Heartstrings (7 page)

Sitting up, Seth felt the tension knotting his shoulders relax a little and then get tighter. “You knew?”

“Pretty hard to miss it. She looks too much like my momma.”

Setting his mug on the side table, he stood and leaned over the banister between two of her monster geraniums. “Who else knows?” The ceasing of the creaking of the rocker against the floor alerted him when she stopped. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Did Dad know?”

“If he did, he never let on. And I’m sure some of the people who knew Momma wonder, but not many of them are still alive.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You never answered my question.”

“No, I didn’t just find out.” He stared over the back yard again without seeing it. He sighed and tucked his chin, feeling suddenly ashamed. “I knew Abby was pregnant when I left.”

“What are you saying, Seth Christopher? That you left that poor girl and ran out on your responsibilities? I know damned well your daddy raised you better than to do something like that.”

There was no mistaking the condemnation in his aunt’s voice. He turned, ready to defend himself, but how could he argue against the truth?

No, he wasn’t going to feel guilty about leaving. He’d had no choice. Abby hadn’t given him one.

“I wanted to take her with me, but she wouldn’t come. I promised her I’d be back.” He fisted his hand against the sudden knots into which his guts were tying themselves. Obviously, they protested this kind of spillage. “But when I came home, she was married to my best friend. In some ways, as much as it hurt, I was also glad.”

Johanna sucked in a breath. “You were afraid of becoming like your parents.”

He nodded and closed his eyes against the ache. “I was stupid. I was a fool. But yes. How could I think anything else? Mom was nineteen when she screwed up her chance at Nashville by getting knocked up with me. Then committed suicide when she couldn’t stand life on the ranch anymore. Dad used his belt or fist whenever he didn’t get what he wanted from me. Great role models, those two.”

“Why didn’t you ever come home?”

He stared at the profusion of colors in the garden and sighed. “Abby and Mike were happy, or at least seemed to be. And I knew I’d never be half the father Mike would be. He convinced me Emily would be better off never knowing me.” He faced his aunt and fisted his hands against the pain in his soul. “And like a damned fool, I believed him.”

“You don’t believe that now, do you?” She stood and came up beside him. Her touch was warm and gentle as she laid her hand on his bare forearm.

“No.”

“What are you going to do?”

He shook his head and tightened his grip on his fist until his hand cramped. “I don’t know. I told Abby I’d sue her for custody, but I’d really hate to do that. It would only end up hurting everyone I care about–my family, Frank, Carolann, Emily...Abby.”

Sucking a breath into his tight chest, he forced his fist to relax and stabbed all ten fingers into his still-damp hair. He met her sympathetic eyes and let out a breath along with his anger. “I made a terrible mistake, but I’m a whole lot older and wiser now. I want to get to know my daughter. I may never be able to be her father, but I want her to know me...not just what she reads in the tabloids. Me.” He tapped his chest to emphasize the word. “Because Abby and Mike don’t seem to think I deserve even that right, I need to be armed with as much information as possible.”

“What kind of information?”

Seth turned his body and leaned his backside against the banister. “What do you know about Mike and Abby’s marriage?”

“You’re expecting me to know about that?” She arched an eyebrow and went back to pulling dead flowers off the King Kong-sized begonia.

“You must have seen or heard something. You and Carolann are friends.” He crossed his ankles and hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “What happened to them?”

She snorted and tossed handful of faded blossoms into the bucket. “What you really want to know is how the heck he ended up with Tammy Jo?”

He smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “When I left for Nashville, he and Tammy Jo were gaga for each other. When I come back seven months later, he and the mother of my baby are married and in love. I don’t know about you, but something just isn’t adding up.”

She studied him a minute, then began removing dead flowers from one of the geraniums next to him. “Tammy Jo did leave for Harvard before Mike and Abby married, if I remember correctly. Maybe they broke up and he moved on.”

“To a girl pregnant with his best friend’s baby?”

She stopped snapping faded stems from the plant and leaned against a porch post. “All right, here’s what I think.”

She tossed her hat onto one of the rockers and narrowed her eyes at him. The morning sunlight caught in the bright red of her graying ponytail and made her appear at least twenty years younger. Why hadn’t Johanna ever married?

“Charles Crawford was dying. It was only a matter of time. Abby was his only heir. I heard a rumor that she inherited not only the ranch but nearly five million dollars from that big insurance settlement Charlie won after the accident that killed Emmy and paralyzed him.”

A frown tugged on his brow. He knew about the money Abby’s father won after a drunk driver ran the only red light in town and hit the passenger side of the car Charlie was driving, killing his wife instantly and leaving him with a broken back. “Charles died right after Emily was born, didn’t he?”

Johanna nodded and compressed her lips. “Yeah, she was born in the spring, I think, Charlie passed away in the fall. But I remember John commenting on something that Frank had told him. Mike insisted on paying off some of the debt on the Circle R. If he hadn’t, the Ritters would have lost that place. Since the Crawford ranch sits next to the Circle R, I think Mike planned to join the ranches someday. But when he and Abby called it quits two years ago, he gave her back her ranch.”

He snorted and looked out over the backyard. “Did he give back her money, too?”

“That, I don’t know.”

He peered at her again. “So, when did Tammy Jo show up in the picture?”

“Not long after Abby and Mike divorced, they started coming out at town functions together.” Johanna plucked more dead flowers off another hanging plant. “That was when Mike ran for sheriff. She supported him, and well, we all know the power the McAllisters yield in this town.”

He studied her. Her lips still compressed together, and by the way she was attacking the purple trumpets of the petunia, he feared for the poor thing’s life. “You have an opinion about all this.”

She paused, but didn’t look at him. “I don’t know a blessed thing, but I’ll say this.” She met his gaze with blazing certainty belying her words. “I think Mike and Tammy Jo have been together ever since her father died four years ago when she came home from New York.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting.”

She peered down her finger at him, reminding him of when she was his sixth grade teacher. “Not as interesting as why you aren’t trying to make things right. Just remember, you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”

What the hell did that mean? “I have every intention to make things right, Aunt Johanna. I think that’s one reason I came home. I realized how much I’ve missed. If Dad left me the ranch, I’m moving onto it. I’ll be away much of the time, but this will be my home.”

“This has always been your home, Seth.” Her finely lined lips curled upward as she crossed the porch. She opened the screen door and paused. “You really should get your butt over to the nursing home and visit your granddaddy.”

The door closed with a bang, leaving Seth staring after her. What did his grandfather have to do with anything?

* * * *

Abby pulled the crazy flamingo-themed lab jacket over her hot pink scrubs as she entered the dementia and Alzheimer’s unit nursing station from the staff lounge. Behind the communal desk, fellow RN Jenny Lynn Cooke sat working at the computer.

Jenny Lynn stopped typing and looked up when Abby stopped beside her. “Hey. I guess Darlene called off again. You’re stuck with an agency nurse tonight.”

“Yeah, I know.” She picked up a clipboard. Scribbles of the latest orders from the doctor covered the front page. “We’ll get along fine. She’s coming on right before supper and the evening meds rodeo.” When she finished reading the orders for her shift, she sighed and looked over the charts lying on the desk.

“Darlene hasn’t called me. How’s Max?” Jenny Lynn asked, referring to Darlene’s husband.

She leaned against the edge of the counter and looked down at her hands. Jenny Lynn and Darlene had been her friends since nursing school. Since Darlene was married to a Hispanic and Jenny Lynn didn’t have a prejudiced bone in her body, she felt blessed to have them as her friends. She never had to make excuses for her parents’ mistakes. “Max took a turn for the worse after she got off work last night. He had a terrible seizure and slipped into a coma.”

“Oh, no.” Jenny Lynn covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.” She’d become a nurse because she hated the cancer that finished rotting what was left of her father’s brain after years of alcoholism. “Between Dad’s brain cancer and the years I worked at the hospital, I’ve seen my share of glioblastoma patients. Personally, I’m surprised he’s hung on this long.”

A masculine–and painfully familiar–voice drifted from behind her. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m looking for Mr. Steven Harris’s room. The receptionist downstairs said he was on this floor.”

She turned to the man on the other side of the counter.

“Abigail? You work here?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God! You’re Seth Kendall.” Jenny Lynn gasped, jumping from her chair, and gaped at him.

Seth dragged his gaze from Abby and addressed the other nurse. “That would be me. My grandfather is Steven Harris.”

Blushing, Jenny Lynn regained her composure and smiled as she held out her hand. “I’m terribly sorry. I shouldn’t be surprised. He has pictures of you in his room. I’ve just never met anyone remotely famous before. I’m Jenny Lynn Cooke and am one of the nurses taking care of Mr. Harris.”

“It’s okay, Miz Cooke. I haven’t met many nurses either.”

Jenny Lynn giggled as she took her hand back. “I have all of your CDs and really love your last song on the radio. The lyrics are just crazy.”

He chuckled, the deep rumble warming her clear through.

“Thanks,” he drawled. “I usually don’t choose that kind of beer drinking, tongue-in-cheek song, but I liked it when I heard the demo.”

The corridor filled with the nursing staff poking their heads out of rooms. As fans descended upon him, he lowered his head. “Thanks. I do appreciate your support, and I’ll see what I can do for y’all.”

For several minutes, Seth signed autographs and chatted with the staff as if they were the most important people in his life. Taken aback by his sincerity and genuine appreciation of his fans, Abby watched him, as enthralled as her co-workers.

Eventually, the staff went back to their duties, and the few patients who had come forward to see about the ruckus forgot he was even there.

“Sorry, ladies. Sometimes things get a little wild.” Seth flashed a lopsided grin.

His gaze traveled over her face and hair, lingering on her lips. Heat crept over her cheeks. She tugged the jacket closed and crossed her arms over her chest. Nothing was as asexual as her whimsical, baggy scrubs and the stethoscope looped around her neck.

“This was so nice of you.” Jenny Lynn held her autographed day planner in the air. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, Miz Cooke.” He studied Abby a moment. “Can I talk to you later?”

The deep green of his shirt was the exact color of his eyes. The reddish blond hair she’d always loved curled around his ears and over his collar.

“I’m sure I’ll be busy.” She forced herself to look down at the clipboard and away from his eyes. Her heart raced and sweat gathered on her neck. “Seth, what are you doing here?”

“Visiting my granddaddy.” She didn’t need to look at him to hear the smile in his voice.

“Right,” she muttered and picked up the clipboard, but set it back down again when it quivered with her trembling hands.

Jenny Lynn said, “I can show you to his room if you’d like.”

“Thanks. But since Abby doesn’t seem to be busy right this minute I’ll just talk to her now. We grew up together and were good friends.”