Bright Eyes (8 page)

Zeke’s eyebrows lifted. Before he could think of a response to that revelation, Rosie was out the door. She paused on the porch to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The door closed, and Zeke sat there in the quiet kitchen, wondering if he’d imagined the visit. Then he opened his hand and stared at the coins resting on his palm. They were sweaty from Rosie’s fist. He smiled and put them on the table. A Barbie dune buggy? He wasn’t familiar with Barbie accoutrements but wished he were. He’d head for the nearest department store and buy Rosie’s doll some wheels.

Chapter Four

S
hortly after Rosie’s departure, Zeke returned to town and visited the ranch-supply store that he’d purchased on contract from his father. After getting updated by the night manager and making the rounds to chat with his employees, he stocked shelves until closing time at eight. When everyone had left, he spent a couple of hours in his office doing that day’s books, juggling work schedules to cover his shifts for the next three weeks, and making out orders for Monday.

He was yawning by the time he set the security alarm and left the building. En route to his truck across the dark, empty parking lot, he thought of Rosie Patterson and the deal he’d struck with her. He should at least inform her mother of that conversation. He also owed the lady an apology. He cringed when he remembered saying that she mollycoddled her son. Like he was an expert on kids? He’d made some rash assumptions, bottom line. Chad had some problems, no question, but that didn’t mean Natalie had caused them.

Zeke checked his watch. It wasn’t yet eleven. The Blue Parrot was only a few blocks away. He wasn’t dressed for a supper club, but what he had to say would take only a couple of minutes. Why not drop in and get it over with? He might even order a drink. The crow might go down easier with a shot of bourbon.

A few minutes later, Zeke stepped inside the Blue Parrot. He expected a run-of-the-mill gin joint, fancied up with a grill and limited menu. Instead, it was so nice that he almost pulled a U-turn. Jeans and a work shirt definitely weren’t appropriate. The few customers at the white-draped tables were dressed to the nines, men in suits, ladies in cocktail dresses, and there wasn’t a bar in sight. Dark blue wallpaper and elegant chandeliers complemented the brass wall hangings. Candles adorned each white-draped table, the blue tapers ensconced in holders that gleamed like burnished gold.
Tasteful
. He felt like a weevil in a flour sack.

Then he saw Natalie, and he forgot to feel self-conscious. She was Rosie, but all grown up, standing on a raised platform in a sequined red dress that glinted like a banked flame in the dimly lighted room. Above her, an open-faced sound-system platform supported amps, speakers, spiral lights, and flush spotlights, strategically aimed to spill golden illumination over her as she performed.
Reba, take a backseat.
The sounds coming from her throat were pure honey. The guitar fit over her hip as though it had been carved for her, and she moved with graceful confidence as she belted out a country ballad about a determined woman who never gave up on her man.

Zeke had never seen anyone more beautiful—or more talented. No longer even aware of where he was, he sank onto a chair at a back table. Between numbers, Natalie laughed and chatted with her patrons as if they were old friends, as comfortable onstage as Zeke might have been at a family gathering. Every time she moved, the dress glimmered, shooting ruby daggers. Her eyes intensified the effect, large orbs of shimmering brightness in the delicate oval of her face. With her ample curves and graceful carriage, she made a man ache.

“Before my break, I’d like to sing a special song,” she murmured into the mike. Then she laughed and smiled flirtatiously at a gentleman to her left. “It’s a little sappy. I wrote it many moons ago when I still believed in happy endings.”

Thanks to Rosie and Chad, Zeke already had a fair idea of what had disillusioned her. He settled back to listen. She bent her head, sending her cloud of black curls forward to cover her face. The sudden silence was electrical, and Zeke tensed with anticipation. With the first emission of sound, she snapped erect, revealing a countenance to break men’s hearts. From that second on, the lady was pure dynamite, the explosion of voice and guitar so mesmerizing and perfect that no one in the audience even moved. The piano was a barely noticed and unnecessary accompaniment.

“Why do I love you?” she sang. “Why do I care?” She lifted her gaze above the crowd, singing from her heart, seemingly oblivious to those who listened. “When everything could be so perfect, why, in the dark of night, is my pillow wet with tears? We had it all, but you threw it away.”

A waitress approached Zeke’s table. He waved away the list of available beverages. “Jack and Coke, please.”

“Single or double?”

He had to drive home. “Single.”

Zeke just wanted the waitress to go away so he could hear Natalie’s song. When he could finally refocus on the words—and the woman singing them—the number was nearly over. When Natalie raised her arm on the last note, he felt almost bereft. His heart sank a little when she bent her head and lowered her right hand to her side. The room went absolutely silent again.

She stood there for a full second, body motionless, head still bent. No one applauded until she looked up. It was if she had to release them from her spell before they could think or even move.

Instead of curtsying and nodding to acknowledge the applause, she laid the guitar aside and leaned over her piano player’s shoulder. Together, they went through some sheet music. Then she patted his arm and left the stage, a brilliant flame that drew the gaze of every man in the room. As she headed for a door to the right of the platform, she hesitated midstep and looked directly at Zeke. Her shoulders sank slightly. The pianist began playing something bluesy as she wove her way through the tables.

Zeke stood and pushed back a chair for her.

“Hello, Mr. Coulter,” she said softly. “Small world, or has my son vandalized your property again?”

“What the hell are you doing in Crystal Falls?” Zeke asked. “You should be taking Nashville by storm.”

The question popped out of his mouth of its own volition. She was a phenomenon with a voice that went beyond fabulous and a stage presence to go with it. She should be captivating thousands, not entertaining a few country bumpkins in a ranching community.

She sank wearily onto the chair. “Flattery, Mr. Coulter?”

“Forget flattery. With a voice like that, you could write your own ticket.”

“My days of chasing rainbows are over, I’m afraid.”

He didn’t miss the note of resignation in her voice. No bitterness, only flat acceptance. That struck him as being so sad. If only she had made different choices earlier in life, the world could be her oyster. Instead she struggled to keep her daughter in decent shoes.

She rubbed the nape of her neck and flexed her shoulders. “That guitar weighs a ton toward the end of a shift.”

Zeke had a feeling that the guitar was the least of her burdens.

“So what brings you to the Blue Parrot? You don’t strike me as the supper-club type.”

The waitress returned just then. Zeke accepted his drink and said, “Bring the lady her usual, please, and put it on my tab.”

“Water,” Natalie said with a flippant smile that Zeke suspected had been practiced to hold admirers at bay. “Charge the gentleman five bucks. He’s loaded.”

Zeke sat back to regard her. He had stepped on her toes, and she was letting him know right up front that she wouldn’t easily forgive him. He shot from the hip himself and admired that about her.

She directed her attention to the table, centering the candle, smoothing the cloth. “I talked with Chad this evening. He seems to like you.” She looked back up, her gaze sharper this time. “I have no clue as to why, but that’s my thing. It seems that you were right, and I was wrong. This experience is good for him. Working with you today bolstered his confidence. He needs that right now.”

His fingers skimming beads of condensation, Zeke turned his glass. “I came here to apologize. Don’t give me an out. I’m notorious for never saying I’m sorry.”

“I believe you.”

He gave a startled laugh. “I have that coming, I guess.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“I apologize for making rash assumptions and acting like an ass.”

Her expression guarded, she continued to study him. “May I ask what brought this about?”

“Your daughter paid me a visit tonight.”

Her expression went from guarded to surprised. “Rosie?”

“Do you have two daughters?”

“No, thank heavens. One’s a handful. Why was she at your place?”

“She came to negotiate.” Zeke grinned, remembering. “I am now in possession of her life’s savings, earmarked for a Barbie dune buggy.”

“Oh
no.”

“Oh yes, and she drives one hell of a bargain. I didn’t know whether to shit or go blind.” Zeke winced and glanced around, hoping no one else had heard him. “Pardon my French.”

“Don’t blame the French. My mother’s maiden name is Devereaux.”

No wonder she had gorgeous legs. French women were famous for them. “My Irish, then.”

Her eyes started to twinkle, warming him as they had yesterday afternoon. “Ah. That explains the stubborn streak.”

Zeke chuckled. “It’s the Scots who are stubborn.”

“With the Irish running a close second.”

He conceded the point with a shrug. “I wasn’t quite stubborn enough to come out on top with your daughter.”

“Few people do. My Rosie is indomitable and too cute for her own good.”

“True. After she asked why I’m mean and obnoxious, she informed me that Gramps and the cows have nefarious plans for my cabbages. Being a smart man who has no desire whatsoever to get his ass kicked by a geriatric, I quickly agreed to her terms.”

Natalie’s lovely and very kissable mouth twitched. “Which are?”

“You and Rosie are welcome to help Chad work off the debt. I don’t want to be responsible for his missing camp and getting brain rot from Valerie’s rap.”

She burst out laughing. The sound wasn’t quite as magical as her voice in song, but close. “My daughter. She repeats everything she hears.”

“And quite eloquently, I might add.”

“I’m sorry she bugged you. Chad’s right, I guess. She can be a pest.”

“I’m glad she came. Trust a child. I
was
being mean and obnoxious. I began to realize that this afternoon when I got to know your son a little better.”

“So you’re coming to like Chad as much as he’s coming to like you?”

Zeke nodded. “He’s a troubled boy, but not a bad one. I was wrong to take such a hard line, threatening to bring the law into it.” He took a sip of his drink to compose his thoughts. “I also want to apologize for suggesting that you mollycoddle him. Before he left today, I wanted to make things better for him myself.” He picked up a complimentary book of matches, studied the Blue Parrot logo, and then said, “I can see his heart in his eyes, and it’s a broken one. What the hell’s going on with his dad?”

Her eyes went bright with what he suspected were tears. “Nothing.” The smile that had touched her mouth a moment ago vanished. “When it comes to being a father, Robert
isn’t
. I can’t think of another way to say it.”

“I gathered as much.”

She fiddled with the midnight-blue cloth napkin in front of her. “I sound like a bitter ex-wife. It’s so dead boring to be typical, but I can’t help myself.”

“You’re concerned about your son. There’s no crime in that.”

Her brow pleated in a thoughtful frown. “I don’t mean to paint a black picture of Robert. He’s just—well, being Robert. His parents never paid any attention to him, and that’s all he knows.”

“Don’t make excuses for the bastard.”

She laughed softly, then puffed air at her bangs, reminding him strongly of Rosie. “There
is
no excusing Robert. I only meant that it isn’t really his fault. He’s being as good a father to Chad as his father was to him. All too often, we become our parents.”

Zeke guessed there was a lot of truth in that. He’d been told countless times that he was a Xerox copy of his dad. “Your son doesn’t think he’s good at anything. When he actually does something without screwing up, he’s amazed.”

“Robert is a little critical.”

“A little?”

“It’s complicated.” For a moment, Zeke thought she would leave it at that. “I think he feels inadequate, actually. He hides it very well. If you met him, you’d never for a second believe that he has self-esteem issues. Robert is one of those people who are smarter than everyone else and better at everything. Sports, academics, business, you name it. Poor Chad never quite measures up.”

Zeke doubted that Chad had been Robert’s only victim. He had known men like that, and in his experience, they took shots at everyone around them.

He felt himself becoming lost in Natalie Patterson’s swimming brown eyes and experienced something akin to fear. The lady packed a wallop. Just like her daughter, she tugged at his heartstrings in a way he didn’t understand. He disliked the feeling, and he suddenly just wanted to get out of there.

He raised one hip to fish for his money clip, then tossed a twenty onto the table. It was more than enough to cover his drink and the five-dollar glass of water. He hoped Natalie would pay his tab and keep the rest. Judging by her daughter’s clothing, she needed the money a lot more than he did.

“I’ve said what I came to say.”
Brilliant, Zeke.
“I, um—” His mind went blank. “I have to go.”

She pushed erect before he could shove back in his chair. “Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Coulter. I appreciate the apology and your change of heart. Chad needs a little leniency right now. Camp is important this year.”

He stood, nudged the chair back under the table with the toe of his boot, and hooked his thumbs over his belt.

“Now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I agree with you. He should go. If the damages aren’t worked off in time, I’ll give him a week off and let him work after school.”

She picked up the twenty, sidled around the table, and moved close to tuck the bill into his shirt pocket. The musky scent of her perfume filled his senses. The warmth of her body, moving a scant inch from his, seared him like a brand. “The drink is on the house.”

Recalling the duct tape on Rosie’s sandals, Zeke wished she would take the money. Instead he stood there like a dumb cluck and watched her walk away. Or, to be more precise, he watched the sway of her hips. Natalie Patterson was not a thin woman. Her body was soft and well rounded in all the right places.