“You fell in love with her.” Seth leaned back into his chair and let out his breath.
“Yeah, well, she never felt the same as I did. I should have known better.” Gabe finished off his whiskey and went to the bar to get more. He returned with the bottle of Jack Daniels and sat down. “But my fucked up marriage isn’t why I called you.”
Seth watched him. “You said you wanted to pick my brain. I thought you wanted some songwriting help, but I figured out the moment you opened the door that probably wasn’t why you called. Out with it.”
Gabe swallowed some more of the smooth whiskey, letting its heat melt his trepidation away. Was he afraid that little girl might be his or that she might not be? “That stripper I screwed in Las Vegas, Lydia Greenhow, showed up here this morning with a seven-month-old baby girl she is claiming belongs to me.”
Seth widened his eyes and let out a whistle between his teeth. “Holy shit.”
Gabe let out a chuckle. “Yep.”
“Is that why Micki left?”
Gabe wasn’t sure if he even understood why she’d left. “In a way. She was mad because, when Lydia showed up here, I didn’t believe her. Damn it, Seth, I don’t want to believe her. The whole time all I could think of is how this will screw up my chances to get Jesse away from Lemont Finn. I said some things that probably made me sound like a pure heartless bastard. I told her I wanted the kid tested, and if she turned out to be mine, I wanted her to sign the baby over to me. In exchange, I’d pay her off. Which only made me madder because the bitch agreed to those terms without blinking an eyelid. In fact, she demanded more money.”
He remembered Michaela’s question and signed. “I think Micki thought I would have done the same thing to her if she hadn’t lost our baby before our breakup. But she’s different than Lydia. Michaela would never have given up her baby for money.”
“You were in shock. I know, when I got the news I was going to be a father the first time, I was in denial. It was the last thing I wanted.” Seth set his glass on the coffee table, which Gabe noticed was still full; then his friend leaned over his legs and folded his hands. “Getting the news that you’re a father or gonna be one isn’t easy. It’s a hell of a responsibility, but if I could have done things differently, I would have.”
“Leaving Abby was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and the stupidest.” With a wince as if the memories still caused him pain, Seth looked up at him. “I wasted fourteen years that I’ll never get back with my daughter. While I was off getting rich and famous, she was being raised by a sadistic bastard. Now she’s her own person. I’ve always loved her, but not knowing her as a little kid still hurts.”
Seth shook his head of curling strawberry-blond hair. “The only advice I can give you is to fight for that baby if she turns out to be yours. But you can’t exclude Lydia from her life. To do that would be the same thing Abby and her ex did to me.”
Gabe knew in his heart Seth was right, but he didn’t want to be tied to an immoral stripper for the rest of his life. What kind of strain would that put on his and Michaela’s marriage? Hell, did they even have a chance at a future? Then an even more terrifying thought occurred to him: If their marriage did fall apart, he’d already agreed she’d keep Jesse, but who would help him care for his daughter? Lydia? God, he hoped not.
He pictured the dark-haired, brown-eyed baby and tried to feel a connection, to see some semblance of recognition. But he saw none. The little girl didn’t look much like Lydia, but he sure as hell couldn’t see himself in her either.
Gabe emptied his glass and asked the question for which he’d called his friend. “Wouldn’t I know if the kid was mine? I mean, shouldn’t I be able to recognize some part of me in her?”
Seth took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “That’s a tough question. I don’t know. I’ve always known Emily was my daughter, so when I met her for the first time…” He paused and shrugged as if remembering, his eyes taking on a faraway glaze as he stared toward the coffee table. “She answered the door and smiled. I still get chills when I remember the first time I laid eyes on my little girl.”
Gabe smiled at the emotion his friend conjured but lost the smile as he thought of his reaction this morning. If the baby did turn out to be his, how would he ever live with his memories of how he treated her?
“Yes, I instantly recognized her as my daughter, but I was also expecting to see her that afternoon.” Seth quirked his lips up into a one-sided grin. “Who knows if I would’ve recognized her if she’d shown up on my doorstep and I hadn’t known she even existed. I’d like to think I would have, but…” He shrugged, picked up the glass of whiskey he’d sat on the table, and drained it. “I can’t say that I would have.”
Chapter 16
“What the hell do you mean the lab lost the samples?” Gabe gripped his iPhone so tight his hand hurt. “I paid you to get those results rushed through.”
His doctor sputtered on the other line. “I’m sorry, Gabe. These things happen. I’ll have to take another sample from you and the baby, and I’ll take responsibility for the tests.”
Gabe stared out the French doors at the cold November morning sun reflecting off the glass-topped table setting on the patio by the pool. “Fine. I’ll call Reese to get in touch with Miss Greenhow.”
He hung up the phone and it instantly started vibrating again. As soon as the call connected, Michaela’s worried voice sounded in his ear. “Have you seen the latest report on TMZ?”
“No.” The doorbell rang, and dread caused his heart to sink. He headed for the front door while he told her about the lost DNA samples.
“That’s the least of our worries. TMZ is reporting the news that you have a daughter and that you don’t want her.”
“Fuck!” Gabe stabbed the fingers of his free hand into his hair and fisted it. “When did the report come out?”
“I don’t know. This morning, maybe.” Micki’s voice quivered, and she cleared it. “I think it would be best if I distance myself from you. I don’t want this to hurt my chances to get Jesse.”
Fear of a different sort coursed through him, causing his heart to clench. “What are you saying?”
“I’m contacting a lawyer from Dallas who might be able to help me get Jesse.”
He sighed as the person on the other side of the door gave up ringing the doorbell and resorted to pounding and shouting. Gary. He should have known if Michaela had seen the report, so had his manager. Gabe’s heart shattered. Maybe Michaela did have a better chance of getting Jesse on her own now. “What’s the lawyer’s name?”
She was silent for so long, he thought she’d hung up. When she spoke, her voice sounded watery, and for a moment, he wondered if she was fighting back tears. “Lance Cartwright. He’s my second cousin, so I thought he’d be willing to help. I got the idea after seeing our mutual cousin at the CMAs.”
Logan Cartwright hadn’t always been a singer. His first profession had been being a successful divorce lawyer in a law partnership with his first cousin. How long had she been planning to leave him? Gabe closed his eyes and rode out the searing burn in his chest. He’d been a fool to fall in love with her again. “He’s as good--if not better than--Reese. Whatever you want, I’ll agree to. Our prenup gives you the ranch and money to take care of things. Maybe--” He had to swallow the sudden bitter lump in his throat. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
He hung up the call and opened his door. To his surprise, Gary wasn’t the only one on his doorstep.
A grim Reese stood beside his furious manager. “We have a problem. Lydia Greenhow checked out of her hotel this morning and vanished.”
* * * *
The morning after the news broke, Micki told her mother about her plan to contact their cousin’s law firm in Dallas. Feeling as if her entire world was exploding around her, she sat on the couch in the family room where she’d found her mother watching TV and looked down at her folded hands in her lap. “I thi
nk filing for divorce would be my best option. I need to distance myself from this mess of Gabe’s before I’m dragged in.”
Momma narrowed her eyes on her when she finished her plan. “And you think filing for divorce two weeks after getting married will make this all go away?” She didn’t give Micki a chance to respond. “You can’t run from this, Micki. In fact, you should be doing the complete opposite. You and Gabe need to present a united front. You said you married Gabe for Jesse, but if you leave him now, how do you think that will make you look in the eyes of the judge?”
Micki swallowed and closed her eyes. “I don’t know. But what chance do I have to get him if Gabe is entangled in this mess with that stripper?”
“Damn it, Michaela Jo!”
Her mother’s use of her full name had Micki looking up at her with surprise. Momma hadn’t called her by that name since she was a little girl.
“You’re a fool if you think I don’t know what you’re really doing.” Momma rolled her wheelchair closer to the couch and rested her arthritic hands on top of Micki’s. “Micki, I know you love him. You’re afraid he’ll leave you again. But what if he doesn’t? I heard that song he sang to you at the award show. God, girl, the man has it so damn bad for you it made my heart ache.” She gently squeezed Micki’s hands and sat back in her wheelchair with a wince. But whether it came from her disease or from the memory, Micki didn’t know. “If your father had loved me half as much as Gabe McKenna does you, I--I…”
When a tear slid down Momma’s cheek, Micki took her mother’s hands and shook her head. She hated the pain her father’s betrayal still caused her mother. “Shhh… I won’t call Lance. You’re probably right. Filing for divorce would be a stupid move.”
But how could she stand with Gabe? He was bound to break her heart like her father had her mother’s. After all, he hadn’t discouraged her when she brought up getting divorced yesterday. Could she stay and risk even more of her heart?
* * * *
Micki stared out the master bedroom window. The day dawned cold and breezy, but the bright sun belied the weather forecast of rainstorms later that day. She prayed for torrential downpours. Maybe then the cars and vans parked along the county road outside the front gate would go away--at least for a little while
Ten days of hell.
That was the prison she and her mother found themselves in. Sure, they were living in the ranch house and had plenty of food and comfort, but outside the front gate was a horde of reporters and paparazzi. Not all of them were tabloid hacks either; a few of them were from the local TV stations, which justified prying into their private lives as local special interest stories.
Gabe was still in Nashville where he dealt with the brunt of the reporters. Every time she booted up the Internet, his face flashed on the screen in some story posted by the tabloids on the newsfeed of her search engine. Some of the reports even speculated that they were splitting up. In another story, her mother’s illness and the scheduled surgery were mentioned as the causes of her coming abruptly back to Texas following the CMA awards.
Gabe had hired a private investigator to find the stripper, but so far he was coming up with nothing.
She turned away from the bedroom window and headed downstairs. As she walked into the kitchen, Florencia Hernandez was watching the small TV sitting in the corner of the counter while she made breakfast for them. The tall, middle-aged Hispanic woman Gabe had hired to be the family’s housekeeper was also a registered nurse, whom Micki discovered had worked in a Dallas hospice until burnout forced her to change careers about five years ago. Her husband had died a year ago, leaving her with two kids in college. Micki liked the quiet, unassuming woman, who spoke flawless English and preferred to go by the nickname Flo.
As Micki slid onto a barstool at the breakfast island, she took one of Flo’s whole grain blueberry muffins from a plate. She picked a piece off the golden brown top and popped it into her mouth. Her stomach churned as if it were going to eat itself.
On the TV, a pretty blond special interest reporter from one of the local stations stood in front of the gate of the Lazy M. In the distant background, the white two-story house stood surrounded by trees and pastures enclosed with white rail fencing. The wind picked up and the trees and winter grass in the fields swayed behind the reporter. If the house wasn’t the one she was currently living in, she may not have recognized it.
The wind tossed the reporter’s hair into her face. “The drama coming from the latest scandal involving country superstar Gabe McKenna is heating up.” Micki’s heart skipped a beat as the reporter’s face flashed away and a photo of Gabe and her from the red carpet at the CMAs popped onto the screen. “A source within the McKenna camp reported that his new bride was devastated by the news that Gabe and Las Vegas stripper Lydia Greenhow have a daughter together. The newlyweds have separated.” Another picture flashed on screen; this one was from over a year and half ago and featured a candid shot of Gabe with Lydia at a Las Vegas club. Micki swallowed against the bile rising into her throat at thought of Gabe and the stripper together. “The source also told us Lydia is in hiding out of fear of Gabe, who threatened to take her baby away and bribed her with a monetary payout if she signed custody papers giving the seven-month-old to the country star. We were able to verify this report from public documents filed at Davidson County Tennessee on November tenth.”
Micki had enough and got up to leave the kitchen, but the reporter’s next words stopped her. “As we reported before, Gabe and his wife are in the middle of a strange custody battle with her estranged father, Texas billionaire Lemont Finn, over Gabe’s ten-year-old brother, who is also Michaela McKenna’s nephew.” The reporter smiled and brushed her long, wind-blown hair out of her face. “Confused yet? I know we are as today we got information that Michaela Finn McKenna may not be who she says she is. A source in the Lemont Finn camp has brought to our attention that the businessman is again raising the question about his daughter’s paternity. The first time was twenty-eight years ago when he filed for divorce from former barrel racing champion Loretta Cartwright Finn. It is yet unclear what Mr. Finn wishes to achieve from this most recent accusation since the man Loretta Finn had been accused of having an affair with died over eight years ago.”
Flo violently whipped pancake batter and shook her head. “I can’t believe they won’t let you and your mother alone.”
The queasy feeling amplified, turning the muffin in her stomach to stone, and the bile rose a little farther into her throat. Damn, what did those old rumors have to do with anything? None of them were even true. Her mother had never cheated on her father. On the screen, an old photograph of Momma from her mother’s barrel racing days and the rodeo cowboy her father had accused her of sleeping with replaced the reporter’s face. In the faded picture, Loretta smiled up at bull rider Jock Blackwell, a much older man she’d known from her hometown of Colton, Texas, as she presented him with a huge buckle at some rodeo.
“Why are they dragging my acquaintance with Jock Blackwell into this mess?” At her mother’s pained voice, Micki turned away from the TV. She’d been so engrossed in the report she hadn’t heard Momma coming into the kitchen. Momma stopped her motorized wheelchair by the edge of the island and fisted her hands in her lap. “The man is dead and gone.”
Micki was wondering the same thing when a thought came to her. “Momma. I think Lemont is worried.” She slid off the barstool and bent to kiss her mother’s forehead. “I think it’s time Gabe and I share a holiday together.”
Momma had been right. If they wanted to show the world their relationship was strong and could weather any storm, the last thing they needed was to be apart right now. She needed Gabe to come home.
Lemont was worried about something. Early in this mess with Lydia and the baby, the source from his camp had released to the tabloids his belief that Micki and Gabe had married solely for the hope of their union persuading the judge to give them custody. Micki had felt the
blood leave her face when she’d read it, but the ironic thing had been the reporter totally discredited the rumor by offering her version of the truth: Either Micki was pregnant and they married out of obligation, or, according to the author of the article, it was more likely Gabe and Micki had rekindled their old flame. The reporter’s proof had been to embed a video of the love song he’d sung to her at the CMAs into the report.
With the truth being discredited, why else drag in the old rumor her father couldn’t prove now any more than he had been able to during his and her mother’s divorce, unless he wanted the judge to have the idea that Micki may not be Jesse’s aunt when the custody case was revisited in a few weeks?
She was halfway up the stairs to call Gabe when the queasiness she’d felt since waking up that morning turned into full-fledged nausea. Hurrying into the master bedroom, she made it to the bathroom just in time before she vomited up the meager contents of her stomach.
Damn, the last thing she needed now was to catch the stomach virus going around.
Putting up with Gabe over Thanksgiving and in Las Vegas when they went to the NFR was going to be hard enough.
She turned from the toilet to the sink and splashed cool water onto her face. As she wiped it away with a plush towel, she met her gaze in the mirror. “Time to get the lovey-dovey on.”
Chapter 17
She and Gabe calculated and planned everything. From the time he flew into Dallas to her meeting him at the airport Wednesday afternoon. Waiting for him outside the security zone, she frowned as a man whistled at her and wished she hadn’t taken her mother’s suggestion to dress sexy.
Paparazzi were in the crowd, which she and Gabe had wanted, but she hated the short dress she wore. Although she didn’t like spending his money, her mother talked her into buying a designer dress. Now she stood in the crowded airport with people staring at her in a flirty, cotton dress that cost more than it was worth, a denim jacket, and her red Tony Lamas. She fought the urge to fidget as she watched Gabe approach. He stopped in front of her and set his bags on the floor. In the next beat, he caught her up in his embrace and kissed her.
Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2) Page 17
