Love Notes

by Savannah Kade

  He punched in the code and let himself in. Norah was nowhere to be seen but, as usual, when he followed the music, he found her. She hadn’t danced since that morning. TJ was pretty sure that it wasn’t a psychological thing. That she hadn’t lost her will to dance, she just physically wasn’t able.

  Even now she was stretching. He’d seen these stretches before. Over the summer, when she had spread her legs out, she would lean forward until her torso was flat along the floor, her cheek not just touching but resting on the floor and her hands reaching out to her ankles. Now she was leaned over, perched on her elbows—an impressive display of flexibility for anyone except Norah.

  She stood and did a short exercise, pointing her toes one way then another, holding herself in perfect form even for these simple movements. When she finished, he kicked off his shoes before knocking and pushing open the door to the dance room. “I waited until you finished your toe-pointing.”

  She grinned at him, her face less stiff, the swelling entirely gone. The bruises made her look like she’d been in a barroom brawl. “Dancers don’t point their toes. You point your whole foot. And it feels good to be able to move again, even if it isn’t entirely.”

  He walked up to her, curious how she was doing and touched the side of her cheek. Her breath sucked in.

  “Sorry. It still hurts, huh?”

  She looked at him like he was nuts. Pretty much every day, he had checked her out, to see how well she was healing. He had a lot of stake in her healing.

  She slapped his hand away, startling him.

  “Of course, it still hurts. Look at it. What’s with all the poking? You could just ask me, I do know. Norah, does it still hurt?”

  “I’m sorry.” She was right. He was being an ass. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Norah frowned at him. “I’m just frustrated. I want to do so much more than I can, and I didn’t do this to me.”

  “I know, baby.” He reached out again, but this time took his hand back. “How are the stitches they took out?” They’d both had sutures removed yesterday. His from his legs finally and her from both her legs and the long cut down her chest. Both of them had received suture strips, so it looked like little pieces of packing tape were holding the still pink gashes together.

  She held up her shirt, revealing a sport bra and a long pink line down her chest. It snaked under the bra and out again, ending just above her belly. TJ had learned not to suck in his breath every time he saw it. Again, his hand reached out to trace her wound, but he pulled it back. Of course, it hurt.

  “You?” Her voice cut into his thoughts.

  He lifted the right side of his shirt then, revealing his own gash where he’d ducked getting the knife embedded into his side. Because he didn’t have much movement there and it hadn’t been deep like her cut was, he had those sutures out several days ago. The plastic surgeons had insisted that the stitches not be pulled all at the same time. Each had to come out when it was ready, lest it mar their perfect work. For himself TJ didn’t mind a few scars. For Norah, he’d drive her back there twice a day if that was what it took to keep the marks from lingering a second longer than they had to.

  Norah’s hand came out, touching palm down on his side, covering the gash. “You’ll heal nicely.”

  The warmth of her fingers went further than just where she touched him, and TJ had to pull back. He resigned himself again to waiting.

  “So, what do you want to do today?” He’d been getting used to seeing her every day, even when he had no good excuse or plan.

  Her answer startled him. “Go to the track.”

  “What?” He didn’t think they’d ever go back there.

  “I need to. Got to get back up on the horse.”

  TJ didn’t like it, but he understood the idea of facing down your fears, he also understood that Norah could have anything from him. The I need to had clenched it this time. “Now?”

  She shrugged. “The weather’s nice.”

  “All right.” He started to lead her out, and as usual she stopped at the doorway to the studio and changed her shoes, while he stepped into his own.

  She threw on a jacket and followed him out to the car, letting him drive most everywhere, as he had healed faster than she. The blood was gone from the car seats, at a pretty penny and they were a slightly paler shade of gray but Norah didn’t have to look at it. They were silent until TJ parked square in front of the steps and turned to her. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  Both of them were out of the car in a minute, neither dressed for running, and they met around the front of the hood at the very top of the stairs.

  Cold flooded him. It gripped and didn’t let go. His breathing faltered and his right hand waved wildly for hers until she grasped it in her own. Lacing his fingers through hers, TJ fought to regain some composure. He hadn’t expected this. He’d thought he was here to support Norah. But so many times he’d found that when he expected that, he was wrong.

  “What?” Her voice and her eyes were seeking him out.

  “I was standing here, having seen your car, and wondering where you’d gone, when I saw that flash of light in the trees. All I knew was you were there and you were in trouble, and I ran. I went over the fence. I have never moved like that.”

  In a moment, the nausea passed and he was able to breathe again, but wondered what else was in store for him here.

  Norah hadn’t moved. “You weren’t being nice. You have nightmares, too.”

  She was only just now figuring that out?

  He nodded.

  Slowly they descended the steps. Hand in hand they walked one loop. Norah found a dark spot on the far side, and was convinced it was her own blood, still there. She shuddered and eventually stood upright. “He lapped me.”

  “What?”

  “He ran past me. The first time I tensed up, thinking I don’t know this man who’s running up behind me. But he did it several times. He waved once. He made me comfortable that he wasn’t going to do anything, that he was just jogging. So when the footsteps came up right behind me I didn’t think anything of it until it was too late.”

  “I wondered.” He squeezed her hand. “I wondered how anyone caught you off guard.”

  “I was in my own head, not paying attention.” She shook her head, like she might just shake away the memory like rainwater. “I’m just glad it was me, and not some high school girl. Or Kelsey with the baby.”

  That turned his stomach again. “I will never be glad that it was you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can we please get out of here? You are far braver than I.” He tugged at her hand and obligingly she followed along.

  Chapter 52

  TJ called her each day he was in New York. They would be gone almost six whole days. He figured that his wanting to call her was a good sign. Both his brother and Craig called their wives every day, no matter what, when they were on the road. Alex was only making periodic check-ins. It seemed the baby yelled all the time. Not cried, yelled. He didn’t call home much.

  They had been busy every waking moment, each day doing interviews with different radio stations. They went to see the stage that had been finished just prior to their arrival. The rotating platform limited their staging space, but allowed for the bands to switch out quickly, a necessity with so many groups performing. Wilder rehearsed Bohemian Rhapsody with all the musicians who’d made it into town early. They picked up another song, from a group that had bowed out.

  TJ didn’t understand, which is what he told Norah. “I’ve got it. I mean It that I was looking for.”

  He could hear her smile. “So what is this elusive ‘it’?”

  “I would have performed this from the chair. It’s not about the show, it’s about me. Which is actually less selfish than it sounds.”

  “Go on.”

  “I used to do it for what I got out of it. I’m doing the work some justice now. It’s actually art.” His fingers went into his hai
r, and he sighed. “I’m preaching to the choir, aren’t I? I’m just slow.”

  She laughed. “I did it because for a while it was the only thing that gave me joy. So, how’s this going to play out in the concert?”

  “It’s funny. We’re opening with Don’t Stop Me Now. I don’t know if you remember it. I didn’t try it out on you because it came so easy. I finally realize why. Will you be watching?”

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll see.”

  The next day he told her that all that guitar work he’d done had been a waste. JD decided that TJ needed to be on piano and himself on guitar, as it put the best man on each instrument. It meant they had to rehearse the hell out of that, too.

  He’d called her from back stage, right before they went live. In the background, another group was finishing up Crazy Little Thing Called Love. But TJ had been talking through his nerves with her. He hung up right before they went out, biting back the I love you that he wanted to add, sticking to his resolve to wait until she healed.

  Positioning themselves back stage, they rotated out with the platform while the lights were black. If he hadn’t been so keyed up he would have felt silly.

  When the lights blared in his face, for a brief instant he could see people. They flowed out in every direction, literally hundreds of thousands, and millions more watching live on TV. In that same moment, he heard the first note from JD’s guitar and he opened his mouth, pushing out the first air and sound. For the first time in his life he had real fun on stage.

  There was almost nothing as fun as Queen. He was heaving for breath when he finished the song, his black t-shirt chosen because it didn’t show how hard he was working. That didn’t matter, because he still had to hold up his first finger to the audience asking them for a minute while he caught his breath.

  He’d never done that before. He’d always saved air, believing that the crap he spewed in between the songs was as important as the singing. “I need to know which of you ladies out there has a big backyard.” He grinned at the screams and catcalls. “That’s what I thought. This is your song.”

  JD was laughing at him, and they couldn’t start. The start was vocal only, all four of them. It took TJ fingering counts for one-two-three to get the two brothers calmed enough to launch. Fat Bottomed Girls got as much applause as the first piece.

  Hearing them there on stage, TJ agreed with Brenda. They’d been invited and gotten some prime pieces because the four of them had the vocal chops to pull off these numbers.

  He didn’t speak before launching into their final group song. What would he have said? This one’s for Norah? But it was. Somebody To Love came out hopeful and pleading and as strong as he was feeling it.

  He knew if he performed it again it would be different, each time it would be. These people got Norah’s version. So be it.

  He called her after the show, too. He was exhausted and due at press events and wasn’t going to make it without hearing her voice. “So?”

  “Wow.”

  “Tell me what you saw.” He braced himself against a wall, wondering what she might say, and knowing that no matter what it was he needed to hear it.

  “You used to be good. You put on a great show and you were fun to watch. But this was . . . I don’t think anyone could have looked anywhere else. You were suddenly just a singer, who happened to be insanely charismatic. You were right, you enjoyed it.”

  He let out his breath, but she wasn’t finished with him.

  “I was even more impressed that you happily faded into the background when the lead came out.” He winced. But she was right. Previously he would have drawn attention to himself, played up whatever he’d been given.

  “Thank you. That was exactly what I needed to hear. How are you doing?”

  “Much better.” The sound smiled at him, “I’m drug free, and I did some real dancing today.”

  He wanted to talk more, but he was getting tugged into a fray of reporters. Norah heard it through the phone and told him she’d talk to him tomorrow.

  He didn’t tell her she’d see him tomorrow.

  Norah replayed the Central Park Queen concert enough times to have it memorized. She was pretty certain her Dad knew what she was doing, though he didn’t comment.

  He came home late that night and said, “Weren’t the Hewlitts on TV tonight?”

  She’d said yes, and clicked on the already-cued program. Her father was no dunce, he had to have figured that she’d already watched it several times. But all he said was, “Wow, he’s really good.”

  Norah didn’t add, He’s even better than he used to be.

  Mr. Davidson had pulled himself off the couch and gone to bed, but Norah had watched a few more times. TJ was right: Don’t Stop Me Now was his song. TJ was a ‘shooting star leaping to the sky’ as the words went. He wasn’t playing it anymore, he clearly felt it. Norah chuckled to herself as TJ sang that he was supersonic. Truly he was.

  Eventually she shut off the TV and pulled herself up to bed.

  She was sleeping better these days, but it wasn’t working. Tossing and turning, she was torn between wanting to throw herself at him when he returned and wondering how many groupies he’d screwed while he was out there. She was no fool—just because he was a new man didn’t mean he was a celibate one.

  Finally sleep found her, but left her facing this day with less than a full tank. She put in some hours at the studio, saying she’d be back on Monday at full steam. She danced off some nerves and considered again throwing herself at TJ.

  Being Saturday it was sad her only plans were to sit on her couch and wait for TJ to call. Which was worse than no plans at all, she told herself. Still there she was, cell phone in hand, watching the same patch of recording and trying to convince herself to go for a ride or do something useful when a knock came at the door.

  Startled, Norah turned off the show, removing the evidence, when she realized her Dad would never knock. When she pulled open the door her heart flipped over. TJ stood on the other side of the screen, dark hair falling precariously over his eyes, his leather jacket and jeans leaving him with that same disreputable look he’d always had.

  Chapter 53

  Norah launched herself at TJ, pulling back just in time to keep it on the friendly side, reminding herself: groupies. “You’re back!”

  “Yup.”

  “Come in.” She stepped back out of the way, feeling weird inviting him in when he so easily belonged. “Are you headed home to go to sleep?”

  “Nope. I slept on the plane. Want to do something?”

  She couldn’t hide the smile. There were a million answers to his question, but she said, “I was thinking of going riding before it gets dark.”

  “Yeah? Can I come?”

  “Of course.” Just like that, she was sliding into her jacket and leading TJ out to the barn. TJ saddled her tall mahogany horse himself, and they were seated side by side before he spoke again. “You look all healed up if you’re riding.”

  She nodded. “You, too.”

  “Being on stage took the last of the kinks out.”

  “You were amazing.” Kicking her heels, she started Thunder heading up the ridge.

  But TJ didn’t follow. He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped when Shenandoah sidestepped. He frowned and tried again to follow, but Norah’s usually obedient horse didn’t listen.

  She looked him up and down, unsure what was wrong. The horse wouldn’t obey a single command that TJ gave him, and worse, Shenandoah looked nervous. TJ shook his head and pushed forward tugging at the reigns.

  “TJ, what did you do to my horse?”

  “Nothing. What’s wrong with your horse?”

  Just then Shenandoah lurched a little forward, just one small leap, and TJ’s right hand waved at the front of the saddle finding nothing but air until he eventually gripped the front.

  “Oh my God.” Norah reached out, “hand me the reins and get down.”

  “What?”
He looked puzzled, which was a pretty calm expression for a man on a big horse that had just given him a warning buck.

  “Get off. You can’t ride.”

  “I ride fine.” He protested even as he stood in the stirrups and swung his leg over. She noted that he moved easily, without favoring his injuries.

  “You ride Western. These guys are trained English.”

  “There’s that much of a difference?”

  She shrugged “I wouldn’t have thought so, but Shenandoah doesn’t like it.”

  He sighed and held his hands out for the reins. “I’m getting back up, tell me what to do.”

  She showed him the grip and how small finger movements guided the horse. Tried to push his foot into the proper position. To his credit he tried it before he protested. “How is it that you ride English, Norah? You’re from Texas, that just isn’t right.”

  “My grandfather was a Virginia gentleman. I ride English.”

  “Well, I’m not riding.” He dismounted and began to unsaddle the horse.

  Norah felt her stomach clench; she wanted to do something silly and romantic with him even if he didn’t know it. She wanted to watch the sunset from the ridge.

  Then she remembered. “Oh, oh, oh. Don’t take off his bridle. We’ll both ride him.”

  She had the perfect solution. Shenandoah, being the larger horse, would bear both their weight better than Thunder would. But she knew there was no good outcome if she just slid up in front of him. If he didn’t get turned on, she’d probably burst into tears and flee, leaving the man on a horse that would likely buck him in a minute. If TJ did get turned on, she’d never know if it was from anything other than having her rub her ass against him for the ride.

  She pulled the tack off Thunder and set him free, before leading TJ into the storage area. “There.” She pointed at, then hauled out, the huge antique saddle.

  Seeing her struggling under the weight, he lifted it easily from her hands and put her puny strength to shame by turning it one way then another to see the leather working on it. “Holy shit. A double saddle.”