Heartbreak, Tennessee (3 page)

She’d always loved
that smell, and it was there—however faintly—in the cab of the
truck. She inhaled deeply without thinking, resisting the urge to close her
eyes and let the sensation transport her back through the years.

She held his gaze,
though. She would not be the first to look away. She’d acquired enough pride
for that, at least.

“Amber.”

She waited, her
breathing suspended, listening to the silence. Before he spoke again, Mac
reached out and tentatively touched her hand. A single touch, a caress so brief
she didn’t have time to pull away, that nevertheless sent a tremor down her arm
to all the nerves in her body. Oh, God, how she responded to him. Nervously her
fingers went to the thin circle of gold suspended on a delicate gold chain
beneath her blouse, a habit of years.

“What the hell
happened?”

There was an edge to
his voice, and the moment was gone. Amber sighed and turned away, shifting her
body so she was facing forward, and looked through the windshield. Ahead she
saw they had put a stoplight in at the corner of Maple and Washington streets.

“You know what
happened. It came down to a matter of faith, and in the end I guess you just
didn’t have enough of it. But frankly, Mac, it’s an old story. Hardly worth
dredging up now.”

“I just...everything
happened so fast. I never thought you’d actually leave. You never even said
good-bye.”

“You didn’t get my
letter?”

“I got the damn
letter.” The fury in Mac’s voice was raw, an old wound opened anew. “‘Don’t
call, don’t write.’ As if I could have—you never even let me know where
you ended up.”

“I asked you to go
with me,” Amber reminded him in a voice choked with suppressed anger. She knew
she should end this conversation, but she couldn’t help herself. He’d been the
one to let her down, to turn away when she needed him—didn’t he remember
that?

Mac said nothing, the
corners of his mouth tugging down, sparks flashing in his eyes.

Amber shook her head
and took a deep breath. “As I said, this is all an old story. And it doesn’t
seem to be serving any purpose to bring it all up again.”

“I don’t know,” Mac
muttered, his tone suddenly flat. “You talk like you have everything all
resolved and filed away. I’m not sure how you manage it, Amber—pretending
none of it ever happened. I guess I’ve always felt I deserved an explanation.”

“
You
deserve—”

Mac held up a hand,
silencing her. “Forget I said that. Let’s not make this about who owes who, all
right? We were both hurt. We both made bad decisions. Let’s not blame each
other—can’t we get past that?”

“I’m—I don’t
intend to get past anything. There’s nothing to get past, nothing to talk
about. I don’t have time for anything but what I came here to do.”

Mac’s expression
slowly settled, cooled. “Whatever you say. If you change your mind...I imagine
you could still figure out the way to the shop.”

His sarcasm stung. She’d
only done what she always did when emotions threatened to overwhelm her,
protecting herself with a few carefully chosen words. She hadn’t meant to lash
out...but maybe she’d been too harsh. Misgiving clouded her thoughts. He was so
close, so familiar.

He’d invited her to go
see him. In broad daylight, at his job. What could possibly go wrong in that
setting? Where would be the harm in just talking?

But she knew the
answer to that question. Knew better than to chance even the most innocuous
interaction with Mac. There wasn’t room for idle chat, there would be no
pleasant reunion for them. She had pledged him everything, and he’d thrown it
away the first time their love was truly tested.

On the other hand,
she
was the one who had run.

“I have so much to do
for the few days we’ll be in town,” she amended, trying to keep her voice even.
“I—perhaps I could find a few minutes somewhere.”

It wasn’t exactly a
lie—Sheryn was bound to keep her plenty busy if Amber allowed her to—but
it wasn’t a matter of life-or-death obligations, either. On the rare occasions
that Sheryn managed some down time, she was generous with letting Amber take
time off as well. All she had to do was ask.

“You never did say,”
Mac said, ignoring her remark. “What exactly is your business in Heartbreak? Seeing
as we’re nearly three hundred miles from Nashville, you obviously took some
trouble to get here. But I don’t recall any concerts being scheduled over at
the high school gymnasium. Or even over in Kingsport, for that matter.”

“Why would we need a
reason?” Amber shrugged, though she knew it was pointless to evade Mac’s
inquiries. He had always been able to read her like a book. “Sheryn had to
cancel some dates. She’s having a little medical trouble—nothing serious.”

Amber pressed her lips
together. Sheryn would kill her if she ever found out Amber was discussing her
health. The doctor had said Sheryn could return to touring in two weeks if she
promised to spend the time at home, resting her voice. He’d been very clear on
that point, and driving Sheryn home from the clinic, Amber had pleaded with her
to heed his advice.

Sheryn wasn’t a woman
who liked to be told what to do, however. The only thing she hated more was
being stuck in one place. The official line was that she was suffering from a
touch of the flu, and Amber was not at liberty to say anything to the contrary.

Certainly not to a man
who was, for all intents and purposes, now a stranger to her.

“And...of all the
possibilities, she picked Heartbreak to recuperate?”

Mac’s voice was tinged
with sarcasm. Amber just nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“You’re an extremely
poor liar, Amber DeWitt,” Mac said softly. “Come on. Out with it.”

She glanced up then,
once—but once was enough. She saw her own emotions mirrored back in his
eyes. Uncertainty and old anger, yes, but there was something else, a buried
attraction so powerful that it was sparked by a chance encounter, a single
touch.

And once sparked, it
was pointless to try to hide. But she would resist it, and she would succeed. She
would not allow Mac to re-enter her life, not for anything more than this one
conversation. But there was no way on earth she could evade his questions,
either.

“Sheryn wants to build
a theme park,” she said, sighing with resignation. “Here, in Heartbreak. I
know, I know. It’s a crazy idea.”

“What—like
Dollywood?”

Amber closed her eyes
and grimaced. Those had been the first words out of
her
mouth, too, and she’d immediately regretted them. Sheryn, as
much genuine affection as she had for her fellow country stars, was fiercely
competitive and had retorted at once that
her
park would put Dolly Parton’s park to shame. Bigger, better, more—those
were the kinds of words Sheryn was comfortable using. And to hell with details.
Bothersome little matters like finding land, negotiating deals—in Sheryn’s
opinion, that’s what bean counters and lawyers were for.

“Sheryn has something
a little different in mind,” Amber said. “She just wanted to come see the town,
get ideas. It’s all very preliminary. She wanted to take advantage of the time
off to brainstorm before she brings anyone else in on the deal. I’m just taking
her around, showing her the sights, since Gray—her husband—he
couldn’t get away. I mean, he has to manage things at home. But, I guess she
felt like she could recuperate here just as easy as home in Nashville.” Amber
realized she was talking too much, and pressed her lips together fiercely.

“And you leapt at the
chance to return? Yeah, right. Come on, Amber. If you had wanted to come back,
you would have done it a long time ago.”

There was no easy
answer for that one. Amber hesitated before replying. The truth was, she
had
tried to avoid coming back to
Heartbreak. Tried like hell. But none of her excuses carried any weight with
Sheryn, who was looking forward to the trip with girlish glee, as though it
were an extended slumber party. Without telling Sheryn the truth—and that
was something she wasn’t prepared to tell
anybody
—there
was just no way to get out of the trip.

Besides, maybe it was
time. Time to return, see it—the town, the people, and yes, Mac—and
then put it all in the past once and for all.

“Like I said,” she
said, her voice steely, “it’s business, pure and simple. When Sheryn does well,
I do well. The happier I make her, the better the bottom line.”

Mac shrugged. “Fine. We’ll
play it your way. You forget how well I once knew you, and for all the changing
you’ve done on the outside, I doubt that you’re all that different on the
inside.”

“You’re wrong,” Amber
said, but a quake in her voice betrayed her. Mac lifted an eyebrow; it hadn’t
escaped him.

“I have to tell you,
though, I think you are in for a battle.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s going
to be those who think this theme park idea is great. They’re the folks who can’t
be bothered to earn an honest living now, but I suppose they’ll be opening up
tacky T-shirt stands and liquor stores and all night Quick Marts—”

“That’s not fair.”

“Really? What about
the folks who like Heartbreak just fine the way it is? A number of us have put
in a lot more years here than you ever did.”

Amber felt fury rise
in her gut.

“Good night, Mac.” Her
hand was on the handle of the door, but she half expected him to stop her.

Wanted him to stop
her.

“Wait,” he said. “I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t have come at you like that. It was a shock, I guess, seeing
you tonight. You might have called, given me a chance to steel myself.”

“I...” Amber shrugged.
“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he
said. “Sorry’s not your strong suit. Nor mine, if I recall.”

Amber’s skin burned. So
he was still angry. Well, maybe he had a right to be. But it didn’t matter; the
statute of limitations on her exit from his life had run out long ago.

He’d be surprised to
know the truth. How often she’d picked up the phone, aching to call and tell
him everything. Every year, as she sent out Christmas cards to dozens of
friends and business acquaintances, she thought of him. Once or twice, she even
wrote his name on the creamy stationery before tearing up the envelope.

And every night when
she watched the news, she always checked the weather map to see what was
happening in Heartbreak, and pictured him—fishing on sunny days, building
fires when it snowed.

What if he knew that
even now she was clutching the last gift he ever gave her through the thin silk
of her blouse?

“Look, let’s keep
things civil,” he said. “We’ll play it your way. I won’t expect anything from
you. But since you’re here, why don’t you see if you can fit a half hour in to
come see the shop.” He suddenly looked less certain of himself, his glance
flickering away from her and his mouth turning down a little at the corners. “I’d
like to have a chance to show you around.”

“I’ll see if I can get
away,” Amber said. Then she slipped out of the truck and closed the door, and
walked back towards the hotel, resisting the urge to look back.

CHAPTER TWO

Amber rolled over on
her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head, hoping that the knock at the
door had only been part of a dream. When the sound continued, she groaned, then
slowly sat up and looked at her watch, which she’d tossed on the bedside table.

Eight-thirty. Two
hours later than she normally slept.

“All right, all right,”
she grumbled. “Hold your horses.”

She didn’t even bother
pushing her hair out of her face to open the door. Of course it had to be
Sheryn. The woman thought nothing of calling Amber at any hour of the day, with
an idea or thought that just couldn’t wait until business hours, or a joke she’d
heard from one of the road crew, or an invitation to go out and join her in
satisfying one of the food cravings that struck her late at night.

At 48 (of course she
only admitted to being 39), Sheryn had an unbelievable amount of energy and
vitality, even though the most exercise she ever got was struggling into her
famous tight outfits. Of course, she needed that kind of energy to make it
through the grueling concert tours she’d gone on over the last decade. In fact,
Amber was relieved that circumstances had forced Sheryn to relax a bit; after
this fool’s errand in Heartbreak, Sheryn would still have time to enjoy the
pool and tennis courts at the enormous home she and her husband and manager,
Gray Sawyer, had built in Nashville.

Of course, relaxing
was what spawned these crazy ideas of Sheryn’s. Too much time on her hands was
indeed a dangerous thing, Amber frequently joked with Gray. It gave her time to
think, and thinking led to comparing herself with other musicians, especially
other stars. Sheryn simply could not abide to be anywhere but on top of the
world.