On Lone Star Trail by Amanda Cabot

commentary other than the brief captions explaining the sights. Classic Dad. He was taking what many would consider the trip of a lifetime, a cruise around the world, and all he’d shared were photos of places he’d visited. No pictures of people, no indication of whether or not he was enjoying the cruise itself, the other passengers, or the sights he’d seen. But that was Dad, unwilling or maybe unable to express his feelings.
    As she clicked “send,” Gillian felt a sense of relief. She’d done her duty, and thanks to Kate, it had not been difficult. Though the other cabins had neither phones nor internet access, since Isaiah had been designed for staff, Kate and Greg had decided it should have the same connections as the office and their apartment.
    Gillian rose and peered out the window. With Kate and Greg shopping in San Antonio and a light drizzle discouraging outdoor pastimes, she had spent the morning in her cabin. But now that the rain had stopped and cabin fever had set in, there was no reason not to go to the main lodge. TJ might be there, and if all else failed, she could chat with Carmen. The woman who provided such delicious meals had told Gillian she was always welcome in the kitchen.
    Gillian was approaching the front entrance when a man blocked her way.
    â€œGillian Hodge!” The man doffed his Stetson in greeting. “If I’d known you were here, I would have come sooner.”
    He was a stranger. But what a handsome stranger. With classic features, sandy blond hair, china-blue eyes, and a height of an inch or two over six feet, he could have been a movie star, although Hollywood might have asked him to beef up a bit. The stranger was thinner than current fashion demanded. Dressed in what she had come to call the Texas uniform of jeans, a westernshirt, boots, and hat, he looked like the quintessential cowboy, and yet he moved with such assurance that Gillian could picture him in a business suit or a tuxedo. It was no wonder Kate was worried. This man exuded charisma, and charisma combined with a healthy bankroll was extremely powerful.
    â€œYou must be Mike Tarkett.”
    â€œGuilty as charged, but how did you know?” Mike grinned and extended his hand for a quick shake. “I recognized you from the local paper’s coverage of the grand reopening, but I doubt you subscribe to the Blytheville Times to know who I am.”
    His grip was firm, and if he held her hand a bit longer than courtesy demanded, Gillian wasn’t complaining. There was something comforting, something almost familiar, about him. “No Blytheville Times ,” she agreed, “but I do subscribe to girlfriend gossip. Kate Vange told me you were arriving today. It didn’t require Sherlock Holmes’s skills to deduce that you were Mike Tarkett, since the other new guests are couples.”
    Mike wrinkled his nose. “I was afraid of that. I told Mom I’d be a fifth wheel here.” He paused for a second before adding, “She’s the one who insisted I spend a week doing what she calls recharging my batteries.”
    If he was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Kate had no reason to worry that the Tarkett family wanted to either buy or compete with Rainbow’s End, but that was a big if. “This is a great place for battery recharging.”
    Mike wrinkled his nose again, making her wonder if that was a characteristic gesture. “It would be more fun with a companion. I don’t want to sound presumptuous, especially since we’ve just met, but if you don’t have any other plans for the afternoon, I wondered if you’d show me around the place. Maybe we can even play tennis. My mother said the court is supposed to be a good one.”
    He was being presumptuous, but Gillian didn’t care. Spending time with Mike Tarkett might help her discover whether he andhis family had any ulterior motives for his week at