“You don’t want to pursue legal action, do you?” Jillian asked.
“I’m afraid it will cause more hurt, more bitter words, and for what? What will it achieve? I have everything I want right here.” Caroline waved that same hand around, this time with more vigor. “Already this brouhaha has sent Cole and Dixie running off to elope.”
Because they hadn’t thought it an appropriate time to arrange and celebrate a wedding, with all that was going on. Of course that bothered Caroline. She’d married Spencer quickie-Vegas-style, and Jillian had followed suit.
Not exactly happy precedents.
“Selfish, I know,” she said softly, “but I wanted to be there.”
Jillian leaned across and took one of her mother’s hands in her own. “No, not selfish. A mother’s right.”
One they all should have recognized earlier, one they’d lost sight of in all the acrimony. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make amends…
“You know what I’m thinking?” she said, a smile brimming as the idea gathered momentum.
“Please, Jillian, if it is anywhere near as wicked as that glint in your eyes, you can stop thinking it right now.”
“Wicked? I don’t think so.” She tipped her head to the side, considering. “Unless we make it a surprise party—and that would serve them right, seeing as they surprised us all by running off to tie the knot.”
The smile started in Caroline’s eyes, then spread all over her face. Her fingers curled around Jillian’s and held on tight.
“A party to celebrate Cole and Dixie’s marriage? Oh, yes, Jillie, that is a fine idea!”
They sat a moment, hands still linked, smiling at each other and the possibilities. A family celebration, a reason to laugh and dance and remember what mattered. Oh, yes, it was a very fine idea, even if she did say so herself!
“If Travis comes through—” Jillian mentally crossed both fingers and toes “—if he can do the renovation right away, we could hold it in the tasting room.”
“A wedding reception cum launch party,” Caroline murmured. “When?”
“Would early May be good?”
“Spring. The season of rebirth.” Jillian felt her mother’s hand move, felt the touch of her thumb against the wedding band she wore. Never had she commented on that symbol’s continued presence, and she didn’t now. She simply looked into her daughter’s eyes, rubbed her thumb along the gold band again, and said, “It’s the perfect time to forget past problems and concentrate on new beginnings, don’t you think?”
Jillian felt herself tense. Oh, no, this was not about her, not in any sense.
She started to shake her head, but Caroline blinked and her gaze shifted, as if distracted by something out of Jillian’s view. She pulled her hand away and pointed. “That will be your builder, stopping up by the stables.”
Now why would he do that? Was he lost, despite her specific directions to meet at the winery?
Jillian frowned as she gathered up her reins and urged Marsanne around.
“He’s early. Now that’s a change for the—” The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she caught sight of the truck. Her mouth probably hung open for a second. Her pulse definitely jumped.
“Is something the matter?” Caroline asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” Jillian answered slowly. Except for the fact that Travis Carmody drove a weather-beaten red truck, and this one was a distinctive shade of blue.
Her hands must have clenched with involuntary tension because beneath her Marsanne started to prance, her muscles bunching as if preparing for flight. Jillian settled deep in the saddle and soothed her in a low voice.
“I think she’s keen for a last gallop home,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you go on ahead?” When Jillian demurred, she shooed her off. “Go on, Jillie. I’ll potter back at my own pace. If your builder finds the barn deserted, he might not hang around.”
“Sorry, bud, I didn’t understand a word of that. I don’t speak horse.”
Seth didn’t feel all that comfortable speaking to a horse either, but this particular horse seemed to expect a reply…although calling the short-legged equine a horse might be stretching things. Whatever, the animal had a real gift of gab. Not your usual horsey neigh or squeal—his pony-mad Rachel had mastered both, along with a credible mane toss—but an eloquent combination of sounds and facial expressions.
A regular modern-day Mr. Ed, only shorter.
Mini Ed’s ears pricked up, his attention shifting to the open doors at the end of the barn. Seth heard it then, the thud of hooves striking the ground in a deep rolling rhythm, and his body quickened with expectation.
His companion whinnied and snorted. Seth managed not to, at least out loud.
He strolled over to the doorway in time to see horse and rider loom into sight. He knew Jillian rode, that before marrying Jason she’d competed in three-day events, but he’d never seen her on horseback. And the five minutes he’d spent cooling his heels in the barn hadn’t nearly prepared him for the impact.
Sure, he knew those mile-long legs would look spectacular wrapped around pretty much anything, including a huge gray horse. But he’d pictured her straight-backed and ladylike as she approached at a collected pace, not bent over the monster’s neck and thundering up the hill at full speed.
Not out of control, he decided, although that didn’t stop his whole body tensing for the eight seconds it took her to steady and slow to a walk. Seth let his breath go on a long gust that mixed relief with a strange sense of discovery. This was a Jillian he hadn’t seen before, her face flushed with exhilaration, her eyes shimmering as they locked with his.
So, the cool and prissy lady got off on speed. Who would have thought?
“Nice morning for a ride,” he said pleasantly.
“Nice?” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Nice doesn’t do this sort of morning justice.”
“Point taken,” Seth murmured as she reined the horse to a stop.
When she swung her leg over and started to slide down, he moved in to catch her. After all, it was a long way to the ground. And somehow—despite his architect’s eye for perspective and measurement—he managed to misjudge the distance. Probably because he was distracted by the curves of her backside, clad in stretchy riding pants that fit like a second skin, coming right for him.
His vision actually glazed over for a second. The next, his hands were on her hips and sliding to her waist as that tight little backside connected with his front side. Quick, accidental, over before the heat burned right through his pants.
Yet the quick hitch of her breath, the instant tension in the lithe body beneath his hands, told him she’d felt something, too.
Yeah, well, she had cause.
Reluctantly he let her go, stepping back enough that she didn’t elbow him anywhere delicate when she started doing whatever had to be done with her saddle. It appeared to be quite a bit.
“Need a hand?” he asked after several seconds of watching her tug and fuss with straps.
“I can manage. And I’m actually quite competent at getting off my horse unassisted, too.”
He made a note for future reference.
“What are