Love Song (8 page)

Stunned, Wade turned off the television. He’d had no idea she had collapsed during a performance. She should have been in a hospital long before she set foot on that stage. Even his mother, as driven as she was to succeed, would have chosen her health over her job.

The sheer volume of letters and gifts left him speechless, partly because he suddenly realized that they came from a small portion of her fans. Whenever he thought about her albums selling a million copies, he had envisioned stacks and stacks of CD’s. He had not tried to imagine the number in terms of people.

The broadcaster’s words about Andi’s devotion to her music and her fans and being destined for greatness rang in his ears. None of that was news to him. Then why did having those beliefs confirmed make him feel as if he had fallen into a bottomless pit?

Trying to deal with the barrage of emotions, Wade didn’t think about Andi’s reaction to the story until she slowly got up and walked over to the front window. He turned off the lamp and joined her. Moonlight draped the valley in silver, and thousands of stars sparkled in the dark heavens. Nearby, an owl hooted, and in the distance an elusive pack of coyotes howled and yipped in excited communication.

He glanced at Andi. She stood with her back straight, her arms crossed in front of her like a shield. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You didn’t tell me you collapsed on stage,” he said quietly.

“Didn’t I? I guess I never thought to mention it.” She kept her gaze fixed on the landscape.

“Why did you try to perform that night? Why didn’t you go to a doctor?”

“I had seen a doctor earlier in the week. He gave me some antibiotics and cough medicine and told me to rest. We had two days without a concert, so I took my medicine and practically slept around the clock. I woke up at four o’clock the next afternoon in Tucson and felt terrible, but it was too late to cancel the show outright. Those people had spent their hard earned money on tickets to see me, and I had an obligation to them. Some had driven over a hundred miles, and I didn’t have the heart not try.

“By the time I stepped on stage, I knew I’d made a big mistake. I was so weak I could hardly stand up and had to sit on a stool. I felt as if a giant was standing on my chest and stabbing me every time I took a breath.

“I told the audience that I wasn’t feeling well, and that we were going to do a couple of songs as a thank you for coming and refund their money. I almost made it through the first song before I passed out.”

“So Kyle didn’t push you to do the show?”

“No. He told me to do whatever I needed to do. He was in Los Angeles so he couldn’t see how bad I was. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in any shape to make a coherent decision. I’d been too tired to think straight for over a month.

“He took the first flight out of Los Angeles when he heard I was in the hospital. I didn’t wake up until late the next day, and he was there in my room, napping in a chair. I’d never been in a hospital. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

Wade’s low opinion of the man raised considerably, even as his jealousy increased.

“I was on oxygen, hooked up to I don’t know how many monitors, and had all these tubes poking in me. I was so scared.” The sleeve of her blouse brushed against his arm when she shuddered.

With only the moonlight and the soft, flickering light from the fire surrounding them, it seemed natural to step behind her and put his arms around her. He rested his cheek against her soft, fragrant hair and closed his eyes.

She tensed, then relaxed, and covered his hands with hers. “They had trouble contacting my folks because they were on a trek across the Australian outback. By the time Kyle reached them, we knew I would be all right, so I told them not to come home. Dawn flew up to keep me company. Kyle needed to be in Los Angeles, so he left when she got there. He’d already sent the band and road crew home.”

“I’m glad Dawn was there.” He tried to lighten her spirits. “If I’d known, I would have sent you flowers or maybe a giant bunch of balloons.”

“That would have been sweet, although I don’t know where we would have put them. They wouldn’t let me have any flowers in the room at first. Later, there were so many, I wound up having Dawn take them to other patients.”

“A lot of people love you.” Without thinking, he tightened his arms.

“I know they do, and I appreciate it. I love them, too, in many ways.”

“But?”

She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I don’t know if I can explain it.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

She hesitated and her fingers pressed harder against his hands. “There are people who like my music, and some who care for me as a person, but I’m still lonely. I have been for a long time. I walk out on stage and the audience goes nuts. It pleases me to know they enjoy my music, but deep inside I feel so cold, so empty. When I’m with my family or friends, it’s a little better, but there is still something missing.” She turned in his arms, facing him, resting her hands against his chest. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t know if I can stand it.”

Heart pounding, Wade looked down into her dark eyes, aching at the despair he saw there. Words of love sprang up in his heart, promises he barely kept from tumbling from his lips. Nothing on earth could keep him from lowering his head toward hers and try to take away her hurt in the gentleness of his kiss.

He rejoiced as she welcomed him, accepting his tenderness as a soothing balm. Then without warning, in spite of his hard won restraint, the kiss took on a new urgency, a deeper fervor, as she sought more than solace.

Sensing her desperation, he reluctantly raised his head and cradled her tenderly against him. She cared for him; he felt it in her touch. But she didn’t love him, not with the last-a-lifetime kind of love he had to have.

And it was just as well. He could never be the kind of man she needed, traveling with the rodeo had taught him that. He needed to be on the ranch, working in the open country, not constantly moving from city to city. Trying to adapt to her lifestyle would be tantamount to throwing a rope around his neck and tightening the loop a little more each day until he suffocated.

“I’d better go home.” She pushed lightly on his chest, and he released her. She shoved her hair back out of her face, revealing her flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on to you like that. I know what you must think.”

Honey, you don’t have a clue.
“What?” He followed her toward the back door, blinking as she switched on the kitchen light.

“That I’ve...that I’ve probably been with lots of men.” She pulled on one shoe. “Let’s face it. Entertainers aren’t often perceived as having very good morals.” She put on the other shoe, then straightened.

Wade tugged on his second boot, practically holding his breath to see where the conversation was going. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. He straightened and looked at her. “Some of them do.”

“And some of them don’t. It’s not unusual for one or two of my band members to down a six-pack and go find a wife for the night. We have groupies that follow us from town to town.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

He leaned against the kitchen counter. “Do any men follow you?”

“Some have, but it didn’t do them any good.” She pulled her finger loose from the loop of hair and looked down, rubbing a smudge on the vinyl floor with the toe of her shoe.

He had the feeling she wished she hadn’t said anything. He gently nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “Andi, what are you trying to tell me?”

She met his gaze and took a deep breath. “That I’m not like those guys in the band, in spite of the way I acted a few minutes ago. When I get married and make love to my husband, it will be my first time.”

Hallelujah!
He pushed away from the counter and slowly framed her face with both hands.

Mesmerized, Andi stared up at him, holding her breath. His eyes glowed softly with tenderness and admiration, but something else danced in the shadows, flitting into the light for a heartbeat before it was hidden again. Something so beautiful she dared not give it a name. Then his lips touched hers in a whisper kiss, and pure sweetness filled her soul. He raised his head and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs before dropping his hands to his sides. “What was that?” she whispered.

“Man thanking woman for a precious gift.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “You’re right. I’d better take you home. I’m starting to wax poetic and that could get bad.”

She smiled. “I don’t know, I kinda like it.”

They drove back to town, listening to the radio, sometimes singing along, simply enjoying each other’s company. By the time they strolled up the front steps of Dawn’s house, he knew there was something he was supposed to say. He felt awkward, considering that in high school, she had been the one talking to him about walking with Jesus.

A policeman drove past, tossing them a wave and a grin. Wade glanced up at the bright porch light and decided talking was all he could do. It was too well lighted and too public to even think about a lingering good night kiss.

“You have a wonderful ranch. Thank you for such a nice day.” Andi smiled up at him.

“I enjoyed it, too. Maybe you can come out again before long.”

“I’d like that.”

He opened the screen door. As she reached for the doorknob on the front door, he laid his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her expression questioning. “You really aren’t alone, you know. Jesus is walking right beside you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m afraid I strayed off the path a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t matter. Remember his promise? ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’“

“But what if we leave him?” she whispered. “What if we forsake him?”

“Romans says that nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Not death or life, angels or demons, the present or the future, any powers, height or depth or anything in all creation will be able to separate us from his love. If you reach out to him, you’ll find that he’s right there waiting for you.”

She was still clearly troubled, unconvinced.

“Think about it. That’s all I’m asking. You’re his child, and he loves you very much.” He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ten years ago, you told me to put my hand in his, to trust him with my hurt and my problems. I’m kinda hard-headed, so it took a few years before I followed your advice. Others shared his love and nurtured me, but you planted the seeds, Andi. It was remembering your belief in him, your faith and trust, that kept me from turning my back on him completely. I never did thank you for that.”

“You just did.” She tried to smile, but it wobbled around the edges.

“I guess so.” He smiled and glanced up and down the street. Not a car in sight, and it looked as if the neighbors weren’t home. He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, then opened the front door. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“Yeah, right.” She shook her head, but her smile held firm. “Since I got sick, my poor brain has cranked out some pretty weird dreams. After all that has happened today and everything we’ve talked about, they’re bound to be doozies.”

“That’s probably where some movie makers get their ideas. You could start a whole new career.”

She laughed and poked him in the stomach with her finger. “Say good night, Wade.”

“Good night, Wade.”

Groaning at his corny joke, she tried to poke him again, but he jumped out of the way with a laugh.

He stopped at the edge of the porch, one foot on the first step, and looked back at her. “Good night, darlin’.”

He kept his smile until she went inside and closed the door. Walking to the Blazer, he whistled an old, mournful cowboy tune, wishing with all his heart for what could never be.

Andi went inside and closed the front door behind her. Pausing for a moment, she listened to the tune Wade was whistling, an old song of unrequited love. Hearing those sad notes confirmed her belief that what he felt for her went beyond friendship and physical attraction. She wondered if over time, it could grow into love.

Is there a future for us?
The depth of her hope and longing frightened her. Could she be imagining her feelings for him simply because she wanted so badly to care for someone and have him care for her? The last thing in the world she wanted was to hurt him. He was tender, considerate, and protective. Maybe too protective. She was used to fending for herself against the often overwhelming demands placed on her. It would be easy to grow too dependent upon him.

Dawn looked up from the romance novel she was reading, interrogating her cousin with her gaze. “Well?”

Andi dropped into the big, comfortable, yellow chair. “I like him a lot. And he likes me. Maybe a lot. I think I can safely say we’ve moved a step beyond merely being friends.”

“So I assume he kissed you?”

Andi laughed softly. Her cousin could be the most tactful person on earth when she wanted to be, or the most direct. “Nosy. Yes, he kissed me.”

“And?”

“And what?” She couldn’t resist teasing her.

“What was it like? Did you hear a symphony?”

Andi considered the question, remembering those precious moments. “No symphony, but a flute, the sweetest, purest notes drifting on the wind.”

Dawn sighed. “How romantic.”

“And fireworks. Big time. Like the Fourth of July at the Statue of Liberty.”

Dawn’s golden-brown eyes grew wide. “Oh, my.” She groaned and pounded her fist on the couch. “I’m green with envy. I don’t think I’m ever going to find the right man. Not in this one horse town, anyway.”

“I thought you liked living here.”

“I do. I wouldn’t really want to live anywhere else. But I think I’ve dated every eligible man within twenty miles—except Wade. I haven’t had fireworks with anybody. Haven’t even heard a firecracker or a sparkler.”

Andi laughed. “Sparklers don’t make noise.”

“Sometimes they kind of sputter.” Dawn made a face. “Guess I wouldn’t want a man who sputtered anyway.” Her expression grew solemn. “I’ve had a few offers. Maybe I’m being too picky.”