Read Online On Lone Star Trail by Amanda Cabot - Free Book Online Page B

lifestyle as Greg’s wife and the owner of a resort, Gillian could not imagine doing anything similar. There was no one like Greg in her life to make such a dramatic change seem appealing.
    TJ stroked his chin, leaving Gillian to wonder if he missedhaving a beard. “Have you thought about teaching? I’m not talking about a public school. You’d need certification for that, but what about private lessons? I imagine parents would pay well to have someone with your credentials teaching their kids.”
    Gillian shook her head. Her manager had suggested the same thing shortly before they parted company. She had refused then, and she was refusing now. “That’s not for me.”
    Gillian wouldn’t insult TJ by telling him her father would be horrified if she even entertained the idea. Admittedly, that was part of the reason she hadn’t considered teaching, but it was only part. The primary reason was that she doubted she could establish the rapport with her pupils that would be needed to succeed. TJ seemed to have an instinctive bond with teens, while Gillian was ill at ease with children of any age, perhaps because she’d had so little experience with them. Though she had a nephew, Gabriel was twenty-four, only five years her junior.
    â€œI’m not good with kids,” she told TJ.
    â€œOh, I wouldn’t say that. You held your own with those girls last night.”
    â€œBut I felt uncomfortable every second we were there.”
    His skepticism obvious, TJ shook his head. “Then you ought to consider a career in acting. You didn’t look uncomfortable.”
    â€œWell, I was. Teaching’s not for me. The problem is, I don’t know what I’m going to do next,” Gillian said, hating the way her voice threatened to quaver. “What I do know is that I need a clean break. Music is my past.”
    TJ’s lips thinned, and he stared out the windshield, his expression inscrutable. “I hear what you’re saying, and I understand why you feel that way. I know you don’t want advice—I didn’t either—but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t outrun your past.”

    TJ hated the way Gillian’s face fell. It might have been kinder to say nothing, and yet he’d felt compelled to share the little he’d learned with her. When he’d embarked on what was beginning to feel like an odyssey, he’d believed it was what he needed to close a chapter of his life. At the time it had seemed like the right—perhaps the only—thing to do.
    There’d been no deathbed promises, no tearful moments talking about Deb’s still incomplete bucket list. Instead, during those final months they’d spoken of the places they’d seen, the adventures they’d had. It had seemed cruel to talk about a future here on Earth when Deb had none, and so TJ had kept them focused on the past.
    Was that a mistake? Was he wrong in believing that finishing Deb’s bucket list would bring him closure? TJ didn’t know. All he knew was that the past still dominated his thoughts, and he had no idea what he would do once he checked off the final park.
    A year ago he had thought that by now the future would be clear, but it was still as opaque as the Yellowstone mud pots that had fascinated Deb. TJ could only hope—he’d long since stopped praying—that Gillian would be more fortunate.
    â€œI’d like to help you,” he told her, “but one other thing I’ve learned is that you need to find your own answers.” If only he could find his.
    â€œThat’s all right. As you guessed, I’ve gotten my share of advice and don’t really want any more.” Gillian paused for a second, apparently concentrating on the road, before she said, “There is one thing you can do for me, though.”
    TJ looked at her, surprised there was anything he could do for her.