“It’s made our whole town—not to mention the chili festival—out to be a joke!” Sonny Sanderson added. Which was a problem for him and his family, because he’d been hoping his barbecue restaurant would sell a lot of food at the event if attendance was even moderately high. Now that might all be for naught—for all the restaurateurs and food vendors planning to take part.
A familiar low male voice joined in. “It gets even more interesting. A Dallas TV station news crew is interviewing my mother as we speak.”
Everyone moved to make way for Gannon Montgomery. He’d thrown a leather jacket over his usual shirt and jeans. With a black Stetson slanted across his brow, he looked sexier than ever.
“Sorry,” Oscar Gentry, another retired teacher said. “No disrespect meant for your mother, son.”
“But we don’t want to see her or her art ridiculed, and the way things are going,” Yvonne Gentry, another retired teacher, kindly concurred, “Harriett will be made out to be a laughingstock.”
Lily—who’d had no time to pull on a coat herself before meeting with the crowd—searched desperately for a solution. “Maybe if we put up a framed explanation beside it, letting people know it’s part sculpture and part performance art—”
Around her, everyone paused, exchanged looks, slowly shook their heads. “It’s got to be moved to a less conspicuous place than the town square,” Miss Mim insisted.
Emmett Briscoe, oilman and art collector extraordinaire, joined them on the front porch of Lily’s Craftsman. Nearing seventy, he was still a big, robust, handsome bear of a man. As well as a community and state leader. “Why not put it at the fairgrounds?” he said. “Where the chili cook-off and festival is going to be held? We can put it behind glass in the exhibition hall, along with the explanation that Lily suggested. And then decide what to do with it once the festival is over.”
“Given all the publicity we’ve already had, festival-goers are going to expect to see it.” Lily looked at Gannon for support. “We may as well capitalize on that.”
Rex Carter scoffed. “How much money is it going to cost to move it?”
“Since it’s just from one place to another, and is only the one sculpture, I’m sure it won’t be much,” Lily said. At least she hoped that was the case.
More grumbling followed.
“Give me until Monday afternoon to come up with a definite plan,” Lily urged.
Marybeth Simmons, the leader of the local PTA, huffed, “Well, see that you keep us informed. All our organizations are relying on the money we hope to raise Valentine’s Day weekend to fund our projects for the rest of the year.”
“I will.” Lily thanked everyone for coming, and slowly the crowd dispersed until it was just Lily and Gannon on her front porch.
Shivering, she decided to take the conversation inside her Craftsman-style bungalow. The downstairs had been remodeled into one large space—living room, kitchen and dining area, with a laundry room, half bath and screened-in porch at the rear. Upstairs, she had two bedrooms and a full bathroom.
“How is your mother doing?” Lily asked, grabbing her heavy red wool shawl-collared sweater and slipping it on over her turtleneck and jeans.
Gannon removed his hat before stepping across the threshold and left it on the coatrack in the foyer. Then he followed her over to the fireplace, looking as tense and frustrated as she felt. “Let’s just say she’s had lots of phone messages and emails, not all of them complimentary.”
Lily poked at the fire already burning in the grate. “I don’t think anyone understands it, or what it represents.” She slid the poker back into the stand, then turned to face Gannon. “Not the way your mother meant anyway.”
He stood, hands braced on his hips, pushing the edges of his jacket back. “Even worse—I don’t think my mother cares if they do or they don’t,” he said.
Deciding she could use a hot beverage, Lily headed for her kitchen. “That is the mark of a true artist.”
“Or an eccentric,” Gannon countered mildly as he looked around, taking in the comfy denim furniture, distressed wood floors and multicolored area rugs. There were toy bins and books galore, most stored in a built-in shelving system on one wall of the living room, as well as a nice entertainment center, complete with stereo TV and DVD player.
Lily paused, pleased that he seemed to like the cozy but practical interior of her home. Not that it mattered.
“You doubt your mother’s talent?” she asked.
Gannon watched Lily fill the teakettle and set it on the stove. Brawny arms folded in front of him, he tilted his head, thinking. “All I know for certain is that I don’t want to see my mom hurt by all the controversy.”
Lily brought out the tea basket and two mugs, glad they were on the same page. “I don’t, either.” She chose an apricot-vanilla blend while Gannon selected an English tea, known for its strong but mellow flavor. “But I’m afraid if we do nothing, this situation will snowball into a real travesty.” Gannon’s gaze narrowed. “Do you think I should ask her to return the commission and withdraw the statue from the chili festival of her own volition?”
“I admit that would solve a lot of problems for me and the town immediately.”
Gannon took off his jacket and looped it over the back of one of the high stools against the granite-topped island. “But...?” he asked, as he sat down.
Finding the sudden intimacy of the situation a little too intense, Lily turned her eyes to the pale blue walls of her kitchen, then admitted, “I worry what even the suggestion she take back her art would do to your mom.”
“Well, she won’t be happy about it...that’s for sure.”
As their gazes met again, Lily forged on, “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I understand this was your mother’s first serious work. It was a huge honor to even be asked by the town to do this, so to then have it poorly received and hidden away...” She shook her head, barely able to say the words, yet Gannon’s expression remained courtroom inscrutable. “Come on, even you, Mr. I’ll-Never-Compromise-Under-Any-Situation, can see that’s no solution to the dilemma!” she finished emotionally.
Sighing, Gannon shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re right about that. My mother’s art is every bit as important to her as my career is to me. She waited a long time to be able to pursue it the way she has always wanted to—with all her heart and soul.”
Gannon sobered even more. “I don’t want to see her pushed into putting her dreams on hold by the people around her any more than I would want to give up my own quest for success.”
Reminded of how truly ambitious both Montgomerys were at heart, Lily said quietly, “I don’t, either.”
Gannon moved closer, his expression intent.
“Then what is the solution?”
“I don’t know,” Lily said quietly, her heart kicking into a faster beat. She moved to the other side of the counter as the teakettle began to whistle. “But I’m sure if we take a few days to think about it, we’ll come up with something a heck of a lot better than what you’ve just suggested.”
His gaze still locked with hers, he flashed a crooked smile. “I’m all for a better solution.” He watched her add hot water to the mugs, then rummage around for cookies. “Speaking of family, is Lucas okay with all of the commotion this has caused for you personally?”
Touched to find Gannon thinking of the little boy he had yet to actually meet, Lily admitted in relief, “My parents took him to San Angelo for lunch and a movie with just the two of them. Grandparent Saturday, they call it. So luckily, he didn’t see any of it.”
Lily