.”
Her head shot up and she stared at him. Though he had hovered around the fine line between talking about the committee and talking about her, with that comment he crossed over. Fear nearly paralyzed her. No matter how cute he was, how sincere he sounded, how nice he was to the people on her committee, or even how much she wanted this, she absolutely, positively could not get involved with this man. He was leaving. She was staying. They were a disaster waiting to happen. She would not willfully put herself in a position of getting hurt. That would be insanity.
But before she could say anything, he said, “You know what I mean.” Then he grinned and yanked on the handle of the passenger side door. “As long as there is one person to contact, I can be in touch. This isn’t hard, Bailey. Don’t make it hard.”
With that he jumped out and slammed her car door. Bailey waited until he was inside the house before she put her gearshift into drive and bounced her way out of his parents’ lane, feeling oddly empty. But she had done the right thing. She knew she had done the right thing.
It wasn’t until she was at the door of her apartment that she realized he hadn’t made a move to kiss her. And he hadn’t actually flirted with her, either. Most of the time she thought he might have been talking about a relationship with her, he could have been talking about the committee. All he had really done was confuse her.
Or maybe she had confused herself. Since he hadn’t kissed her or tried, hadn’t asked her out or tried. Maybe she was only complimenting herself to think he joined the committee to be with her.
“Cora, I’m telling you it was the most confusing situation I’ve ever been in.”
“I don’t see how,” Cora Beth Johnson said, balancing her fist on her right hip as she stared at Bailey. Tall, thin, brown-eyed Cora had been Bailey’s best friend since grade school and now was her best employee. The two were supposed to be doing a late-Monday-night inventory before a salesman arrived Tuesday morning, but so far all Cora had done was stand and stare at Bailey.
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