Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,29
collar. I’m listed as her dad and Tara as her aunt. Tara Heinz is a conundrum. On one hand, she’s bossy and antagonizing. On the other hand, she’s kind and caring. You just never know which side of her you’re going to get.
While walking to my truck this morning, I see Tara’s mom getting out of her rental car. “Mrs. Heinz, how are you?” I call out as she walks in my direction, smiling and waving.
“I’m doing well, James, and it’s Gwen. Where are you and Penny off to?” She walks over to pet the dog.
“We’re heading over to my place to let the plumber in. You don’t fancy a drive, do you?” I’m not sure why I’m asking her that, but Tara isn’t with her, so I’m guessing she’s on her own.
“I’d love to go for a drive with you,” she says enthusiastically. “I told Tara I’d have lunch with her, though. Will we be back by twelve-thirty?”
“I’ll make sure we are,” I reply before asking, “Why are you here so early if you aren’t meeting Tara until lunchtime?”
“I was going to see if there were any spa appointments available. If not, I was going to explore a bit. You know, go for a long walk, and then read my book with a nice cup of tea. But I can do those any time.”
I’m one hundred percent confident Tara would hate the idea of her mom spending time alone with me. This perversely makes me happier for the company.
After we get to my truck, I hold the door open for Gwen. Once she’s settled, I hand her Penny. “I’ve never ridden inside a pickup truck before,” Gwen says, looking around like it’s some kind of an exotic experience.
“That seems kind of hard to believe,” I tell her. I mean, who hasn’t ridden in a pickup? The concept is foreign to me.
“I grew up in Los Angeles,” she says by way of explanation.
Once we hit the main road, I start to point out areas of potential interest. “If you stay on Christmas Tree Lane for five miles, you can park at the falls and have a picnic.” I point to a farm on the left. “The Drummonds have a fantastic haunted-cornfield on Halloween night. They serve some pretty interesting grain alcohol they flavor with pumpkin and chilis. Maybe you can come back for it next year.”
“As enticing as that sounds, I hope Tara’s home by then,” she says making it sound like her daughter’s stay in Oregon has been preordained a short one. That wouldn’t have surprised me if Tara hadn’t recently suggested otherwise.
“You don’t like her living here?” I ask. Not that any mom wants their kids to move away, but after our conversation last night, I thought Gwen was happy her daughter was out of the limelight.
“I’m happy Tara is happy,” she says. “I just want her to be closer to home, is all.”
“I get that. My mom has been on a campaign to get my brother to move home.”
“Any luck?” she asks.
“Yes and no. She set him up with the daughter of her best friend who lives in New York. They’re living there now, but Brogan is building a house on the lodge property. When it’s done, it’ll be his home base.”
“You never left town?” Gwen wants to know.
“I came back right after college and started to save money to buy my own farm. I guess you might say I’m something of a homebody.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she assures me. “Tara has traveled more than she’s stayed put. I think she needs to lay down some roots. I just don’t want her doing that too far away from me.”
“Do you work?” I ask. Gwen doesn’t look a day over sixty, but there’s something about her relaxed aura that leads me to think she’s without the stress of employment.
“I owned a gift shop, but I sold it last year,” she tells me.
“Do you have other kids in the Los Angeles area?” She shakes her head, so I suggest, “Then if Tara likes it here, you could always join her, right?”
“I’d never thought of that,” she says as we pull into my driveway. “Until recently I assumed my daughter was going to marry Romaine and stay in Bel Air. Her relocation to the Pacific Northwest was a bit unexpected.”
I pull into my regular parking spot next to the barn which is also next to Hank’s truck. He’s not in it though, and I wonder where he went.