Authors: Fern Michaels
Sara's Song (15 page)
“Later. Let's go down to the studio. I want to play a couple of songs for you. Or, would you rather watch a movie?”
“Let's go to the studio. I'd love to hear you sing. I love Roy Orbison. I have all his tapes.”
“I do too.”
“Then let's go.” Sara linked her arm with Dallas's. It felt right and it felt good.
“You should smile more often, Dr. Killian.”
Sara laughed. “So should you, Mr. Lord.”
“Sit right here, Sara. I'm going to sing you a song. It needs some backup, and you can do that once you've heard it. Are you ready?”
Sara sat cross-legged on a pile of thick cushions, her attention rapt as Dallas positioned his guitar. He closed his eyes. She knew he was in another world, a world of his own making. Tears blurred her vision as she listened to the words Dallas had created just for her.
A long time later, Dallas hunched his shoulders, his eyes wide-open. “Did you likes it?”
“Like it! I loved it! It's beautiful. Does it have a name?”
“Of course. âSara's Song.' I love writing ballads. I think I got just the right mix. It's sad, it's haunting, and yet it's
alive
. It's just two verses. It's what I feel for you, Sara. I wrote it just for you. When I fine-tune it, we'll record it. Do you feel comfortable singing with me?”
alive
. It's just two verses. It's what I feel for you, Sara. I wrote it just for you. When I fine-tune it, we'll record it. Do you feel comfortable singing with me?”
“No!” Sara blurted. “I don't think I'm good enough to sing with Dallas Lord. Just because I sing with the choir doesn't mean I'm good enough to be professional.”
“You worry too much. All this stuff is digital. I can make you sound better than Sandi and the other girls. Besides, this is just for you. Or us, if you prefer. No one is ever going to hear it but the two of us. That's what makes it special. I'll make two copies for you, the master and an extra. I wanted to do something special for you. It's all I know how to do, Sara. Do you really like it?”
“Dallas, I don't know what to say. It was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. What an incredible talent you have. I will treasure this song forever. I want to say something, but I don't know the words.” Her voice turned suddenly shy. “I feel the same way, but I wouldn't have been able to express it like you did. I guess I am still stunned. Thank you, Dallas. I'll keep it safe forever and ever.”
Dallas laughed. “Forever is a very long time, Sara. You have to keep the master copy safe. There are people out there who pirate our stuff. A Dallas Lord song goes for big bucks. Will you promise me that you won't play it for anyone? I want it to be ours. Maybe someday, when we're really old, we can decide if we want to release the song. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure. What if someone steals it? I've been known to lose things. I'm not saying I will, but what if?”
“You have the master. Once I give it to you, you are responsible for it. That's why it's called a gift.” Dallas chuckled.
“I'll probably worry myself sick over it.” Sara's heart felt like it was swelling inside her chest. The overwhelming urge to have him take her in his arms was back with her. She closed her eyes to ward off the lightheadedness she was feeling.
“Don't tell anyone about it,” Dallas said. “If you keep it a secret, no one will know you even have it.”
“Did you tell anyone you were writing the song, Dallas?”
“Only Sandi. She won't tell anyone.”
A chill ran up Sara's back. “I promise I'll keep it safe for us,” she said.
“Of course you will. It's going to be my wedding present to you. It just needs a little fine-tuning. Do you want to hear the song I'm working on for Billy's memory? After I play it for you we can do âSara's Song' with you doing the backup. I have a copy of the words for you. This is great, isn't it, Sara?”
Sara shivered. “It really is great, Dallas. When are you going to call your brother?”
“You really want me to do that, don't you?”
“Only if you want to, and I think you do. I can go out to the kitchen while you make the call.”
“All right, I'll do it now. You can stay.”
Sara shook her head. “I'll baste the turkey. Are you going to tell him about the song?”
“No way!” Dallas's voice was vehement. “I'll buzz you on the intercom when I finish the call.”
In the sterile-looking kitchen, Sara leaned over the kitchen sink. Is this what she went to school for, all those years? Was Dallas Lord her destiny? If her parents were alive, what would they say if they knew she was going to marry a rock star for material reasons? She wasn't going to think about the love and passion part right now. If she put all her own fears and worries aside, could she be happy knowing and believing she could make Dallas's life better and her own as well? Dallas needed her.
I need him, too. God, what will people say when they hear about this? The last time someone needed me was when Carly was fifteen. An eternity ago
.
I need him, too. God, what will people say when they hear about this? The last time someone needed me was when Carly was fifteen. An eternity ago
.
She sighed. “Like Scarlett said, I'll think about this tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
Adam Lord tugged, wrestled, and finallyâusing his booted footâshoved the monster Christmas tree through the gates leading to the courtyard. He heaved a mighty sigh when he became aware of seven curious sets of eyes on him. “The real challenge,” he muttered to the dogs, “is getting it into the living room.” The six pups yipped and squeaked their excitement at these strange goings-on. The mother dog, now named Izzie, barked as the pups scrambled in and among the branches. Izzie continued to bark, running back and forth to the gate and then finally tugging on Adam's pant leg. She backed up and ran back to the gate, her barks more shrill and harsh-sounding.
“Okay, okay, I get it. I didn't padlock the gate. You want to see me do it. You want to hear the sound of the lock. That means your pups are safe.” The padlock snapped into place, hitting the metal flange. “No one goes in and no one goes out. The guys are safe, Izzie.”
Adam eyed the huge fir tree and the pups crawling in the branches, Izzie hovering nearby. His very first Christmas tree. In his very own house. He felt happy, wonderful, and at peace with himself. It was the Christmas season, and he was going all out for the first time in his life. He'd even planned a small cocktail partyâinviting the broker who'd sold him the house, two of his neighbors, a Wachovia Bank officer and his wife, his new veterinarian, and the florist who'd decorated his house with fragrant evergreen boughs, mistletoe, and poinsettias. He even had presents to put under the tree, all dog gifts ordered from the Delight Doggie Shoppe.
Ninety minutes later, Adam stood back to survey his handiwork. The sixteen-foot-high Douglas fir stood regally in the corner, its tip reaching the vaulted ceiling. He sucked in his breath as he bent to rescue two of the precocious pups guzzling water from the tree stand. He looked around. The house was definitely lived-in now. Everywhere he looked there were pee stains. Even though he'd cleaned and scrubbed, the stains were still there. Well, he had a lead on that, too, a dog trainer, supposedly the best in his field, was due to arrive shortly. The man had guaranteed tranquility by nightfall.
Fit and trim, light on his feet, Adam was no match for the six cavorting pups as they beelined for the low branches of the tree, tugging ferociously, snapping and snarling when the needles scratched their tiny faces. Izzie watched indulgently as Adam picked the pups up and carried them to the sink in the laundry room. He washed them with a citrus-smelling shampoo and wrapped them in fluffy yellow towels. He should have worn a raincoat.
The bath ordeal over, Adam headed for the second floor, all seven dogs trailing behind. Izzie was last, so she could boost the runt whose rump was too fat to make the steps. They watched his every move. The moment his Nikes thumped on the floor the pups were on top of them. As it was, his shoelaces were little more than thin threads, the inner soles tattered. When he returned from the bathroom, fully dressed, one pup was asleep inside his sneaker, one was curled up on his wet jeans, two of them were tugging on his sock. He could see the holes from where he was standing. Pups three and four were tussling with each other as Izzie watched from her position on Adam's pillow.
Adam jumped out of the way when the doorbell shrilled to life. They were a mini herd as they galloped to the top of the steps, then tumbled down the rest of the way. He opened the door to admit a pudgy man wearing a Braves baseball cap with a whistle around his neck. The bedlam was silenced immediately when the whistle blew. Adam blinked. The trainer's voice was musical-sounding when he said, “Mr. Lord, it's 1:20. By 6:20 this evening, you will be able to hear yourself think. Show me where their beds are, get me a beer, and do yourself a favor and disappear until 6:15. Adam did as instructed and retired to the living room, where he closed the pocket doors before proceeding to string the lights on his Christmas tree. From time to time he smiled as he listened to the whistle in the kitchen.
No one in their right mind had seven dogs. No one in their right mind bought an all-terrain vehicle for $70,000 just for seven dogs. The Range Rover was his Christmas present to himself. The keys were on the mantel. He was still trying to make up his mind whether to wrap them or not.
The tree was finished at three o'clock. The dogs' presentsâchewies, squeak toys, new leashes and collarsâall wrapped by four. He looked around. It was definitely festive. He wished suddenly that someone was sitting next to him on the sofa. Someone to talk to. Someone to tell him the tree looked beautiful. He didn't stop to think, he reached for the phone to dial his brother's number.
“Dallas, it's Adam. Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to come to South Carolina and spend Christmas with me. Just the two of us. I put my tree up today and decorated it myself. Yeah, I know it's early, but it's my first time. I want to have plenty of time to enjoy it. I have these seven dogs. Yeah, yeah, seven. You're right, Dallas, I almost forgot you're leaving for Vegas. The dogs take up all my time. When you wind it up, come here instead of going back to LA. We can talk about
that mess
in your bedroom when you get here. Hell, yes, the house is already decorated. From top to bottom. I swear, Dallas, it looks just like those pictures we used to look at in Millie's catalogues. Do you remember how we used to promise each other we'd have houses like that someday? I have the house, but it doesn't feel right because you aren't here. What's there to think about, Dallas? Either you want to come or you don't. We need to talk, Dallas. And, each of us needs to listen to the other one. I'm glad you're getting married. No, of course I'm not angry that you want Al for your best man. It's your wedding. All I ever wanted, Dallas, was for you to be happy. Okay, then, it's settled. Call me when you're ready to leave Vegas. I'll pick you up at the airport. You want me to bring all seven of the dogs. Sure. I just call them One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six. The mother's name is Izzie. The runt is Six. You want me to call him Dallas? Sure. Dallas Six it is. You want me to do
what
, Dallas? Sure, sure, licorice, Jujubes, and a new comic book in an orange string bag. It's okay, Dallas. I knew where you were coming from back then. Have a safe flight. Dedicate your first number to Dallas Six. I'll see you next week. Dallas, I do love you. I just want you to know that. I guess I'm getting mushy in my old age. Maybe it's that my little brother is getting married. The rest of the stuff is all bullshit. Okay, Dallas.” His voice was gruff and choked-sounding. To his ear, Dallas's voice sounded the same way. “Good-bye.”
that mess
in your bedroom when you get here. Hell, yes, the house is already decorated. From top to bottom. I swear, Dallas, it looks just like those pictures we used to look at in Millie's catalogues. Do you remember how we used to promise each other we'd have houses like that someday? I have the house, but it doesn't feel right because you aren't here. What's there to think about, Dallas? Either you want to come or you don't. We need to talk, Dallas. And, each of us needs to listen to the other one. I'm glad you're getting married. No, of course I'm not angry that you want Al for your best man. It's your wedding. All I ever wanted, Dallas, was for you to be happy. Okay, then, it's settled. Call me when you're ready to leave Vegas. I'll pick you up at the airport. You want me to bring all seven of the dogs. Sure. I just call them One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six. The mother's name is Izzie. The runt is Six. You want me to call him Dallas? Sure. Dallas Six it is. You want me to do
what
, Dallas? Sure, sure, licorice, Jujubes, and a new comic book in an orange string bag. It's okay, Dallas. I knew where you were coming from back then. Have a safe flight. Dedicate your first number to Dallas Six. I'll see you next week. Dallas, I do love you. I just want you to know that. I guess I'm getting mushy in my old age. Maybe it's that my little brother is getting married. The rest of the stuff is all bullshit. Okay, Dallas.” His voice was gruff and choked-sounding. To his ear, Dallas's voice sounded the same way. “Good-bye.”
Adam smacked his hands together. “Ah, life is looking good.” He looked at his watch. He had time to run to Harris Teeter to get the orange bag.
Later, he was all thumbs when he cut the orange, nylon mesh in the pattern of a Christmas stocking. Twice he got a lump in his throat when he remembered how Dallas had thrown the stocking at him when they were children. Well, that was then, this was now. He jammed the stocking full of Jujubes, and licorice, squeezing the Superman comic book down into the toe of the stocking. He attached a red velvet bow to the top of the stocking with Scotch tape before he hung it on the mantel next to the seven stockings for the dogs. He started to laugh when he stared at the seven red velvet stockings with their appliquéd designs at fifty bucks a pop. Dallas's homemade creation was six dollars tops, if you didn't count the cost of the red bow. And he had a dozen oranges to eat.
It was ten minutes of six when Adam popped a cola drink, his feet on the coffee table. It was dark out now, the lights on the tree winking in the dark room. The room looked so beautiful he felt himself start to choke up. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't heard the whistle for a long time. Five minutes to go. He slid the pocket doors open, tiptoeing quietly toward the kitchen. He peeked around the corner, clapping his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Mother and offspring were lined up in a neat row, their eyes expectant as they waited for their next order. When the whistle sounded two short blasts of sound, the line moved to the right. Seven more blasts followed. One by one the dogs ran to their tartan plaid beds. Five and Six mixed up the beds and were rewarded with one long piercing belt of sound. They immediately rectified the situation and were rewarded with a treat.
Tom Silk clapped his hands, his musical voice full of praise as he patted the dogs and tweaked their noses.
“I see it, but I don't believe it. They actually listened to you. Izzie listens, but the pups do as they please.”
“That's because you let them do as they please. At this age they need to be confined. You've got the doggie door, so they can go in the garden at will to do their business. You must praise them. It's your tone of voice more than what you say. The whistle is something they understand. You can't abuse it. You have to stop feeding them that crap you've been dishing out. Dry dog food full of nutrients is what they get from now on. Once they get used to the new food they won't be peeing and pooping every two minutes. You're keeping all of them?”
Adam looked at Izzie, who was watching and listening. “Of course.” Izzie lay down with her head between her paws. The pups were sound asleep.
“I've taken the liberty of writing out some guidelines to make it easier for you. Each blast of the whistle means something. Repetition is how they learn. The pups are going to make a lot of mistakes in the beginning, so you need to be patient, and praise goes a long way if they're trying. Izzie picked it up right away. She'll help. Where did you get these dogs if you don't mind me asking? I would have thought you were a horse man.”
“I have a ranch in Wyoming and yes, I like horses. I found Izzie and her pups in the garden. I think she got in when the man came to read the meter. I keep the garden gate locked now because she gets spooked if it's open. I think she's afraid I'll turn her out. I would never do that, but she doesn't know it yet.”
“Oh, yes, she does. Dogs are more intuitive than humans in my opinion. She knows these little guys are a handful, that's why she helped out. She's still afraid you might sell them off or take them to the pound. She needs to be reassured. When she trusts you completely, you'll know it. No one will have to tell you. When that moment comes it will be unlike anything you ever experienced. Trust me.”
“Okay. Listen, I'm having a small Christmas party next week. Would you like to come?”
“You mean with a date in dress-up duds without the whistle?”
Adam laughed. “Yeah.”
“I'll be here. If you have any problems, call me even if it's the middle of the night. I can be here in fifteen minutes if there's an emergency. By the way, I'm a vet.”
“I didn't know that. Did you give it up?”
“Nah. It gave me up. I can't put a dog to sleep. I just can't. I'm one of those guys who wants to take all the dogs home with me. This works. The animals like me and know I like them. I'll see you next week. This is just a guess on my part, but I think those pups will sleep through the night. Leave some food and water out in case they wake up. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You look familiar. I know you aren't from around here. This is a crazy way-out question but are you any relationship to that rock star Dallas Lord?”
“He's my brother.”
“My girlfriend is his biggest fan. She has every single album of his. You're the guy behind the scenes, huh?”
Adam shrugged. He wasn't going to get into that. “You could say that. Thanks for everything.” He handed over a check.
“Remember now, your two favorite words from here on in are ârepetition' and âpatience.' ”
“I'll remember.”
Adam closed and locked the front door. He talked to Izzie as he made his dinner. “Let's me and you go into the living room and watch some television, Izzie. We can look at the tree, and I can tell you the story of my life. I think I know how you might feel. I was in a place like that myself for a long time. So was Dallas. You and I are going to bond, little lady. Big time.”
At two in the morning, Adam got up from the couch and stretched, yawning wearily. He turned off the television set before he followed Izzie to the kitchen to check on the pups. Izzie whined, her eyes going from the pups to the whistle on the hearth. “Oh, oh. Our first problem.” Adam dropped to his haunches as he stared at Numbers Five and Six curled together in Dallas Six's bed. “You know what I say, Izzie, the hell with it. No whistle. Let them sleep. You know that story I was telling you earlier about Dallas and me. We used to sleep together because Dallas was always scared. I was, too. This is okay.” The spaniel licked at Adam's face, her eyes expectant.
Adam checked the locks on the door, turned the night-light low, filled the water and food bowls before he left the kitchen. In the doorway leading to the dining room he turned. “It's one of those either or decisions, Izzie. You can come upstairs or you can stay down here.” Izzie's tail swished as she trotted from one tartan-covered bed to the other. Satisfied, she trotted after her new master and reached the top of the steps before he did.
“In my wildest dreams I never thought I'd be sleeping with a dog at the age of forty-two. I get the right side. I snore, and I'm all over the bed. I also sleep like I'm dead. You can ring a bell in my ear, and I won't wake up until seven o'clock. Just so you know.”
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