The Girl He Left Behind (3 page)

What should I do?

Would Adam go without her? Eve couldn't bear to even think that way. He'd said he loved her. Surely he wouldn't leave her. Not after... She abruptly broke off the thought. Her heartbeat quickened just thinking about what she'd let happen last week. Her parents would die if they knew. They would never, not in a million years, believe Eve could do the things she had. Especially not with a boy like Adam Crenshaw. They wouldn't even be able to believe she'd been
seeing
him,
lying
to them. They thought she was perfect. But Eve hadn't been able to help herself. She'd fallen hopelessly in love with Adam from the moment he first spoke to her.

He loves me, too. He won't go without me.

But what if he does? No. That wouldn't happen. Because she couldn't bear it if he left her.

But he swore he was going.
If she
did
go—just
if
—her parents would get over it, wouldn't they? They wouldn't hate her forever. It wouldn't be the end of the world, would it?

Just then, breaking into her tormented thoughts, Eve's mother called, “Eve, honey, come help me set the table for supper.” Her parents always called their evening meal supper instead of dinner.

“Okay, Mom, coming,” Eve called back.
I don't have to decide now. I can wait till after supper when Dad falls asleep in the recliner and Mom is lost in her book.
If she
did
decide to go, it would be easy to sneak her packed bag out then, to pop her head into the living room and say she was going to Walmart to look at some stuff for her college dorm room.

All through supper Eve was on pins and needles, as her mom always said. She could hardly eat because she was now thinking she was going to go. She just couldn't take the chance that Adam would go without her. She couldn't. She loved him too much. She'd
given
herself to him. How could she let him leave her?

On and on her thoughts went until she'd finally persuaded herself that her parents would get over her leaving, especially after Adam became successful, and he and Eve were married, and everything in their life was wonderful—just the way it was supposed to be. Even their names proved they were meant to be together. Adam and Eve. It was destiny.

Finally supper was almost over. Eve pushed her chair back. “I'll wash the dishes tonight, Mom.”

“Wait, honey,” her mother said, looking at Eve's dad.

Eve turned to her father, who was smiling at her.

“We have something for you, honey,” her mom said. “We wanted you to have it tonight so you could wear it tomorrow.” She got up and opened a cabinet drawer, the one she called her junk drawer because she tossed in everything that didn't have its own place. Taking out a small box wrapped in gold paper with a gold ribbon, her mother sang softly, “Sunday's child is bonny and blithe and good and gay,” as she handed the package to Eve. It was the verse she'd sung to Eve her entire life, because Eve was their miracle child, the child a forty-year-old Anna had despaired of ever having, the wondrous child born on the Sabbath day, a true gift from God.

“Happy graduation, sweetheart,” her dad said.

Eve's heart constricted as she slowly removed the paper and opened the box. Inside, nestled in cotton, was a stunning gold heart pendant studded with rubies. “Oh,” she said, nearly speechless. “It—it's so beautiful.”

“We're so proud of you,” her mom said. “And I know it's not your birthstone, but rubies represent love and mean good fortune for the person who wears them. You have an amazing future ahead of you.” Her mother's smile said everything she was feeling as she gazed at Eve.

“You'll be the first Cermak to go to college,” her dad said. His voice trembled with emotion.

“And to think you won such a wonderful scholarship,” her mother said. She reached over and squeezed Eve's hand.

“You're the best daughter anyone could ever have,” her dad said. “Never given us one moment's worry.”

“And we know you'll keep on making us proud,” her mother added tremulously.

Eve's heart felt like a brick in her chest. How could she leave them without a word? How could she disappear on the eve of her high school graduation, abandon them and all they'd done for her and go off with a boy they knew absolutely nothing about, one they didn't even know she was seeing? The shock, the scandal, the disappointment, the unbearable pain would kill them.

Later, in her room, when the clock read 8:00 p.m. and then eight ten and finally eight fifteen and Eve knew the bus was leaving Crandall Lake, she told herself Adam had changed his mind. That he would call her. That the phone would ring any second, and she would snatch it up and call out to her parents that it was for her, and he would say he just couldn't do it. He couldn't leave without her.

Wouldn't he?

* * *

Adam spent most of his time at the hospital for the remainder of the week. And late Saturday afternoon, eight days after his mother's heart attack, when her doctor said she could probably move over to the rehab center on Monday, Adam took a relieved breath and grinned at her. “So, Ma, you're going to live.”

“We Crenshaws are tough,” his mother said softly.

Adam nodded. They
were
tough. Well, hell, they'd had to be. His father, Frank, had been a gambler and a drunk, and he'd abandoned his family when Adam was six, then been killed in a freak amusement park accident a year later. The former Lucy Costa, his unlucky wife, had waited tables by day and cleaned an office building by night to support herself and her three boys. And even then, it was a struggle.

“Heart problems run in my family, though,” Lucy added.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So you'd better take care of yourself or you'll find yourself in the same boat one of these days.”

Adam nodded again. He'd heard this same lecture many times before. In fact, Lucy had gotten on the “good health, take care of yourself” boat every time she'd visited him over recent years.

“I do take care of myself, Ma.”

“Really? Do you exercise every day? Do you eat right? I never see you eat anything except pizza.”

“I eat all kinds of healthy stuff,” Adam protested. “And I work out all the time.” But he was mentally crossing his fingers, because he'd been slacking off lately. On both counts.

A few minutes later, Austin, followed by Aaron, entered the room, and Adam, after greeting his brothers and giving his mother a goodbye kiss, told them he was leaving for the day. “I promised Sally I'd drop into the homeless shelter tonight, maybe play some music for the guys there.” Sally was a favorite nurse of his mother's and they'd struck up a friendship.

“Need me to come along?” Aaron asked. In addition to all the social media and publicity stuff Aaron did for Adam, he was also Adam's right-hand man and main gofer, both at home and on the road. Adam had initially put him to work because Aaron needed something to keep him on the straight and narrow, but in the past few years Aaron had made himself invaluable, and Adam depended upon him for just about everything he couldn't do himself.

“Nah. I'll be fine. It's only Crandall Lake.”

Aaron shrugged. “Okay. But give me a buzz if you need me.”

Adam said he would and left. He wasn't worried about needing Aaron. So far the paparazzi had been pretty respectful of his mother's illness and left Adam alone. Except for a few pictures on Instagram and Twitter, they'd found bigger fish to follow. Adam knew all that would change when he returned to his normal life, so he might as well enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.

He was looking forward to talking to and singing for the homeless people in the shelter. Except for a really lucky break at the end of his first month in Nashville, he might have ended up in a shelter himself. Down to his last few dollars—he'd even had to chuck his cell phone because he could no longer afford to pay for it—he'd finally gotten a producer to listen to his demo and give him a chance. That same producer had made a ton of money off him in the intervening years, and they'd remained good friends.

As Adam drove to the shelter, he thought about the songs he'd sing. And afterward, he'd have an early night at the hotel and a good night's sleep. No drama, no groupies, no photographers chasing him.

And absolutely nothing to worry about.

Chapter Three

E
ve couldn't sit still. The kids should've come home tonight, but Bill had called early that morning and asked if he could keep them over the weekend because the Kelly family reunion was taking place in San Antonio and he wanted the twins to be there with him. Eve hadn't wanted to agree, but how could she say no?

That was the biggest problem she had with Bill. He was always so reasonable she could never refuse him when he wanted something. Even if he hadn't been reasonable, she owed him. Not that he ever said so, but the knowledge was always there, unspoken, between them.

I rescued you. You owe me.

She knew that was what he was thinking. And why shouldn't he? She was thinking it, too. He
had
rescued her, and she
did
owe him. Even now, after nearly twelve years, she still felt grateful. In fact, she couldn't imagine what her mother would say if she knew. Even thinking about the problem made Eve's heart beat a little faster.

Her mother would never know. That secret was safe. Bill would certainly never tell anyone—it would be the
last
thing he'd ever want people to know—nor would she. They both had a huge stake in keeping their secret safe.

So she'd said yes to this weekend, even though he could have given her more warning. Surely he'd known about the reunion for weeks now. Why hadn't he told her earlier? She would have insisted on keeping the twins last weekend in exchange.

That's probably exactly why he
didn't
tell you.

Eve knew this wasn't a big deal. It was just that she hated weekends on her own. It would be different if she, too, had remarried and had other children, or at least a partner to go places with her. But she hadn't. And the way things looked, she probably wouldn't. After all, to get married meant you needed to be seeing someone, and she had no prospects on the horizon. Crandall Lake wasn't exactly a dating mecca. And even though, at one time, she'd dreamed about moving to Austin or Houston or somewhere with a bigger newspaper, her dream had turned out to be only a fantasy. Bill's business was here. So here she'd have to stay. She could not take the twins from their father.

Olivia had once suggested Eve might sign up for an online dating service.

“I don't see
you
doing that,” Eve had said.

“I'm not ready” had been Olivia's quiet answer.

Eve had been immediately sorry for her retort. At the time, her cousin had been still mourning her husband's death.

“But it would be good for you, Eve.”

Eve knew Olivia had been right. Eve
should
be proactive if she didn't want to remain single her entire life. She would be thirty in just a couple of months, and even though thirty wasn't exactly old-maid territory, and lots of women today married later in life, mostly those women had interesting and successful careers. That wasn't true of her. She worked for a small daily paper struggling to keep afloat with dwindling subscriptions and fewer advertisers. In fact, she'd been hearing rumors of layoffs.

Eve sighed, remembering that conversation. What was she going to do with herself this weekend? She was already bored and it was only six o'clock Saturday evening. There was nothing good on television, Olivia and Thea were in Dallas for the weekend and no one else that Eve knew was free. Her own mother was probably busy with a bridge tournament or something. Ironically, Anna seemed to have more of a social life than Eve ever had—or would have.

After another half hour of yawning and attempting to knit—she had learned this past year—Eve shoved the knitting back into the tote that housed her supplies and got up. “I'm going to the shelter,” she announced aloud. She'd begun volunteering at Crandall Lake's homeless shelter six months earlier, and she'd found it very satisfying work. She'd even made friends of some of the women there. “Going to the shelter is better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself,” she muttered as she prepared to leave, “or thinking about Adam Crenshaw.”

She hadn't heard otherwise, so she figured he was still in town. Given the level of interest in their town's biggest celebrity, who had surpassed former pro quarterback Dillon Burke's position as its most famous alumnus, she knew she would have heard if Adam had returned to Nashville.

Thirty minutes later, as she approached the shelter, her spirits had already improved. It always did her good to come here, made her count her blessings and remind her that despite her problems she was extremely fortunate. She shouldn't ever complain, even to herself. Life could always be so much worse—and was for many. She and her children—in fact, her entire family, everyone she loved—was healthy and had a roof over their heads. What more could she ask for?

Vowing to do better, she walked into the building and saw that she had arrived too late to help serve dinner, but not too late to help clean up. Donning an apron, she joined the other volunteers and in short order they'd cleared all the dirty plates and cutlery.

“I guess you heard who's coming tonight,” said Julianne, one of the teen volunteers.

Eve frowned. “Um, no. What do you mean?”

Julianne grinned. “Adam Crenshaw! Oh, c'mon. You knew!”

Eve shook her head. Her stupid heart had already started to gallop, just at the sound of his name. “No, I—I didn't. When will he be here?”

“Any minute,” Julianne said. “He's going to
sing
!” Her eyes shone with excitement.

Eve looked around wildly. Any minute! Up to now, she'd managed to avoid going anywhere she thought he might be. Oh, God, she had to get out of here. She knew it would look crazy to leave just ten or fifteen minutes after arriving, but she couldn't stay. So what if the other volunteers gossiped about her? They'd forget about her as soon as Adam started singing. She began to remove her apron, but it was already too late, for the entire room started to buzz with anticipation as Adam walked through the dining room doorway.

Eve could feel herself trembling. Olivia had been right. He
did
look better in person. In fact, he looked gorgeous. She took in the black T-shirt with his band's logo on the front, the tight jeans, the worn biker boots, his shining hair, the dimple that appeared as he smiled at the crowd.

An interviewer had once asked why he never wore cowboy boots or cowboy hats. His answer had been that he'd never been a cowboy and refused to pretend he was. “I'm just a musician,” he'd said, “who, a lot of the time, likes to write and sing country music.”

Adam.
His name felt like a prayer.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. But he hadn't seen her. Thank God, he hadn't seen her. Eve knew she couldn't leave without causing a bit of commotion because there were too many people crowded into the room now. It seemed as if everyone who worked there, plus every person who lived there, had jammed themselves into the room.

She watched as he worked the crowd, shaking hands, signing autographs, allowing people to take pictures of him and selfies with him. He'd come a long way from the insecure boy who covered up his loneliness with fierce privacy and a facade of boredom.

“Hello, y'all,” he said now. “Thanks for inviting me to come visit and sing for you.”

The crowd yelled out their welcome.

Eve managed to maneuver herself to the back of the room while Adam tuned his guitar from the piano near the doors leading to the kitchen. A few minutes later, among cheers of approval, he launched into his signature hit—the first of his records to go platinum—“Impossible to Forget.”

“I told myself I didn't care our love was in the past.

I told myself our promises were never meant to last.

But every day, in every way,

I fought heartache and regret,

The truth was there for all to see,

You were impossible to forget.”

As he sang, he seemed to be looking straight at her. Eve wanted to look away, but no matter how she tried, she couldn't. She wondered what he was thinking as he sang. She had always wondered if he'd written the song about her. As their eyes locked, she struggled to contain her emotions. When she couldn't, when tears filled her eyes, she knew she had to get out of there. And fast. So as the song finished, she used the boisterous crowd, many of whom jumped to their feet to applaud and call out other song titles they wanted Adam to sing, to hide her exit.

She headed straight for the back door, but when she got there, safely out of sight of the people in the dining room, she discovered it was locked for the night. She was going to have to go out the front. She would have to pass by Adam.

He had begun another song. Best to go now, while he was busy singing. Maybe she could make her escape without too much disturbance. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the dining room.

* * *

About halfway through “Impossible to Forget” Adam realized the attractive blonde he was singing to—he always picked one person in the crowd with whom to have eye contact—was Eve. He hadn't realized it at first because, after all, it had been twelve years since he'd seen her. At seventeen going on eighteen, she'd been wide-eyed, pretty and sweet looking, a girl who wore hardly any makeup and her fair hair in a ponytail. Now, at nearly thirty, she was a beautiful woman, classy and elegant.

Somehow, though, she'd disappeared during the hubbub after he'd finished “Impossible to Forget” and he'd been surprised—and a little disturbed—by how disappointed he was. As he began his second song, “Trouble is My Middle Name,” he told himself to forget her. She'd obviously not wanted to see him.
And you didn't want to see her, either, remember?

Then halfway through the song, he spied her again. This time she was coming from somewhere off to his left and it was clear she intended to leave because she was heading straight for the door. He made an instant decision not to let that happen. He quickly ended the song after the first chorus and before the notes from the final chord had died away, spoke into the mic, saying, “Eve! Eve Cermak!”

She stopped in midflight and slowly turned as a hush fell over the room. She stared at him.

He grinned. “I thought that was you.” He could see she knew she was trapped. Whether she wanted to talk to him or not, now she would have to.

“Hello, Adam,” she finally said. “I—I was trying to sneak out without disturbing anyone.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

By now some of the bystanders had begun to murmur, and Adam knew tongues would soon be wagging. “Sorry, y'all,” he said, “but Eve and I are old friends from our high school days, and I didn't want her to leave without saying hello to her.” He smiled at Eve again. “You don't really have to go, do you? Why don't you stay awhile and talk to me when I'm done here?”

He could see the conflict in her eyes. He knew she wanted to bolt. He also knew she probably wouldn't, because if she did, tongues really
would
wag. After all, this was a small town. And he was the small-town hero, at least for today.

“I—I guess I could stay awhile,” she said faintly.

Someone moved over on one of the benches to offer her a seat.

Satisfied, Adam grinned, thanked everyone for their patience and began his third song, this time choosing “My Stars.”

And all the while he was singing, he kept his eyes on Eve. And to her credit, she didn't once look away.

* * *

Eve knew she was trapped. She couldn't leave now, not until Adam was finished, because if she did, everyone would see her. And they'd wonder, especially after he'd singled her out, why she was leaving. After all, every one of them would probably have given their firstborn to spend time with him, to be able to say they knew Adam Crenshaw. God, even Steve Winthrop, the director of the shelter, and who had been asking her out for months and whom she'd been attempting to let down easy because even though he was a nice guy, he was almost twenty years older than her, and she was not attracted to him, had seen and heard everything Adam had said to her. And Steve was giving her an odd look.

And then there was Alice Fogarty, the nutritionist who volunteered in the shelter's kitchen, and who was a notorious gossip and neighbor of Eve's mother. Alice was standing not two feet away, staring at her, avid curiosity on her face. She'd seen and heard the entire exchange, too. Eve could just imagine what that busybody would have to say about all of this tomorrow, especially what she'd gleefully report to Eve's mother.

Oh, God.

If Eve's mother ever found out the truth—the fallout, the consequences, didn't bear thinking about.

Oh, yes, Eve was definitely trapped. She would have to stand here and smile and act as if she was enjoying the entertainment until the very end. And then she would have to talk to Adam just as if he were merely an old classmate of hers. Could she do it? Whether she could or she couldn't, she would have to. She had no choice.

So she stood there.

And she smiled.

And she pretended to be enjoying herself.

And all the while, inside, she was quaking.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was—in reality—only about thirty more minutes, Adam said he would be happy to take a few questions, and let people take more pictures if they wanted to, but then he needed to go.

Hands immediately flew up. Adam chuckled and called on a skinny young man sitting near the front of the room.

“Did you always know you wanted to be in the music business?” the young man asked.

Adam nodded. “Yep. From the moment I held my first guitar when I was twelve years old.”

Eve remembered how he'd once told her that guitar had changed his life. How he'd found a crumpled-up, dirty twenty-dollar bill near the sewer at the end of his street and how he'd hidden it and added to it doing every odd job he could find until he had enough money to buy the guitar from a local pawnshop. How he'd even taken it to bed with him because he was afraid one of his brothers would mess with it, maybe even break it, if he didn't.