SUSAN MEIER - Marrying Money

Her discomfort grew when they headed out of the hall. Most of the group left as soon as the meeting adjourned, and Artie was nowhere around, having gone to turn off the lights. Tanner and Bailey walked through the cement-block entryway alone.

Without giving Bailey a chance to lift her hand to get the doorknob, Tanner reached around her and opened the door. Because she was unaccustomed to such chivalry, she tossed him a puzzled look, and he smiled. Even in the darkened corridor she could see the twinkle in his eyes, the devilment in his grin.

But, oddly, that grin, that symbol of male assurance saved her, because it fueled her determination not to let him get any farther past her defenses than he already had. She refused to be charmed just because he was nice to his ex-wife’s new husband, really would help the committee and was endearingly determined to spend time with her. Because, God help her, even his persistence was starting to seem sweet to her. There had never been a man in her life so interested in her that he would go to such lengths just to be in her company…but she wasn’t going to let that sway her. She wasn’t going to let him charm her. There was no way they could ever have a real relationship and so there was no sense in playing with fire.

She led him to her SUV and unlocked the passenger side door, leaving him no choice but to open it and enter so he could unlock her door for her. Neither said a word while she jumped in, started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

“You’re not upset with me being on the committee, are you?” Tanner asked.

Because they really needed his help and she was smart enough to know that, she said, “No.”

“Well, Artie mentioned that you’re the resident expert, since you have a business degree, and I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like I was usurping your territory.”

Surprised that he seemed genuinely concerned that he might have stepped on her toes when that thought had never even occurred to her, Bailey flashed him a quick, assessing look. “This town can use all the help it can get.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

Bailey nodded. “It takes manpower…or womanpower to get the Federal aid, and find the private grants available to accomplish our special projects. For twenty years we sat back and settled for what we could afford from taxes, and when the flood came we realized it wasn’t much. But the flood was an unexpected blessing, too, because it forced us to apply for Federal money for disaster aid. Now that everybody’s accustomed to dealing with the government, we’re not as inhibited as we had been. And we’re not afraid to go after more, to take the next steps. We have a chance to propel ourselves into the twenty-first century. I want to take it.”

“Well, I’m behind you 100 percent.”

“Really?” she asked, happy to give him the benefit of the doubt. They sure as heck could use his assistance.

“Really,” he confirmed, but as soon as he said it she remembered he was leaving. And soon. He wouldn’t be around to see any of these projects through to completion. She suddenly worried that his popping onto the committee for a few weeks might do more harm than good.

Maneuvering her vehicle onto the rut-filled lane that led to his parents’ small farm, she said, “I’m just a little bit concerned that everybody’s going to be disappointed when you leave.”

“Are you speaking for the committee now, or for yourself?”

Again she cast him a quick, assessing glance. The dim light from the dashboard barely illuminated his handsome face and his short sandy brown hair that was carefully styled to look careless and natural. He had those classic boy-next-door good looks. Light brown hair streaked with yellow by the sun, big green eyes, sun-tanned skin. And at the meeting he had shown her that he could be nice. Considerate. Fair.

Part of her actually wished she could be honest and tell him that she didn’t want to get involved with him because he would leave her and any woman would miss a man like him when he was gone. But if she turned this into a personal discussion, she’d lose the opportunity to explain the very serious concerns she had about him jumping in to help only to disappear in a few weeks.

Using her most patient voice, she said, “Tanner, this town needs help, and these guys respect and like you enough that they’re willing to humble themselves and admit that they don’t know what their next steps should be. I’m afraid if they humble themselves too far, depend on you too much, they’ll lose the confidence it took them all spring to build. And when you’re gone I’ll be starting from scratch again. Cheerleading to make them believe they can do all this. But more than that, this isn’t like the big city where volunteers are a dime a dozen. If you start a hundred projects then leave in the middle of them, we could very well be stranded.”

Her last statement took them to the end of the lane, almost to the bottom step of his parents’ front porch. She jerked the gearshift into park, and faced him, because really that was the bottom line. Not just to his being on the committee, but to his being in her life. “To you this might be noble and sort of fun for the moment, but I’m the one who’s going to be left picking up the pieces or trying to hold everything together when you leave.”

“I won’t leave in the middle of something,” he said, capturing her gaze, looking like he was talking more about them personally, than the town or the committee and its problems. “And I won’t start something that I can’t finish.”

“Getting the funding for some of these projects will take years,” Bailey protested over the ripple of yearning that swept through her at his sincere voice, the honesty in his simple words. She genuinely believed he didn’t understand what he was dragging her or her poor town into. “You’re not going to hang around for years.”

“No,” he agreed, shaking his head to emphasize it. “But there are telephones and fax machines and even e-mail and instant messages. If you want to communicate with someone badly enough, you can.”

That made her laugh. “I’m about the only one in this town who has e-mail and even knows what an instant message is.”

“You’re the only one I care about.”

Her head shot up and she stared at him. Though he had hovered around the fine line between talking about the committee and talking about her, with that comment he crossed over. Fear nearly paralyzed her. No matter how cute he was, how sincere he sounded, how nice he was to the people on her committee, or even how much she wanted this, she absolutely, positively could not get involved with this man. He was leaving. She was staying. They were a disaster waiting to happen. She would not willfully put herself in a position of getting hurt. That would be insanity.

But before she could say anything, he said, “You know what I mean.” Then he grinned and yanked on the handle of the passenger side door. “As long as there is one person to contact, I can be in touch. This isn’t hard, Bailey. Don’t make it hard.”

With that he jumped out and slammed her car door. Bailey waited until he was inside the house before she put her gearshift into drive and bounced her way out of his parents’ lane, feeling oddly empty. But she had done the right thing. She knew she had done the right thing.

It wasn’t until she was at the door of her apartment that she realized he hadn’t made a move to kiss her. And he hadn’t actually flirted with her, either. Most of the time she thought he might have been talking about a relationship with her, he could have been talking about the committee. All he had really done was confuse her.

Or maybe she had confused herself. Since he hadn’t kissed her or tried, hadn’t asked her out or tried. Maybe she was only complimenting herself to think he joined the committee to be with her.