Home At Last Chance (Last Chance #2)(35)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“Yes, I understand, but he also wants—”

“So, I need you to set up a time and place where everyone can meet this kid, and maybe her father. How about next weekend? They’re racing in Darlington, aren’t they?”

“Who is ‘everyone’?”

“The people from Penny Farthing, who own the license for Racer Rabbit, and myself. I think Penny Farthing Productions needs reassurances after this blog disaster. Hell, Sarah, I need reassurance. You understand, don’t you? We have to make his family look less eccentric.”

“Yes, but, Deidre—”

“Good, get them passes. I want to meet this child who sees angels. If she’s as photogenic as her uncle, I’m pretty sure we can use her in our campaign. Don’t disappoint me this time, Sarah.”

Deidre hung up. Sarah handed Tulane his phone.

“I’m in such trouble,” she said, feeling more tears well up in her eyes.

Tulane frowned. “Trouble? Honey, I thought I had her eating out of my hand. What did she say?”

“She wants to meet Haley. No, actually it’s worse than that: she wants everyone from Penny Farthing to meet Haley because she has this notion that telling the rest of Haley’s story is the only way to undo the damage done by Arnold Simons. I have to get passes for your family for next Sunday’s race, and if Haley isn’t there for inspection, the Dragon Lady is going to completely char my career. As it is, my career is already toasted.”

The tears she was holding back suddenly erupted. “I could have handled this so much better. Now what am I going to do? I can’t let the Dragon Lady get her claws into Haley. Can I?”

Tulane’s face softened. “Aw, honey, we’ll think of something. But maybe to start out we could just pull down some kudzu and maybe saw down some of those burned trees.”

She tried to smile through the tears, but the tears won.

The next thing she knew she was up against Tulane’s very hard chest, getting snot all over his T-shirt.

“Now, honey, none of this was your fault. It was all pretty much my own pride that got in the way.”

Sarah knew she ought to explain about the pink car memo and how all of this was actually her fault. But she was having way too much fun being wrapped up in his arms, and pressing her cheek against the sturdy muscles of his chest. He held her a long time—way longer than entirely necessary for a man to comfort a woman in distress.

And during that time, Sarah let herself lean on him. He was strong enough to hold her up, which was really nice, because she was tired of holding her own self up and she needed this rest.

When they parted they looked into each other’s eyes for a long time.

And blushed.

Both of them.

Her cheeks heated and his ears turned an amazing shade of red.

That was before they realized the busybodies of Last Chance, South Carolina, were watching them and taking notes.

Chapter 16

Well, would you look at that,” Thelma Hanks said.

“What?” Millie Polk asked.

“Over there on the eighteenth hole. My goodness. We need to tell Miriam and Ruby right away. That looks like a serious problem to me.”

“Well, I never,” Millie said.

Hettie looked over her shoulder to see what the girls were talking about. Tulane Rhodes and Sarah Murray were in each other’s arms, and they didn’t look like they were about to let go of each other anytime soon.

Bill laughed. He was working beside Hettie, pulling down kudzu like a he-man. She turned toward him in time to see him trying to smother his grin. “I heard that,” she said. “And what do you think is so funny?”

“Guess I’m off the hook,” he said as he tugged on a stubborn vine. Laugh lines flashed for just a moment on his left cheek.

He was devastatingly handsome, all the more so dressed in worn secular garb that fit his body well. He was a little bit sweaty and didn’t look at all like a preacher in that T-shirt. But then, Hettie was hardly dressed like a Queen Bee.

Something about the casual clothing made the moment feel naughty and forbidden.

She turned away and tried to collect her wits. She needed to put distance between herself and Bill Ellis. It was simply not right to find the pastor of Christ Church so attractive. She picked up the heavy lopping shears and cut the vine he was tugging.

He tossed the severed vine into the debris pile, then captured her attention with his 3,000-watt blue eyes. “Don’t be so shocked, Hettie. I live in Last Chance, and you can’t live in this town without knowing about Miriam Randall’s various matrimonial projects.” The corner of his mouth quivered as if he were struggling to keep a straight face.

“Well, it would appear she’s gotten it wrong, for once.” Probably because Miriam had made the whole thing up. But Hettie wasn’t about to give away Miriam’s secrets.

Bill looked over his shoulder at Sarah and Tulane. They had just stepped apart, but anyone with eyes could tell the two of them were burning up for one another.

He looked back. “Well, I don’t think I’d want to get between those two, right at the moment, regardless of what Miriam might have to say. Besides, Sarah is not the woman for me. She’s way too corporate.”

Hettie pulled the brim of her big, floppy hat down so Bill couldn’t see the relief that probably showed on her face. Feeling relief was not a good thing. She should be trying to find Bill a proper wife, like all the rest of the Ladies Auxiliary.

He turned back to the vines and started pulling down another one. “I guess I’ll have to continue to deal with Lillian Bray’s matchmaking,” he said, as if he could read her mind. “Although, to be honest, Hettie, she’s got very high standards for me. I’m afraid she’s unhappy about my relationship with Jenny Carpenter. I gather Jenny being a Methodist puts her completely out of the running.”

A wave of adrenaline hit Hettie’s bloodstream. “Are you serious about Jenny?” The words jumped right out of her mouth.

He shook his head. “What, Hettie, have you got a problem with Methodists, too?”

“No, it’s just that…” She clamped down on her thoughts and took a deep breath. “I guess I was just surprised.”

“Well, the thing is, Jenny is a real good cook and she doesn’t have anyone to cook for now that her momma is up at the nursing home. And I have a weakness for homemade apple pie. The truth is, Jenny is lonely. And I am, too, sometimes. So I let her cook for me. Jenny and I are just friends.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve heard that one before.”

“Well,” Bill said, “I know how it sounds when I say that Jenny and I are just friends. But it’s true. I go over there every couple of weeks and she cooks a dinner for me and we talk about books. I see you more often than I see Jenny. After all, you sit on the church board of directors, you’ve roped me into being an advisor to the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God, and you come to the church on a daily basis. I enjoy your company. But we’re just friends, too.”

Hettie’s heart leapt to her throat and she looked up, past the brim of her hat, into his serious blue eyes. His gaze was far more direct and eloquent than his words had been.

She took a deep breath, collected her scattered emotions, and asked, “Do you think I should cut back on my church activities, then?”

He dropped another vine onto the debris pile and then turned back toward her. His smile was kind and gentle, as it always was. He was a friend. A very good friend.

“I would never dream of telling anyone to cut back on activities at the church. You can come to church as often as you like or as you need. I know something is troubling you very deeply. But I’m not the answer. I’m just a priest who can guide you, but not much more. The answer you’re seeking lies in your faith. Trust in the Lord and He’ll show you the right way. I’m worried about you.”

She turned and looked up at the giant statue of Goliath. “Sometimes I’m worried about me, too,” she finally said.

“Do me a favor, then.”

“What?”

“Pray about it. I’ve been praying a lot for you recently.”

She turned back. “Have you?”

He smiled. “Every day. But please, dear friend, remember that this town is a gossip mill.” One of his brows inclined just a fraction.

She met his stare straight on as something wonderful and awful blossomed in her mind. “And you’re saying I’m not the only one who could get hurt.”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

After they helped the garden club, Tulane took Sarah to the Red Hot Pig Place, where they discussed the Deidre problem over hush puppies and pulled pork. They came to absolutely no conclusions, except that getting passes for next week’s race for Haley and the rest of Tulane’s family wouldn’t do any more damage than had already been done.

That would appease the Dragon Lady for a few more days while they tried to figure out a way to rehabilitate Tulane’s reputation and save Sarah’s career.

It wasn’t his reputation that Tulane was thinking about, though, as they sat there in that seedy barbecue place off Charleston-Augusta Road. Nope, all thoughts about his reputation took a hike the minute Sarah took her first bite of hush puppy and let go of a groan of pleasure that was triple-X-rated.

It was hard to think about anything after she made that noise. He wanted to reach across the table, take that stupid clip from her hair, and pull her up into his arms.

He’d been having random thoughts along those lines for most of the day. He was about to explode from those random and utterly immature thoughts.

Although, in truth, he had to admit that the lust he was feeling for her was overlaid with something else entirely. Something really complicated.

The fact was, he liked her. He liked her even though she’d managed to wrap herself around his life and his family and his hometown. He liked her because she didn’t laugh at his folks. He liked her because she loved Golfing for God. He liked her because she treated Daddy like he was a human being and not some joke.

He liked her. A lot.

They finished dinner and walked to their separate cars. It was time to say good night. She gave him a lame little smile and told him she’d see him around the office.

He smiled back, got into his car, and followed her onto the Charleston-Augusta Road heading east toward Bamberg and Route 78, and the two-hour drive back to Florence. But when he got to the exit off I-95, where he should have turned off to go home, he kept following her car’s red taillights.

Was it immature to want Sarah Rhodes?

He didn’t have an answer. But he sure knew what Pete would say. Pete would tell him that if he cared about Sarah, he needed to let her know. Up until this moment, Tulane had been dodging that bullet, mostly because he hadn’t been sure.

But he was sure now. A day watching her with the Last Chance Garden Club had pretty much sealed the deal.

He followed her into her complex’s parking lot and parked beside Sarah’s nondescript rental car. He got out of the Mustang and intercepted her between their cars.