Lone Star Valentine. Cathy Gillen Thacker

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      “No surprise there,” Rose said heatedly. She stepped in to peel and slice the carrots. “Given the way Bode dissed you in the press at the end... If I had been you, I would have thrown him to the wolves from the get-go.”

      “Instead,” Violet recollected, grabbing a cutting board and knife, too, “you made everything a lot easier on Bode than he deserved.”

      Lily got the makings for a balsamic vinaigrette out of the cupboard, along with a bowl and whisk. “I got what I wanted out of the deal.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “The truth about Lucas’s parentage corroborated, full custody and the right to make all the decisions about his care and upbringing on my own.”

      Rose checked to make sure all four children were still safely out of earshot, then returned to the kitchen island. “What did Lucas think when he saw his dad was in town?” she asked.

      Lily whisked the salad dressing together with more than necessary force. “He doesn’t know.”

      Again, her sisters exchanged looks. “You didn’t let Bode see him?” Violet inquired in surprise.

      Lily looked at her resident-physician sister. “He never asked. He came in with his team of experts for backup, then left when he didn’t get what he wanted.”

      “So what next?” Rose asked as she began setting the table.

      Lily shrugged, refusing to borrow trouble. “Nothing that concerns me. Or Lucas.”

      Violet paused. “You don’t think Bode will pursue this?”

      When there were other, much easier ways to improve his public image? Lily shook her head. “Nope.” Instead, she expected to see Bode visiting sick kids in the children’s hospitals, working with the underprivileged or creating a foundation in his name. All with a photographer present.

      “What about Gannon Montgomery?” Rose teased, taking a lighter tact. “Are you going to pursue him?”

      Flushing guiltily despite herself, Lily took the lasagna from the oven and set it on the stove to cool. “Definitely not!”

      Evidently more curious about the lack of love in Lily’s life than her own, Violet asked, “Is he going to pursue you?”

      Trying not to think about how much the deeply romantic part of her still wanted that to happen, Lily inched off her oven mitts. “Gannon and I put that notion to bed a long time ago.” She pushed the image of his handsome face out of her mind. As well as the one of him naked between the sheets that followed. “We found out the hard way that we’re too different to even be friends.” Never mind lovers!

      Rose frowned. “He’s still not inclined to compromise?”

      “In his case,” Lily replied stubbornly, “I’m not, either.” Not when she knew how deep the attraction between them still was.

      Gannon had devastated her once.

      She wasn’t going to let him do it again.

      * * *

      TO LILY’S RELIEF, there was no further communication from Bode or any member of his team either that evening or the following day.

      So it was with a much lighter heart that she went to the unveiling ceremony for the statue by Harriett Montgomery on Friday morning.

      The artwork was already on the cement platform that had been built just for it on the town square. Nearly six feet tall, the statue was draped with heavy canvas cloth, secured by ropes.

      Around that, a velvet rope line had been set up, giving the statue approximately twenty feet in all directions. A crowd of townspeople, including local resident and Texas patron of the arts Emmett Briscoe, had gathered around the podium erected for the dedication. A videographer had set up as well, to record the ceremony for posterity.

      As suspected, Gannon Montgomery was there, too, escorting his mother. Fortunately, he was busy talking to some people he hadn’t seen in a while as Lily went over to greet the artist.

      Clad in her usually brightly colored attire—today’s pantsuit was a vibrant orange—her salt-and-pepper hair drawn back in a tight chignon that emphasized the stark natural beauty of her features, Harriet Montgomery looked both excited and much younger than her sixty-five years.

      Lily gave her former high school art teacher a hug hello. “Ready for your big moment?” she asked.

      Harriett nodded. “As I explained to you before, I’m going to do the undraping myself. I’d like photos for the paper taken then, and again after I add the final touch.”

      Lily nodded, not sure what the final touch would be. “The photographer from the Laramie newspaper is all set.”

      Given that everyone else was there, too, Lily stepped to the podium. She gave a brief introduction to Harriett Montgomery, and then it was time.

      Harriett moved past the rope lines. Then pulled off the draping, revealing a six foot high chili pepper on the vine.

      It was, as Lily had expected, quite beautiful in a stark, elemental way. And the perfect complement to the Laramie Chili Cook-Off & Festival they were inaugurating, that they hoped would put the town of Laramie, Texas, on the way to fame forevermore.

      Still smiling while everyone clapped politely, Harriett posed for the photos she had requested. Then, with the videographer still filming, Harriett stepped behind the statue and reached down to do something near the bottom—Lily wasn’t sure what—before straightening again and coming proudly back to the podium.

      Lily looked at the artist in confusion.

      Harriett took the microphone and advised the crowd happily, “Wait for it... Wait for it...”

      A second later, a faint charcoal-like smell filled the air.

      Lily furrowed her brow in confusion.

      Then a wispy gray curl of what certainly looked like smoke appeared at the top of the chili pepper stem. Lily blinked and blinked again.

      “Is that...?” Lily turned to Gannon’s mother. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Gannon seemed as concerned as she suddenly was.

      “Keep waiting,” Harriett advised, even more calmly, to the crowd.

      So everyone did.

      And then, a second later, flames burst out of the six-foot-tall chili pepper. And this time there was absolutely no mistake, Lily noted.

      The entire statue was on fire.

       Chapter Three

      The fire department had barely put the flames out when former Laramie mayor Rex Carter stepped up to the dais and took the microphone. “This,” Rex said, with a derisive good old boy snort, “is what you get when you put a woman in a man’s job.”

      Several people booed him.

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