Free Forgiving Jackson by Alicia Hunter Pace Page A

these people’s lives.”
    “In reality, you can’t stop me. And you can’t know I’m going ‘back out there,’ as you say.”
    “True, on both counts. But you can’t put a talent like yours in a Mason jar. And you don’t want to blunder through here like a two-year-old knocking down his brother’s Lego fort.”
    “I do.” He nodded. “I want to step on the Lego fort. I want it gone.”
    “Then go ahead.” She pulled the laptop toward her. “I’ll email the quilters right now. Then I’ll call Christian and Noel.”
    She began to type.
    “Wait,” he said, though he hadn’t known he was going to speak. “Let me see the calendar.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Emory’s hands shook as she brought up the Around the Bend calendar. If he called her bluff now, what would she do? Where would she go?
    “I want to see the rest of June, plus July and August. No more. No less.”
    She brought it up and swung it around toward him.
    She expected him to have another come apart once he saw how solidly they were booked. But he just closed his eyes and shook his head. “Wedding. Engagement party. Three—no four—tours. Wedding. Sweet sixteen birthday. Wedding. Wedding. Anniversary. Mother/daughter luncheon. And the always charming charm school.”
    “You’ll see that I’ve blocked off the days around the Fourth of July for the benefit concert you do for the Vanderbilt burn unit every year.” It was actually the Camille Beauford Memorial Concert but something told her not to mention his little sister’s name. “Amelia said you used to have a party for the performers and sometimes invite them to stay here. I know you haven’t done that recently but she always made sure it was available if you wanted to and I did the same.”
    He acted as if she hadn’t spoken and continued to mutter. “Fifty-year school reunion. Belmont Panhellenic Picnic. What’s that? Never mind. I don’t care. Wedding, tour, wedding. You don’t let any grass grow under your feet, do you?”
    She shrugged.
    “I’m not even going to remind you again that I told you not to book anything else.”
    “You just did. And thank you for not reminding me.”
    He looked at the ceiling. “I must be crazy. I must be absolutely off my rocker. There’s not another man alive who would make this offer.”
    Offer?
Was it possible she had bought some time in her safe place? Any was better than none. But she needed to continue to appear confident.
    “Stop sitting there congratulating yourself and tell me the offer.”
    “Why do you act like you’re holding all the cards?” he demanded. “You have no control.”
    “I know. I’m at your mercy.”
    “If I let you carry on through August, can you guarantee my privacy? Will you swear to keep them out of my way and away from my stuff?”
    Relief settled over her. She’d worry about the fall later. “Yes. I can. They’ll never know you’re on the place.”
    “All right.” He spread his hands in surrender. “But hear me, Emory, and hear me well. I don’t even want to know what you’ve got booked after August. I don’t want to hear about any parties to kick off football season, scarecrow-making competitions, or jack-o’-lantern-themed weddings. No taffy pulls, hayrides, or Amish-impersonating costume parties. Because they are not going to happen—not on my property. As of September first, you are out of here.”
    “But what about Christian and the others?”
What about me?
    “I’m getting to that. I suggest you move Around the Bend to Firefly Hall. I’ll give you the rights to the business name and all the client contacts. You can have all the extra dishes, napkins, and little geegaws that were bought in the name of the business. I’ll even pay your salary until you’re up and going.”
    Her heart sank. “It won’t work. Firefly Hall is not as big as Beauford Bend or as grand. There simply isn’t room.”
    He considered this for a minute. “Okay. I can see that. You shut down for a year, except