I walk into the shadows of the trees until I see the glint of Skip’s glasses. Then, I reach out and grab his shirt so fast he gasps.
Chapter Nine
“Ms. Henwood!” Skip steps backward. “You scared me!”
“And you didn’t scare me? What the hell are y’all doing hiding in the woods like serial killers? Are you spying on us?”
Jon drops his eyes in a guilty manner, but Skip just smiles. I glare at him and his cowboy hat that’s gradually looking more and more authentic.
“This is a private gathering,” I say. “Between friends. How much of it have you photographed?”
Skip leads me away from Jon and over to the paved walkway that leads to the road. Right in front of us stands a stone sculpture of Jane Austen.
“Is the Make Your Match contest all about Jane’s ghost?” Skip asks me bluntly as he points at the statue. “Or something else?”
I’m too tired and strung out to think straight, so I answer him honestly. “I never wanted anything to do with the ghost legend in the first place.”
“And you don’t think Mr. Wild is deserving of the Mr. Darcy cowboy hat.”
“Not true.” I don’t know why I keep going, but I do. “I want only good for Logan if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I know you care about Logan, and your daddy, and even this ghost.” Skip leans against the statue and takes off his cowboy hat. “But life’s more complicated than just being a Good Samaritan.”
“You don’t know anything.” I surprise myself when I keep going. “You don’t know how hard it is for some people to run an establishment filled with alcohol. Sometimes they just need a chance to prove that they’re up to the task. And my daddy can’t get another chance unless this damn legend gets put to rest. Not that that makes any sense at all. But that’s not the point I’m making. The point is this contest gives my father hope. And who am I to say what someone else needs to get through the day? Or to get through their life?”
“I get it,” Skip says. “I’ve heard about your daddy’s struggles. And what you just said will remain off the record, of course. But I’ve also noticed other things, things you don’t want anyone to see. Same with Mr. Wild.”
I squirm. “You’re a reporter who’s come charging into town and decided he knows everything. Well, you don’t! You don’t know anything, not about my family, or me, or my heart.”
“So it’s got nothing to do with being on Team Ginny and Dave? Maybe it’s more about beating who’s on the other team?”
“Shut up, Skip.”
Skip says nothing, just looks at me earnestly.
“I mean, sure, Gigi’s only half grown up if you ask me. And sure, the life’s gone out of Logan’s eyes, and he and Gigi hardly know each other while Ginny’s been putting up with Dave since she was thirteen. Sure, all of that is true. But I’m not trying to beat Logan. If Logan and Gigi are indeed the soul mates Jane’s been waiting for this past century and a half, I’m not going to stand in their way.”
“You’re certain?” Skip says as he looks at me closely. “You wouldn’t sooner see Gigi trip on her way down the aisle and get so caught up in her train that the whole thing gets called off? Even if it means the beautiful, genius spirit of Jane Austen is trapped forever?”
“Of course not. And you do realize you sound as crazy as my mother, acting like the ghost of Jane Austen is real and in pain.”
“So you’d be okay even if the couple is Logan and a girl who isn’t you?” he presses me.
“Ye-es.” The word catches in my throat, but I push it out. “Even then. I want Logan to be happy, and if that means marrying Gigi, good for him.” I walk away from the statue and gesture Skip to follow me, signaling the conversation closed.
But Skips steps in front of me and blocks my route before either of us can leave. “Whether you really wanted him to or not, I have a proposal for you. One I think you should listen to.”
Headlights catch my eye, and I watch as Gigi and her two sisters emerge from a rental SUV to our right. The three of them head down the hill toward the creek, away from where Skip and I are standing. She never sees me at all.
Skip tracks her movements, and then he holds out his phone to me so I can see the screen.
My eyes widen as he flips through a bunch of photographs—
One of Logan and me down by the creek just now, our mouths so close to one another we look like we’re about to kiss or have maybe already kissed.
Another one of Logan and me laughing while we gaze into each other’s eyes at The Cowherd.
A shot of Gigi hanging onto Logan’s side outside the bar while he’s looking at me.
