Second Song Cowboy (Second Chance) (6 page)

His words before he walked out of the room seeped into every cell of her mind. Why didn’t she know that he’d stayed with Gramps during his last moments? Why hadn’t Dante called her and told her that Gramps was dying?

Deep inside the recesses of her heart, she realized she could only accept responsibility for what she’d done. Earlobes deep in her career, she’d overlooked those she cared for. Dante was right, when he’d encouraged her to leave and follow her music career, she’d left and never went back. That was her choice. She couldn’t change the truth.

Yet, his cold attitude left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Knock! Knock!

April sat up. Had Dante come back?

If he had, she’d go home with him. No matter what the consequences held.

Swiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks, she stood up and wrapped the sheet around her body before finally making her way to open the door.
Distress made her shoulders slump. “Kiefer? I thought you were waiting for me downstairs?”

With an exasperated sigh, he brushed past her. “I totally get the cowboy craving.
He left a few whiplashed necks on his way through the lobby, but he’s gone. No excuses. Get dressed so we can make our plane.” He turned on loafers and his smile fizzled. “Are those tears? You had
that
tall, sexy beast in your bed and you’re crying?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Give me ten and I’ll be ready to leave this place.”

Inside the bathroom, behind closed door, she sucked back another sob and put all thoughts of Dante to rest.

Chapter Four

“SHE CALLED AGAIN.”

Dante looked up as he laid the saddle pad across the horses back. “What did you say, Deck?
Someone called?”

“Cassie. She l
eft a message for me to give you,” Deckland said from the doorway.

“Good girl, Sophie.”
Dante patted the horse on the neck. He didn’t look at his brother as he picked up the saddle and placed it on her, making sure it was centered.

“Don’t you want to hear?”

Shrugging, Dante continued to mess with the leather straps. “If you think I need to.”

“She wants you to call her. Must be important since she’s called twice today,” he said with
a large dose of sarcasm.

Dante glanced over the horse’s back, meeting his brother’s gaze. “I’ll get right to it.”

“When are you going to get over it?” Deckland helped secure the saddle.

“I am over Cassie,” Dante practically growled the words.

“I’m not talking about her, bro. I’m referring to whatever it is that’s had your balls in a sling for the last couple of months. I noticed the difference about the same time you took off to the Houston Rodeo. Are you still pissed because you’re no longer in the rodeo? Hell, if it means that much to you, I’ll take the trailer, pick up a mean-ass bull and bring him back for you.”

Dante’s chest tightened. “We move on. That’s part of life.”
He’d allow Deckland to think whatever, but he couldn’t tell him about the night he’d spent with April. He’d rather keep the experience, and what happened after, to himself. “When are you going to get a life of your own and quit stressing about mine?” Dante asked.

“Get your shit
together and I won’t have to worry,” Deckland huffed.

“Damn, Deck, whatever gave you the idea that you have to worry about Dillon and me? We’re big boys. It’s time you
started thinking about your future. What happened to that woman you were seeing? Aspen, right?”

Deckland scratched his jaw. “I’m not into long distance relationships. So what’s with the sudden thought about our future, bro?”

“None of us are getting any younger.” Dante wondered if he could let go of the past and move on, find someone he could see himself with forever. Something about the word forever scared him shitless. Maybe he knew deep inside once he committed himself completely, through thick and thin, he’d never give up.

“Does this mood have anything to do with April
Rayne’s appearance at the arena?”

At the mention of her name, every muscle on Dante’s body clenched. “Hell no!”

“Sure, if you say so.” Deckland chuckled. “Anyway, Peyton dropped off a buttermilk pie. Better grab a piece before I eat all of it. I think our sister-in-law is attempting to fatten us up.” He rubbed his belly and Dante smirked. His brother didn’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on his brawny frame.

“I’ll be up after I take a ride.” Dante slid into the saddle.
“If Cassie calls again tell her the truth.”

“And what exactly is the truth?”

“That I’ve ridden off into the sunset without her.” He snapped the reins and Sophie took off into a trot. Deckland opened the fence and Dante led the horse toward the open field. He needed a long, hard ride to help him get over his anger. He wasn’t sure why his blood still boiled, but it certainly had nothing to do with Cassie.

His mind wa
ndered back to the argument he had with April.

Damn
, why should he feel any guilt? He’d only been honest.

The hurt he’d seen in her eyes
when he’d mentioned the death of her grandpa Liam still haunted him. Somehow, the one night they’d spent together had broken the layers to the wounds he thought were mended. Being near her again reminded him of the man he once was, how he’d wanted to share his life with April.

Pfft!
He needed to bury his useless dreams.

The best thing he could do for her was stay
as far away as possible. He should never have gone to see her after the show, but when he’d seen her step on stage, her hair wild around twinkling eyes and bright smile, he’d taken a quick stroll down memory lane and he’d found himself craving more.

While others at the concert had shouted, screamed and clapped, he’d sat quietly, thinking of her when she was nineteen and how she’d turned him inside out
.

Hell, she still could.

He gave the reins a shake and Sophie took off into a gallop. “Let’s make this a fast one, girl.”

****

April hated the doctor’s office. Always had. The sanitized smell and medical information glaring back at her made her cringe. She could feel her blood pressure rise a few points as she donned the ghastly flowered robe. Whoever was responsible for the patient wardrobe needed thrashed with an ugly feather.

Groaning, she snapped the last button, tugged the robe into place and pushed the button on the wall to le
t the doctor know she was ready. The air conditioning kicked on and a cool breeze seeped through the thin material, making her nipples tighten.
Who needs the temperature this cold?

She shouldn’t have come.

Kiefer demanded she take the time out of her busy schedule to see a doctor. She’d passed out after her performance in Utah and he’d freaked out. Odd considering he was a drill sergeant in designer clothes who never believed in taking time out from the business, even for a doctor.

Fatigue had gotten the best of her. Hell, more than fatigue
. Drained was a better word. This was all Kiefer’s fault and she’d made that clear. He worked her like a horse, always throwing it in her face how younger country singers were making their way on the scene.

Yeah, she understood
how fresh talent was sidestepping the old. She refused to wear tighter shirts, shorter skirts and appear naked in a smut magazine to earn album sales. If she didn’t do it in her twenties, she certainly wasn’t going to now.

Restless
, she scanned the tray of plastic gadgets that would be inserted into a place on her body that needed more than a medical tool. The nurse reminded her that she was overdue for her pap and the doctor wanted to do a quick exam. The last thing she wanted was to have something cold inside of her when all she’d done was crave a cowboy since he’d disappeared from her hotel room two months ago.

Probably for the best.

A man like Dante could make her do just about anything with a flash of his wide smile. How had he gotten sexier with age? How had he slipped in and turned her to mush? Hadn’t she learned her lesson years ago that he was a danger to the balance between her head and heart?

Why couldn’t she forget him?
Years passed, but his memory remained. She’d even married another man with no luck of purging memories. Dante had haunted her thoughts, her dreams, making her wish for things that weren’t possible. Why did she still love him after so long?

Love?!?

Nonsense.

A tear
escaped one eye and she quickly brushed it away.

Since that night
in Houston, she couldn’t seem to get over a streak of the blues, laughing one second, crying the next. She was becoming a basket case. Maybe she’d visited the wrong type of doctor.

Did she regret the night she’d spent in Dante’s arms? Not even in the slightest. But s
he’d move on, just as she had before.

Looking for something to occupy her
, she grabbed a colorful pamphlet from the display case and read the front, “Sexually Transmitted Diseases.” Opening the cover, a horrifying picture made the contents in her stomach roll. She knew she shouldn’t have pigged out on the eggs, bacon, toast and fruit. Her eating habits were malfunctioning.

Replacing
the brochure, she scanned a few others. Birth Control.
Not needed.
Lactation.
Sheesh! Even worse.

Skipping over the magazines boasting photo shopped models, she hadn’t read
anything in print since being nominated as the year’s worst dress singer a few years back.

Exp
loring the contents on the sink—gloves, soap and tubes of KY Jelly—she stopped and stared at the fetus model set. Her head screamed for her to move on. She was far from starting a family, but her curiosity paralyzed her. Touching the biggest of the detailed models, she jerked her hand back. The skin felt so life-like. Taking the model from the plastic nest, she weighed it in her palm. A baby at full-term.

S
adness crawled through her, strumming all of her maternal drives. Once upon a time, she’d thought she could balance a career in music and a family. How could she think of having children when she couldn’t even make a relationship work?

Bringing
the generic baby against her chest, she closed her eyes, imaging just for a minute that she was holding her own baby.

Knock! Knock!

The door swung open.

She jerked and
the fake baby flew out of her hands as she made a clumsy effort to catch it. The model landed with a loud thud at her feet.
Shit!
Embarrassment engulfed her as she lifted her chin and met a wide-eyed expression. “Sorry, Dr. Jones.”

The doctor came over, picked up the model and placed it
safely back into the box. “Good thing he’s not real.” His green gaze twinkled with humor, which eased some of her mortification.

“There’s probably a good reason why
I don’t have kids,” she quipped, but his expression went blank. She inwardly cringed.

“Why don’t you have a seat on the table and we’ll go over the test results.”

The normally jubilant doctor looked serious. Her chest tightened and she had an immediate case of heartburn. She took a seat on the cold table and clutched her hands in her lap.

“We got the results of your blood work and
, before I physically exam you, I’d like to ask a couple of questions. You haven’t been to see me in years, which is usually a good sign that you’re healthy. We had you fill out the patient information sheet to catch up on any changes. However, you left several areas incomplete, like, when was your last menstrual period?”

She blinked as she searched her mind. “I can’t remember.” In between shows, she’d lost count.
“I think—wow, it’s been a while.”

He nodded
and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You also left your sexual history blank.” His curious gaze met hers.

Feeling heat rise up her neck and settle in her cheeks, she cleared her throat. She typically wasn’t uncomfortable in talking to her doctor about personal things, but the night of passionate lovemaking she’d shared with Dante was her own little secret.
“Is that necessary? All I did was faint.”

“I understand it can be difficult to
discuss things, but it’s vital information.” He closed the file.

“
I haven’t had sex in—” Her usual answer of “a long time” no longer held truth. “Well, I did several months ago.” Her mind started racing. Did she catch something down below? Her eyes dropped to her lap. “We used a condom every time.”

“Can you be
more specific in the timeframe?” He opened her chart again.

“Eight weeks, two days and,
uhmm,” she glanced up at the clock, “two hours. You’re starting to scare me, doc.” Heat spread through her limbs as a sour taste erupted into her mouth. She swallowed back vomit. “Do I have a disease? Am I ill? Do I have something terminal?” She had been feeling more tired than usual.