Heartstrings (4 page)

“You know why I had to leave. It was my one and only chance. Goddamn it, you didn’t give me any other option.”

She snorted and squared her shoulders. “You had fame and fortune to chase. I’m glad you achieved your dreams. But it came with a price.”

“I told you I’d be back. But when I returned you were married to my best friend.”

“You were gone for seven months!” She gritted her teeth against the old hurt. “You never called or wrote, but I watched that damned talent show every week and cheered you on. Then the next thing I heard, you were dating Amanda Lang from the show. I figured you made your choice. You wanted no part of me or my baby. So, I made mine.”

“Amanda and I were and are just friends. The media blew that whole duet thing out of proportion. It wasn’t until I found out you were married and gave away my little girl that we became friends with benefits.”

The memory of watching them together on the show churned inside her. Maybe the media had taken an innocent friendship of two teenagers and attached a connotation that wasn’t there. Still, he couldn’t deny he and the blond, green-eyed pop star started dating two weeks after he returned to Nashville after his winning the show and had been in an on again-off again relationship for years.

He looked into his glass of whiskey. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or write. I was eighteen and scared shitless. I had to concentrate on winning, but the whole time I was thinking about you.”

She laughed, but instead of coming out bitter, it scratched and resounded with too much raw pain. “You were scared? What the hell do you think I was? I was seventeen and pregnant. My father was dying with a brain tumor, and I had a ranch to run.”

He grabbed her arm when she spun away. “I had to sing in that competition. Otherwise, it would’ve taken ten years to get to the kind of success I got from winning
America’s Rising Star
. If I ever got that chance again. My mother never did. This place killed her. I couldn’t let that happen to me. Or to you and our baby.”

She swallowed but couldn’t work her constricted throat.

“I wanted you to come with me.” His voice dipped low enough it might have been on the verge of cracking. “I wanted you and our baby, Abigail. You are the one who turned your back on me. You’re the one who couldn’t wait to fall into bed with my best friend.”

Oh, how she wished she could tell him the truth about her and Mike, but she wouldn’t. She glared at his hand on her upper arm, then at him. “You’re drunk. Let go, now.”

He stepped back, letting go. She was amazed at how calm she’d sounded, because inside her a twister had taken up residence. Her heart raced and her jaw and hands ached from clenching tightly. “You knew why I couldn’t run off to Nashville with you and live on dreams and fairytales. Mike understood, and he was here when I needed him. He gave me what you wouldn’t.”

But neither of them knew the real reason she didn’t go with Seth.

When she reached the grass again, she turned toward him and folded her arms in front of her. “If you’re thinking about staying here, you can forget it. I don’t want you around. My being divorced has nothing to do with you. Mike is still Emily’s father, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

She blinked against the burn in her eyes. Damn, if she didn’t soon get out of here, she’d start bawling. “Go back to your fast cars and even faster women. Go back to your stadiums full of groupies and your high life as a Grammy-winning superstar. McAllister, Texas, has nothing for you. It never has.”

Chapter 2

Seth walked up the stone pathway to the front of the Spanish style house of the Circle R Ranch. He had a lot of fond memories of the old place. Carolann always had a way of making him feel welcome and wanted.

Dear God, how he’d wished his mother could have been more like her when he was little. Then after his father had changed and become mean and started hitting him, he wished he could have moved in with the Ritters. That he and Mike were real brothers and he wouldn’t have to go home ever again.

He looked past the barn. New white paint reflected the late afternoon sun. Black Angus cattle fed on the grass and sleek horses stood in the corral. During his and Mike’s senior year, the cattle had been sold off to pay the mounting debts, and the only horses around had been two old swayback mares.

Frank had served his first term as county judge then, but he had never been a good manager of finances. He’d run the place to the ground and was living from hand to mouth for years.

He looked back at the house. It, too, had been updated with amenities it hadn’t had fifteen years ago. The pool was new, as was the four-car garage in front of which was parked a fancy black sports car. He recognized the Mercedes from the funeral. Mike and Tammy Jo.

He took another deep breath and headed up the steps to the front door. He might have an ulterior motive for showing up at Thursday supper, but Carolann had invited him, and he wanted to visit with her and Frank. If he met his daughter while here, so be it.

The thought scared the hell out of him.

What would she think of him? Could she ever understand why he had to leave? His father had demanded he give up singing after high school. He couldn’t give it up any more than he could breathing. The talent show had been his only real chance to get out of Texas and make his dreams come true.

He’d come back, but it was too late. Abby had already given his baby away. She’d already given her heart to someone else. He’d wanted to see his little girl over the years, but every time he’d gathered his courage to come home, Mike’s words burned in his mind.

What kind of father do you think you’ll be, Seth?

With the reminder of his parents’ messed up lives, he’d convinced himself Emily was better off never knowing him.

Until now.

He tucked the bottle of red wine he’d brought under his arm and gripped the handle of his guitar case tighter with a sweaty hand. According to Frank, Emily was quite a fan of his.

Something sweet and warm curled inside his heart.

When the door opened after he rang the doorbell, he expected Carolann. Instead, he met the wide green eyes of a tall, thin, auburn-haired girl who resembled a combination of Abby and his Granny Kendall too much to be a fluke.

Jesus, she was beautiful.

He rubbed his goatee and forced air through his constricting voice box to form words. “You must be...Emily?” He swallowed the lump in his throat and painted on a smile. “I’m guessing you already know who I am.”

But she didn’t know him at all. Dear God, he was this girl’s father.

She swung the door open, and the shock turned into the biggest and brightest smile he’d ever seen. The force of it hit his solar plexus like a fist.

She held out her hand. “I’m Emily Ritter. Hi.”

He looked at her hand, and a million different feelings tumbled through him–fear, joy, amazement, excitement and so many more, he couldn’t keep track. He doubted a blind man seeing a sunrise for the first time could feel this happy. Trembling, he encircled her warm fingers with his big hand.

You’re my little girl.

The baby he’d tried for fifteen years to forget about and never quite succeeded.

Her grip was soft and cool and her fingers trembled. Good, maybe she didn’t feel just how badly his shook.

When he let go, she balled her hand into a loose fist, held it over her heart and giggled. “I’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to know who you are. But that wouldn’t be an excuse in my family. Please come in, Mr. Kendall.”

Inside the foyer, he set his guitar case next to the wall and hung his hat on the hat rack by the door. Only one other hat hung on the hooks. He stared at Mike’s thousand-dollar tan Resistol, and rage boiled the bile in his belly.

He yanked his gaze from the hat and smiled at his baby. “Please call me Seth.”

She blushed and nodded. “Okay, Seth it is. Grandma’s in the kitchen. Everyone else is out back on the patio.”

He followed her down the hall to the big open kitchen. Carolann turned away from the counter where she was tossing a salad. She smiled and wiped her hands on her white apron.

“I brought red wine.” He set the bottle on the island counter. “I think it’s still chilled.”

“Thank you. Emily, why don’t you set it in the fridge for now.” She walked around the island and hugged him. He towered over her petite, five-foot frame. “I’m so glad you could make it.” When she stepped away, she glanced at Emily, who closed the refrigerator door and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her denim shorts. “I told you I had a surprise for you.”

Emily averted her eyes and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Abby used to do the same thing when she was embarrassed.

“Emily idolizes you.” Carolann smiled up at him again. “She prances around singing your songs all the time.”

“Grandma!” Emily’s eyes widened.

Carolann raised a brow. “Did I tell a lie?” She winked at him. “Of course, that isn’t as embarrassing as some of the stories I could tell about him.”

He laughed on cue, but it was strangled and forced.

Emily shook her head. “I have all of your music downloaded on my iPod. I can sing and play piano and guitar. And I talked Mom and Dad into letting me sing at the Founder’s Day picnic next month.” She blushed as red as her tank top and looked down at the floor. “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to sing some of your songs.”

His heart beat so fast and hard he feared it was going to pound right out of his chest. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except that he and Abby had created this–this person, together.

“Seth, are you all right?” Carolann’s warm touch on his arm and the concern lacing her soft southern voice drove a hole through the fog surrounding him.

He blinked. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little...I just…just thought of Dad...” he lied. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Emily wanted to sing his songs? Dear God, his chest hurt. He put his hand over his heart.

Carolann patted his arm. “I understand perfectly. It’s never easy losing someone. Even someone you didn’t think you cared a fig about.”

He nodded agreement, but it wasn’t losing his father that had him turned upside down and inside out.

The kitchen door opened. “Mom, how much longer? Dad’s getting antsy...” Mike’s words died on his lips when he walked into the kitchen. His gaze hardened and snapped to Emily.

Carolann picked up the large salad bowl, and a wide smile lit up her face. “Michael, be a dear and take this out to the patio and tell your father dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Mike made no move to take the bowl. “Emily, do as your grandmother asked. I’d like to have a minute with Seth.”

Emily’s face fell and she huffed. “But, Daddy...”

Mike raised a brow, and she reached for the bowl with all the drama only a fourteen-year-old girl could muster.

Carolann looked from Mike to Emily as she handed the bowl to her. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to bend Seth’s ears.”

Mike waited until Emily exited through the kitchen door and Carolann headed for the pantry before moving toward the hall to the living room. Seth followed him into the front room.

Mike slid the pocket door closed before turning loose the fury in his saddle-brown eyes. “What the hell are you doing, showing up here?”

Seth turned away and walked around the familiar room slowly. He, Mike and Abby had done their share of romping in here. “I’m here for dinner. Your parents invited me.”

Mike watched him with his hands fisted by his sides and his feet apart. “You should have declined.”

“And disappoint your momma? I don’t think so.” He stopped at the mantle with its display of family photos. He picked one up of Mike holding baby Emily. He was all smiles and looked every bit the proud papa.

Something in him broke. A floodgate that held back more than a decade of pain and betrayal. He returned the frame with a shaky hand. This time, the trembling wasn’t from overwhelming amazement, but barely controlled anger.

He turned and worked to keep his temper in check. “I only have one question for you.” He had to unclench his back teeth to chew out the words. “Why did you marry Abby?”

Mike moved the lace curtain to look out the front window. “I loved her.” His voice was low and as cold as a Montana wind in mid-January. “That’s more than can be said for you. You only wanted a piece of ass.” Dropping the lace, Mike turned and faced him with a sneer twisting his pretty-boy face. His eyes were as icy as his voice. “I told you that when we had this very same discussion after Emily was born, if I recall.”