Heartstrings (12 page)

“Why?”

“You know why. Abby, I have no intention of telling her I’m her father, but you can’t keep this secret forever. The day she turns eighteen she’ll receive two letters informing her she’s my daughter. Don’t you think she’ll be angry that you refused to let her get to know me?”

He was right. Emily would hate her for the deception. But how could she hurt her family by revealing the truth? Mike asked her not to say anything, and she owed him that much after all he’d given up to marry her–to become her daughter’s father. He didn’t know about this development. Telling him wouldn’t be easy.

She had to eat something. The room spun around her. She sprinkled Tabasco sauce over the wings and nibbled on one of them.

Seth lifted his beer to his lips and winced. “How can you eat those things with hot sauce all over them? If I remember Jimmy’s wings, they’re already hot enough to peel the paint off the walls of hell.”

She delicately licked her fingers. “I’m half Apache. My mother used to eat jalapeno pepper jelly every day on toast. I like hot things. It’s in my blood.”

Seth drank his beer as she ate the spicy chicken. “I’ll remember that,” he said in a voice that did funny things to her already uneasy stomach. He stood and leaned over her. Next to her ear he whispered, “Don’t let the Tabasco warm you up too much. I’ll be back.”

She trembled as he strode away in tight black jeans making him look like sin on legs. Maybe he was right–she should leave the Tabasco alone. Mixing it with beer was probably not a good idea anyway.

He conferred with the musicians for a few moments, then went outside with Earle and returned with his guitar case. Jenny Lynn informed her she was going home with her Texas Ranger drummer. “God, he’s so psyched about playing for the great Seth Kendall.”

“You seem a little psyched yourself.”

She grinned and hugged Abby. “I’m in for a hell of a ride tonight when we get back to his place. You’ll be okay getting home?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Be careful.”

Jenny Lynn winked and walked toward the stage. She kissed her drummer, and he got onstage.

The crowd cheered and gave Seth a standing ovation as he took his place on the stage. She joined those standing.

Regardless of everything, she loved Seth’s voice and listened to his music all the time, but she hadn’t seen him perform live since he’d left. While they were growing up, they’d sit on the old porch swing at the house or in the gazebo on the Double K, and he’d play his guitar and sing to her.

Her first kiss came after he’d sung an old Alabama song to her in that gazebo. The sparks they shared had scared them both. Considering with their next kiss three years later, she’d ended up pregnant at seventeen, it was probably a good thing. She’d never wanted anything but success for him–until the day she peed on a stick and stared down at a bright pink plus sign.

What would have happened if he’d stayed around? Was he right about the talent competition being his best chance at success? What would have happened if the fear of being alone hadn’t forced her hand and she hadn’t married Mike?

Seth had succeeded. She’d always known he would, and her heart swelled with pride. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as he walked over to the stool before the mic. He belonged up there.

She’d never share her real reason for not going with him that night. Hadn’t he realized America might not have fallen in love with a young cowboy from the Texas Panhandle if they’d known he had a pregnant teenage Indian girlfriend? But she’d never dreamed he wouldn’t write or call. That he’d completely ignore her after he left Texas.

“We don’t love each other. Not like that. It was–it was just sex. You know...you were the only boy I ever kissed. Things just got out of hand. Now, I have to live with...”

“I don’t believe that. I–”

She shook her head, not wanting to hear what he had to say. The pain in his gaze broke her heart. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to give her the strength to tell the biggest lie in her life up to that point. “You go and do what you have to do. We’ll be fine. I have my inheritance. My baby will never want for anything. But I can’t be a part of your life. Seth, I don’t love you.”

Her words came back to haunt her. She stared at him on the stage. What had he been going to say to her? That he loved her? That he wanted to marry her?

Had she broken his heart as badly as she had her own?

He peered at her, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn’t name–no, she wouldn’t name it. When he looked down at his guitar, a soft smile touched his lips. He hid most of his face under the brim of his hat.

The crowd settled as the band took their positions behind him. Seth pushed his trademark black Stetson back on his head and locked his gaze on Abby.

“I’d like to thank every last one of you. I can’t begin to tell you how much y’all mean to me. I wouldn’t be anything without y’all.”

His voice was husky, and he readjusted his guitar strap around his neck. “When I was seventeen, Jimmy Gatlin asked me to sing on this stage. All I had was my mother’s old acoustic guitar. It was enough, I guess, because Jimmy kept telling me to come back.” He paused and bowed his head as the audience erupted with applause and whistles. When he looked up, he smiled and winked at Abby. “So, here I am again with my biggest fan from then in the audience.”

Although the passion of the crowd swept her away, she didn’t miss the play of emotions on his face. She understood what he hadn’t said, that there was as much pain in the memories as there was joy of those early years. John Kendall’s lack of pride in his talent had hurt Seth deeply.

John had come to every single football game in which Seth had played quarterback and every fairground rodeo in which he’d roped calves, but his father had never wanted to hear him sing. As far as she knew, John hadn’t seen his son sing before an audience.

When he strummed the opening to one of his early hit songs, she was as captivated as everyone else in the honky-tonk.

Seth’s soulful voice spoke of love and loss, and she got lost in the words.

He seduced the entire room with his whiskey-smooth voice, and he pulled at the part of her soul that had always belonged to him. He couldn’t be more than a memory, but she sniffed at the burn in her sinuses as she wished Seth Kendall could be more.

Only a Memory
wound down to the mournful accompaniment of the steel guitar, and he captured her gaze over the distance, singing only to her.

He’d written that song about her! Being thrown at full gallop couldn’t have jolted her harder. She gasped and leaned back in her chair.

Still dazed by the revelation, she couldn’t concentrate on the final four songs he performed. How many of his other songs were about her? The thought rattled her. She ordered another beer, and still her throat burned. Her mouth was dry.

Why hadn’t she figured it out sooner?
Only a Memory
was one of her favorite songs.

Probably because it resonated with her about him too.

The set finished, and he thanked the band for their backup. He walked off the stage to another standing ovation, rowdy applause, whistles and catcalls. Seth regained his chair beside her and took a long draw on a glass of water a waitress had brought him.

Mischief glimmered in his green eyes as he grinned. “So you just now figured it out?”

“I never realized that song was about me.”

He sipped his water and watched her. “A few of my songs are about you.”

She didn’t want to consider the possibility she’d inspired any of his songs. Most of his love songs were about lost or unrequited love. What did he really want from her?

She had to get away from him. Had to escape or she’d do something stupid and destroy her family. There was no doubt she wanted him, missed him, was lonely, and she was drunk. An extremely dangerous combination.

“I need to go home.” She wobbled to her feet and took off through the crowd toward the exit.

“Abby?”

She didn’t stop, but rushed out the swinging doors.

At the door of her Silverado, he caught up and took her arm. “You aren’t in any condition to drive. Where’s your friend?”

She shook her head. “She’s going home with–with her boyfriend.” He was right; she was too drunk to drive home. Tears threatened to fall, and she swallowed her pride as she fell into his arms. “Please, take me home.”

Chapter 6

Seth helped Abby into the passenger’s seat of her Silverado and buckled the seat belt. She closed her eyes and swayed to the left. The dim light coming in from the streetlight shimmered in her dark glossy hair as it slid over her face. She pushed it back and blinked her eyes open.

“You gonna be okay?” He couldn’t resist smoothing the silky mane away from her face.

She nodded and swallowed. “I will be once I’m home.” He moved to close the door, but she reached out to stop him. “Wait. My phone. It was lying on the table.”

“I’ll get it.” He closed her door and took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was walk back into that bar, but he had to arrange for his SUV to be delivered back at Abby’s place.

He entered, and Earle stepped in front of him. “Is Abby okay?”

Nodding, he rubbed his goatee. “I’m going to drive her home. Can you arrange for my Escalade to be taken out to Crawford Creek tonight?” He opened his wallet and pulled a fifty out. “I’ll make it worth the trouble.”

Earle held up his hands and shook his head. “I ain’t taking your money. I’ll get your rig out to the ranch.”

“Thanks, Earle.” With a smile, he put the bill away and handed him the keys to his SUV.

“You just take good care of my cousin. She’s had a hard life. Growing up half Indian wasn’t hard enough, but she practically had to raise herself in the bargain.”

He nodded and glanced toward the table they had occupied earlier. Another couple sat there now. “Hey, Abby left her cell phone on the table. Was it turned in at the bar?”

“I’ll check.” Earle made his way toward the crowded bar.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his feet as he tried to ignore the curious stares. Jenny Lynn weaved her way toward him. He pulled his hands from his pockets and squared his shoulders.

“Where’s Abby? I’ve been looking for her.”

“She’s not feeling well, so I’m taking her home. But she left her phone.”

Jenny Lynn held it out to him. “Here. I picked it up and was going to give it to her.”

“Thanks.” He had a feeling she had something more to say by the way her gaze slid from his and she crossed her arms.

“Abby will kill me if she ever found out I told you this, but I can’t be quiet. She’s my best friend. And quite frankly, you’re the first guy I’ve ever seen her show any spark with.” She cleared her throat and glanced away again. “I just wanted you to know I think her divorce was harder on her than she lets on.”

“So, in other words, don’t hurt her.”

She blushed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Noted.” But he wouldn’t promise. He couldn’t.

He made his way back to Abby’s truck and opened the driver’s door. She rested her head on the back of the seat. As he climbed in, she turned to look at him. He held out the phone and she reached for it. “Thanks. But what about your SUV?”

“Earle is going to have it brought out to your place.”

She slowly nodded, then winced. He started the truck and headed out of the parking lot. The only sounds for miles were their breathing and the rumble of the truck engine. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song he and Emily had written together.

He hit a pothole as he turned onto the country road leading to her ranch.

“Stop the truck.”

He glanced at her. She clutched at her belly, and even in the dim light of the dashboard, he could see her face was turning three shades of green. “Hold on.”

There was no room on the side of the road to pull off, so he stopped in the middle of the driving lane and hit the hazard lights.

She moaned again. “I’m gonna be sick.”

As he unlatched his seatbelt, he swung open his door. She fumbled with the door handle on her side. He rushed around the truck and threw open her door, then reached over her to unclip her seatbelt. She let him help her out of the truck.