On Lone Star Trail by Amanda Cabot Page A

Rainbow’s End. “It probably is a good court, but I can’t play.”
    Though his hat shaded his eyes, Gillian detected a note of regret in Mike’s voice as he said, “I should have realized you’d have something else planned.”
    â€œIt’s not that. I meant ‘can’t’ literally. I’ve never played tennis.”
    â€œOh.” He paused, evidently digesting the idea. Based on what Kate had said, Mike was part of the country club set, where women were expected to be accomplished tennis players. Had Gillian not been a pianist, Dad would have insisted she learn to play, but music classes, her practice schedule, and the fear of falling and injuring her hands had kept her off the court.
    Today was the first time Gillian wished she’d taken tennis lessons. A match or two might be a good way to pass the time. And a match with Mike would be fun. His smile was so warm and welcoming that Gillian suspected he wouldn’t mind if her skill level was far below Wimbledon.
    â€œMaybe we could do something else,” he suggested.
    Gillian looked at the now dry ground. Something else—anything else—sounded like a good idea. “My feet are in good working condition,” she told him. “Once you’ve checked in, we can wander around the resort if you’d like.”
    Which was how she found herself strolling along the edge of Bluebonnet Lake with Mike Tarkett. Gillian had walked this way half a dozen times before, and each time she’d discovered something new. Today instead of natural beauty, she was discovering that Mike was unlike the other men she’d met.
    On the surface, he resembled her manager and some of the other performers, but there were differences. Though he had the same careful grooming and obviously expensive haircut, Mike was more handsome than the other men. He was at least as confident as the others, but on Mike that confidence seemed natural, not tinged with arrogance. Best of all, there was no initial awkwardness between them. Instead, Gillian felt as ifshe’d known Mike for ages. It was an unexpectedly comfortable feeling.
    â€œThis place is even more beautiful than I’d heard,” he said as they walked by the lakefront cottages. As far as Gillian could tell, there were no undertones to his statement, no hidden agendas. Mike appeared to be looking for nothing more than a vacation.
    â€œIt’s obviously your first time here.”
    â€œYeah.” He paused and stared across the small lake. The light breeze had died down, leaving the water almost as smooth as glass. It was no wonder Kate and Greg stocked rowboats rather than catamarans.
    Mike tipped his head to one side, reminding Gillian of a robin listening for a worm. She wouldn’t tell him that, of course, for what man wanted to be compared to a worm-eating bird?
    â€œI’ve lived in the Hill Country my whole life and must have driven by Dupree thousands of times, but I never bothered to turn off the highway.” Mike shifted his weight and looked down at Gillian. “It was only after the reopening got so much press coverage that it hit my mother’s radar screen.” He chuckled. “Mom’s going to gloat when I tell her she was right: this is the perfect place.”
    Gillian’s antennae began to quiver, and she reconsidered her assessment of Mike’s motives. Maybe he was looking for something more than a break in his routine. “Perfect for what?”
    â€œFor relaxing. What did you think I meant?”
    There was nothing to be lost by being honest. “I wasn’t sure. There’s been speculation that your family might be expanding its horizons.”
    â€œIt’s true. We’re talking about it.” Mike gave her a self-deprecating smile. “To be more accurate, my parents are talking. I’m listening.”
    â€œWere they talking about a hotel or a resort?”
    Surely the confusion Gillian