But she had handled that time on her own, too. It had proved once and for all that she could cope with any curves life tossed her way, reassuring her that she would always be in control of her own destiny.
It was ironic, she supposed. She had proved to herself that she needed no one to survive, even to thrive, but rather than feeling triumphant, all she could think about these days was how very lonely she had been before Harlan Patrick had reappeared in that Montana nightclub.
Twelve
The barbecue was pure torment. Harlan Patrick retreated to the paddock with a cigarette he’d bummed from Slade. To his surprise the hand had been coaxed into joining the family—apparently by the very woman he’d protested vehemently that he wanted nowhere near him. Val had been looking especially pleased with herself all evening. Harlan Patrick was glad somebody’s romance looked promising.
He hitched himself up on the split-rail fence and tried not to light the cigarette or to think about Laurie. The last time he’d seen her she’d been telling stories about the country music business and the sometimes overzealous fans. She’d looked so alive, almost as alive as she’d been in his arms down by the creek that afternoon.
How could he even think about asking her to give up something that obviously brought her so much joy? How could he compete at all with the adulation of millions of fans? He was just one cowboy out of thousands who fantasized about her.
As he sat on the railing, he heard someone begin to strum a guitar. It might even have been his father, who professed to have musical talents, but sure as heck couldn’t carry a tune. Harlan Patrick’s heart clenched in anticipation. He knew it wouldn’t take long once the music started for someone to coax Laurie into singing.
Sure enough, that low, sexy voice of hers caught on a breeze and carried to where he sat. It was a new song, one he hadn’t heard before, and it was gut-wrenching, another surefire hit. Despite his instincts for self-preservation, he tossed aside the still unlit cigarette in disgust and began moving back toward the patio where everyone was gathered.
A security floodlight at the end of the patio bathed Laurie in a silvery glow as flattering as any spotlight. She had the guitar now, and her eyes were closed as she sang about lost love and past mistakes. Harlan Patrick had the feeling she was singing about the two of them, which made it all the harder to bear when the lovers in the song parted one last time.
As the last notes died, he was drawn to her side.
“That was beautiful,” he said in a quiet voice not meant to be heard over the family’s enthusiastic applause and catcalls. “A new song?”
Her gaze met his, and the rest of the crowd seemed to disappear.
“I’ve been working on it for a while now.”
“That ending’s a real tearjerker.”
She shot him a knowing look. “It’s the way it had to be.”
His heart seemed to slow to a stop. “Then you don’t see any way to change it?”
“Not offhand. Do you?”
He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
She glanced around. “There’s no music.”
“I can fix that. Come with me.” When she hesitated, he grinned. “Dare you.”
Her eyes sparkled with a hundred shared memories of the mischief those two words had gotten them into. After another moment’s hesitation, she slipped her hand trustingly into his and went with him. He picked one of her CDs from a whole stack inside and slid it into the player, then turned the volume down low. This was for the two of them and no one else.
“We’re not going back outside?” she asked.
“Scared to be alone with me, Laurie?”
“Of course not.”
He tugged her gently into his arms. “Good. ’Cause I want you all to myself right now. Just you and me and this music that’s so all-fired important to you.”
She started to pull away, but he held her close. “That wasn’t a put-down.”
“It sounded like one.”
“You know me, darlin’—sometimes I’m not as good with words as you are.”
“Oh, please,” she retorted impatiently. “Nobody in Texas is better at a turn of phrase than you, Harlan Patrick. That’s why women fall all over themselves chasing after you.”
“Maybe I should try my hand at writing songs, then,” he suggested in jest.
She regarded him evenly, clearly taking the idea far more seriously than he’d intended. “Maybe you should.”
“I’d be lousy at it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’d be writing them with happy endings.”
She sighed and rested her head against his chest. “You’re right. You are the ultimate romantic.”
He was amused by the wistful note in her voice. “Why is it that I have to fall for the only woman on earth who’d consider that a bad thing?”
“It’s not a bad thing. It’s just not very practical, especially in my line of work. Nothing sells better than a good ol’ song about love gone wrong.”
He pulled back and regarded her curiously. “Is that why you’re so dead set on keeping us apart? Are you afraid if you and I have a happy ending, you’ll lose your touch?”
She stared at him, clearly shocked by the suggestion. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not turning myself inside out just so I can be inspired to write another song with a sad ending. People write about all sorts of things without having to live them. A decent mystery writer doesn’t have to gun somebody down to write about it.”
“You sound a little defensive. Are you so sure you’re not just the teensiest bit worried that loving me will ruin your way with a lovesick turn of phrase?” he asked, because the more he thought about it, the more sense it made to him. “You’re afraid to be happy, Laurie. You think that well of misery that you draw on for your music will dry up if you’re not careful.”
“That is the most absurd notion you’ve ever expressed, Harlan Patrick. I don’t want to be miserable. I don’t want to make you miserable.”
“Then do something to change it. Take a chance on us, Laurie. Come back here after your tour. If you won’t marry me, live with me for a while. See what kind of balancing act we can come up with.”
“No,” she said practically before the words were out of his mouth.
Pulse pounding with fury, he backed away from her. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t have to think about it. I will not bring Amy Lynn to live here with you. It’ll only confuse her when it’s time for us to go.”
He slammed a fist into the wall, scraping his knuckles. “Dammit, you won’t even try, will you? I don’t even matter that much to you.”
“You do matter,” she insisted. “But—”
“But what?”
“You’ll overwhelm me, Harlan Patrick. If I do as you ask, it will be too easy to settle in and stay.”
“What the hell is wrong with that?”
“You know what’s wrong with it,” she insisted, tears streaming. “I’ve told you. You just haven’t been listening, as usual.”
“Because of your father?” he asked incredulously. “This is all because of a man who left you when you were four?”
“Yes,” she said, regarding him defiantly. “Because the first man I loved, the one who was supposed to love me forever, walked out and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”
He could hear the anguish in her voice and knew that her reasoning made perfect sense to her, even if it made next to none to him. He cupped her tear-streaked face in his hands.
“Sweetheart, I am nothing like your father. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever. We’ve been apart for years now, yet I’m still right here, waiting. Doesn’t that prove anything at all to you?”
“That you’re stubborn mostly,” she said with a rueful expression. “You can’t guarantee fe
elings. I could drive you away. I wouldn’t mean to, but it could happen.”
Finally he began to understand the real cause of her anguish. “Is that what you think happened with your dad? You think your mother did something to drive him away?”
“That must have been it.”
He regarded her incredulously. “This is something that’s so important to you that you’re shutting me out because of it and you’ve never asked your mother what really happened?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. I could see how she was hurting. She never mentioned him again, so neither did I.”
“Then I think it’s time you did.”
“No. I can’t.”
“What are you really afraid of?” he asked, startled to think of the brave, adventurous woman who’d once taken any dare being scared of anything. He studied her intently, saw the shadows in her eyes and realized suddenly what it was. It was the nightmare of every child of divorced parents. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?
“You’re afraid it was something you did that made him go, aren’t you?” he asked quietly but insistently.
“Of course not. I was a kid, a baby, practically.”
“That’s right. You were a kid, and whatever happened was between grown-ups,” he reminded her. “Laurie, you have to talk to your mom. Until you know for sure, until you lay that to rest, you will never let any man into your life. Do you want to spend the rest of your life alone?”
“I’m not alone,” she said with a defiant thrust of her chin. “I have Amy Lynn and Val and the band. I’m surrounded by people.”
“You can’t make Amy Lynn your entire world,” he argued. “It’s too big a burden to put on a little girl. As for the others, there are no guarantees they’ll stay, either.”
“They will,” she insisted.
Rather than arguing with her about the uncertainty of the future, he settled for forcing her to take a long hard look at the present. “Are they there when you get scared in the middle of the night? Can they keep you warm when it’s cold? Can they kiss away your tears?”
He saw her struggling with the truth.
“No,” she admitted finally, “but—”
“You deserve more, Laurie. You deserve someone who’ll be there, someone who knows you inside and out, someone who’s not just drawing a paycheck.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “I know they care about you, but it’s not the same.” He gazed into her eyes. “Is it?”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “No,” she conceded, her expression bleak. “It’s not. But it’s all I have.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Yes, it does,” she insisted. “I can’t risk any more.”
He knew then that he was losing her all over again. “Talk to your mother,” he pleaded again. “Please, Laurie. For us. For Amy Lynn. Find out what happened all those years ago.”
* * *
Laurie was silent all the way back into town, struggling with herself. A part of her knew that Harlan Patrick was right. Her whole future, whether with him or someone else, rested on finding out the truth about what had happened all those years ago. She’d been hiding from the need to do it for years now, pretending that the long-ago hurt wasn’t affecting every choice she made.
In fact, she had to wonder if her father wasn’t the real reason she had remained so stubbornly determined to spend her life on the road, cramming in concert appearances in tiny, out-of-the-way places, hoping that one day she would glimpse a familiar face in the crowd. Even as the thought occurred to her, she knew that she had finally grasped something that had been eluding her for years.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured.
Three startled faces turned to her in the car.
“What?” Harlan Patrick asked.
“Nothing,” she said at once.
“Laurie, is everything okay?” her mother asked from the back seat.
She glanced over her shoulder and forced a smile for her mother and for an equally concerned Val. “Fine. I just remembered something, that’s all.”
Her gaze came to rest on her sleeping daughter, buckled securely into her car seat. Would Amy Lynn grow up with the same terrible insecurities if Laurie kept Harlan Patrick out of her life? Was she dooming her precious baby to the same sort of future she faced?
Never! She resolved then and there to begin looking for answers and she would start first thing in the morning, before she left for Ohio. As soon as she’d made the decision, she felt better, more at peace than she had in years. And she owed it to Harlan Patrick and his persistent refusal to take no for an answer. He had prodded her into heavy-duty soul-searching.
When they got to the house, she let the others go inside, lingering beside him in the car.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“For forcing me to face the past.”
“Have you really done that?”
She shrugged. “Not exactly, but I’m getting there. I’m going to have that long-overdue talk with my mom in the morning. You could do me a huge favor if you’d come and take Amy Lynn and Val out for breakfast.”
“Gladly. I’ll take ’em over to Dolan’s. Sharon Lynn will love introducing another Adams to her cooking. The rest of us are proof that you can survive it.”
“You know perfectly well she makes the best hotcakes around.”
“When her mind’s on it,” he agreed with a grin. “Lately, with little Ashley getting ready for preschool, she’s been listening to her biological clock ticking and she tends to get a little distracted. With Amy Lynn there for her to fuss over, I’m liable to have to do the cooking myself.”
“I’ll warn Val,” she promised.
He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her head to face him. “I’m glad you’re going to do this.”
“I just pray I won’t regret it.”
“You should never regret asking for the truth. It’s living with lies and secrets and guesswork that’ll do you in.”
“I suppose so.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Sure you don’t want me to be here when you talk to your mom?”
“No. I have to do this on my own.” She rested her palm against his cheek. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”
He smiled. “Every now and again, but I never tire of hearing it. That’s what keeps me hanging in here.”
“I wish things weren’t so complicated.”
“Hey, darlin’, what would be the challenge in that? Life’s full of complications. Surviving them is what makes a person stronger.”
“Then I guess I’ve done my bit to see that you’re as tough as Hercules.”
He winked at her. “Want to feel my muscles?”
“You wish. Don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish, cowboy.”
“Oh, I am always prepared when I’m around you.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, then lingered.
Laurie felt the slow rise of heat in her blood, the tug of desire building low in her belly. It took so little for her to want him, so little to set her heart to racing. She backed away and drew in a deep breath.
“Hold that thought,” she pleaded.
“Forever, if I have to.”
“Not that long,” she promised, then slid out of the car. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bright and early,” he agreed. “Sleep tight, darlin’, and dream of me.”
He was already pulling away when she whispered, “I always do.”
* * *
Dreaming of Harlan Patrick was what would give her the courage to confront her mother in the morning. Imagining that confrontation was what kept her awake most of the night. She was already in the kitchen with the coffee going when Val wandered down at the crack of dawn.
“Coffee
?” she murmured, yawning.
Laurie poured her a mug. “Would you do me a favor this morning?”
“Sure, anything.”
“When Harlan Patrick comes by in a little while, will you take the baby and go out to breakfast with him? I need to have a talk with my mom.”
“Of course,” Val said, then studied her worriedly. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be,” Laurie said grimly. “It has to be.”
Val reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’ll go get ready now. The baby should be awake, too. We’ll be all set when Harlan Patrick gets here.”
“Thanks. And thanks for not asking a lot of questions.”
“You’ll tell me what you can, when you can. Until then, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Alone again, Laurie sipped her second cup of coffee and tried to find the words she would need to ask her mother about what had happened all those years ago. She couldn’t just blurt it out, not after all these years of polite silence. She had no idea what her mother’s reaction would be. She’d been devastated back then, unable to hide the sorrow that had left deep shadows under her eyes and wiped the color from her cheeks.
Fortunately Harlan Patrick arrived and spirited Val and Amy Lynn away before her mother came downstairs.
“You here all alone?” she asked Laurie with evident surprise when she wandered into the kitchen just after eight. “I thought I heard Val and the baby stirring.”
“Harlan Patrick took them to Dolan’s to breakfast.”
Her mother regarded her worriedly. “And you didn’t want to go along? You and Harlan Patrick haven’t fought again, have you?”
“No. I just wanted some time alone with you. Can I fix you something to eat?”
“Absolutely not. You stay where you are. I’ll just have some cereal.”
She poured cornflakes into a bowl as she had practically every day of her life that Laurie could remember. She added milk and sat down opposite Laurie. She stirred the cereal in the bowl, but didn’t take a bite. Finally she lifted her gaze to clash with Laurie’s.
“Okay, girl, what’s on your mind? You didn’t chase everybody out of here just so you and I could catch up, did you?”
West Texas Nights Page 15
