Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2)

by Sara Walter Ellwood

  Inside the house, Lydia went on, “I’m not going to play your sick games either.”

  When a second gunshot shattered the day, the officers crashed through the door, at the same time Micki’s vision blurred. She had a feeling of falling.

  “Michaela!”

  Nothing but blackness.

  * * * *

  Gabe paced the waiting room floor of the emergency department. He ignored the stares of the people sitting in the vinyl-covered chairs and was grateful the hospital’s security held the throng of reporters out at the door.

  “Mr. McKenna?”

  He stopped and spun toward the feminine voice. His heart pounded so hard in his chest it hurt. “Yes?”

  “I’m Doctor Cassidy.” The young doctor, dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat, held out her hand and smiled.

  He shook her hand, surprised by the strength in the petite woman’s grip. “Is my wife okay?”

  She glanced at the room full of other waiting patients and family members and motioned for him to come with her. Once they were out of earshot of the waiting room, she said, “Yes. You can see her.”

  “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

  The doctor led him to the room where Michaela had been taken after being brought to the hospital. Those tense moments back at the house flashed through his head and made his heart ache with the same bone-crushing fear that had frozen his blood when he’d watched Micki fall to the ground. His first thought had been that she’d been shot. The EMT on the scene assured him she’d only fainted.

  He entered her room and rushed to the bed. She had an IV attached to her arm and an oxygen cannula at her nose. When she held her hand out to him, he took it and squeezed. “God, Michaela, I thought…”

  “I’m fine.” She gave him a wan smile.

  He glanced at the doctor, who fiddled with a knob on the IV tubing. “What’s going on?”

  The doctor looked at him, then at Michaela with a wide smile. “You were in shock and dehydrated, but you’ll be okay.”

  “The baby?” Michaela’s voice quivered as she laid a hand over her lower belly. He rested his free hand over hers.

  “The baby is fine.” The doctor picked up a computer tablet and swiped the screen, then typed on it. When she looked up, she said, “Your labs are just starting to come back and show a perfect HCG level for as far along as Mr. McKenna said you are. We can do a sonogram, but I think the shock of what happened this morning is what caused the fainting spell, and it had nothing to do with the pregnancy.”

  “Thank God.” Relief made Gabe’s knees so weak he had to sit down on the stool by her bed.

  “I’ll let you alone now.” Dr. Cassidy picked up a call button and clipped it to Micki’s pillow. “Just push this if you need anything.”

  Michaela nodded. “Thanks, Doctor.” Once the doctor closed the door behind her, Michaela turned to Gabe. “What happened at the house?”

  “Lydia shot Lemont.” When she widened her eyes, he added, “In the shoulder. He’s also in this hospital somewhere. He’s in police custody. They’re waiting for us to make a statement as witnesses to him shooting Joel.”

  “How’re Lydia and the baby?”

  “Lydia is shook up. The police took her in for questioning.” He caressed his fingers over her cool cheek. “The baby wasn’t in the house. She was staying with one of Lydia’s friends.”

  “Gabe, she’s my sister.”

  He hated the pain in her voice. “Yeah, but you don’t have to think of her as such.”

  She shook her head and a tear rolled down her cheek. “But how can I not think of her as my sister? Gabe, I know this might sound weird, but I want to get to know her. That baby might not be your daughter, but she is my niece, and I want to be her aunt. Lemont threw all of us out like garbage--me, Lydia, Frankie.” Her eyes turned fierce as she stared up at him. “I hate that man. Makes me wish my mother had screwed around on him and he hadn’t fathered me.”

  “Michaela, Lemont Finn has never been a father to you. It takes more than biology to make a man a father.” Gabe shifted to sit on her bed and wrapped his arm under her shoulders to pull her into an embrace.

  “I know,” she whispered and snuggled close to him. “At least, I know you’ll never be like him.”

  “No.” He kissed the top of her head and rested his hand on her belly. “I love this little guy, and you already know how I feel about Jesse.”

  She met his gaze and smiled. “You need to call Reese. There’s no way in hell Lemont can keep him now.”

  He matched her grin. “Already done. He’ll be waiting at the Lazy M when we get home.”

  Chapter 19

  Micki carried the plate of still-warm chocolate chip cookies to the living room. At the archway, she paused and leaned against the doorframe to watch her husband and nephew sitting on the floor by the massive, decorated Douglas fir. Their dark curly heads bent close as they fiddled with the ancient Lionel train engine. “Flo just gave me this plate of cookies for Santa.”

  Gabe glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled, while Jesse narrowed his eyes on her.

  “I don’t believe in Santa Claus.”

  Gabe ruffled the boy’s hair. “Since when?”

  Jesse shrugged and looked down at the train car in his hand. “Since last year. If he was real, I shoulda got what I wanted. Besides, I’m not a baby.”

  Micki set the plate of cookies on the coffee table and knelt on the other side of Jesse. She wrapped an arm around him and caught Gabe’s gaze for a brief moment before focusing totally on her nephew. “No one ever said you were a baby, Jesse. So, you don’t believe in Santa anymore. Fine.” He turned his blue eyes to hers. She hated that the wide-eyed innocence was gone from them. Losing his parents had dulled it, but the mental abuse her father inflicted afterward completely snuffed it out.

  Her heart ached at the stories Jesse had related to the judge last week. Lemont locked him in his closet as long as a day and denied food for such things as mentioning her and Gabe’s names. He told Jesse he was the reason his parents were dead. The boy had been denied friends, and Lemont was in the process of enrolling him in a boarding school in England.

  Lemont got what was coming to him. The police arrested him for the murder of Joel Horner and for a whole slew of other charges. Now, she and Gabe needed to repair the damage living three months under Lemont Finn’s roof had done to the little boy they both loved enough to slay their own dragons to protect.

  Gabe squeezed her hand where it rested on Jesse’s shoulder. “You know, our dad was about your age when he got this train set for Christmas.”

  Jesse loved hearing Gabe’s tales about their father. Micki had a feeling the stories were doing Gabe as much good as they were Jesse. Although Gabe hated what his father had done to his mother when he’d cheated on her with Frankie, he still loved the man. When she and Gabe were younger, she’d envied his relationship with Sam. Having a loving father was something she’d never known.

  She rested her hand on her belly. But her children would know. Gabe was already proving to be a good father figure for Jesse.

  “He told me that.” Jesse set the car on the track, which ran in a large circle under the tree. “He also told me that Santa brought it for him.”

  Gabe turned the knob on the control box, and the ten-car toy train chugged along the metal track. “Santa did.” At the boy’s dubious expression, Gabe shrugged and rubbed his chin. “I don’t just have Dad’s word. I have Grandpa’s word.”

  “Grandpa?”

  Gabe nodded and smiled. “Yep, Dad’s dad. He passed away when I was just a little older than you. You’re named after him, in fact. And that man never told a lie.” He winked at Micki, then continued his story. “You see, when Dad was little there was a time when the McKennas were about broke. They almost lost the ranch, even. There was no money for Christmas presents, but Dad wrote a letter to Santa asking for a train set a
nd a pony for his baby sister, our aunt Susan.”

  “Aunt Susan always gives me money for my birthday.”

  Gabe chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, she still gives me money, too. Wish she’d stop that. She needs it more than me.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened; then he crawled around the track to fix the engine where it derailed. “You think she’d give me your share?”

  Micki hid her laugh behind her hand and shook her head. “I don’t think so, squirt.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Tell you what, next time she sends me money I’ll give it to you, how about that?” Gabe pulled Micki into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Okay!” Jesse had to fix the engine again.

  “Why don’t you tell us what Santa didn’t bring you?” Micki knew Frankie and Sam had given Jesse whatever he’d wanted for Christmas.

  The train set right on the track again, Jesse folded his hands in front of him and studied Gabe and Micki. “Here’s the thing. Santa can’t bring me what I wanted for Christmas because he can’t bring babies.”

  Micki’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged one of his shoulders in nonchalance, but Micki saw the disappointment in his eyes as he looked back at the train. “I wanted a little brother.” He glanced at Gabe and quickly added, “Not that you aren’t a great brother, Gabe. But I really wanted someone to be a big brother to. I wouldn’t even mind a little sister.” He wrinkled his nose. “Although girls stink.” Then he covered his mouth. “Sorry, Aunt Micki!”

  Chuckling, Gabe met her gaze as she looked over her shoulder at him. They’d talked about telling the family about the pregnancy. She’d been to the doctor last week and everything was exactly the way it should be. Gabe tightened his grip on her and turned back to his brother, or, as in the eyes of the Texas courts, their adopted son. “Well, see, Santa is going to make your wish come true this year.”

  Jesse furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at them. “How?”

  Leaning over, Micki smiled and took her nephew into her arms. He settled against her chest. As she rested her chin on his shoulder, she said, “I’m going to have a baby.”

  “A baby?” Jesse turned around so fast that he pulled Micki with him. If Gabe hadn’t had her wrapped up so tight, she would have plunged face first into the rambling train and probably the Christmas tree, too.

  Gabe nodded against the side of her face. “Yeah, buddy. I guess he’d really be your nephew… or cousin, depending on how you want to look at it, but I think it would be so much better if you think of our baby as your little brother.”

  Micki rested her hand over her T-shirt and still-flat belly.

  Jesse’s gaze followed the motion and his brows pinched into a deep grove as if he didn’t believe them. “When will he come out?”

  Micki laughed and poked Gabe in the ribs. He was as bad as his ten-year-old bother when it came to insisting she was carrying a boy. “He or she will be born in July. So you have some time to help us come up with a name.”

  The boy who’d lived through too much at such a young age gave her a smile that belied his age. “I know the perfect names. We should name him after Daddy.” He added as an afterthought, “Or her after Momma if it’s a girl.”

  Micki glanced over her shoulder at Gabe. He’d be the last person who’d name a child after her sister. Leaning over, he ruffled Jesse’s hair again. “Tell you what, we’ll think about this some more when we get closer to meeting the little fella. Okay?”

  Jesse nodded and studied them both. “I’m glad y’all got married. Momma said she wished that someday you would.”

  Micki’s heart clenched a little with pain at the mention of her sister. She’d love to name her daughter after Frankie, at least in part--maybe Anna Frances after Gabe’s mother, too. They had plenty of time to think about it. She stood up and held out her hand to him. “Your momma was a smart lady.”

  “Yeah.” He watched the train as it disappeared behind the tree stand. “She was.”

  “You know, just in case Santa is real, you’d better be getting to bed soon.” Gabe met Micki’s gaze and smiled.

  Jesse frowned but didn’t argue. Instead, he stood up and looked at Gabe. “You don’t lie either, Gabe. So maybe I’m wrong about Santa.” He hugged his big brother. “Good night, Gabe. You’re the best.”

  He hurried past them and out of the room as Gabe watched him. “Having him in my life almost makes up for what Dad and Frankie did to my mom.” Turning his gaze to her, she was surprised to see a mistiness clouding his golden-brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have him if they hadn’t been together.”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Fate has the way of one screwed-up comedian when it comes to life.”

  “You got that right.” He snorted and squeezed her hand on his shoulder. “You know, that sounds like a great line for a song.”

  “Just don’t give me credit if you write it.” She headed for the door. “I’m going to tuck Jesse in. I’ll be back.”

  Twenty minutes later, she entered the living room again. Gabe had turned off all the lights, except the Christmas tree lights, and was seated on the couch in front of the warm blaze in the fireplace. He grinned at her as she settled in the crook of his arm and snuggled up next to him.

  “What time are Lydia and the baby supposed to show up tomorrow?”

  She shrugged against him. Yeah, Fate had one sick sense of humor for making her and Lydia Greenhow sisters. “She said before dinner. I’m still not sure about this. She’s one messed up girl. And it’s a little weird finding out you have a sister that you didn’t know about.”

  He kissed her temple and rested his chin on her head. “Why did you invite her here for Christmas dinner?”

  “Because she is my sister and because I want to get to know Natasha. I’m her aunt. They’re Jesse’s family.” She moved so that she could meet his gaze. “Gabe, does having her around bother you? I mean you and her were… ah… together once.”

  “Does it bother you?” He feathered his fingers over her face.

  “Not as much as before.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and shifted her body so that she could straddle his thighs. “But let’s not talk about any of that.” She kissed him hard on the lips.

  When he broke the kiss, he held out a small black velvet box. What the devil? She narrowed her eyes on him. “What did you do?”

  He shrugged and opened the box. Lying on the satin inside was a simple platinum engagement ring. “Um…” She wiggled her left hand and the indecent sparkler dominating her ring finger. “I think we burnt that bridge. I’m yours for better and for worse.”

  “That you are.” Gabe took the ring out of the box. “But I want you to have my mother’s ring back. It belongs to you.”

  She glanced at the beautiful diamond he’d put on her finger when he proposed to her after they’d lost Jesse’s custody case. As obnoxious as the seven-carat diamond was, she had grown to love the ring. She wouldn’t ever part with it. Meeting his expectant gaze, she held out her right hand. “I would love to wear your mother’s ring, but I’m not giving up on mine.”

  He slipped the ring on her right ring finger and grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs. McKenna.” Then he stood, shifting her into a bridal carry. “Now, I’m taking you to bed. I know what I want Santa to bring me.”

  She giggled as he carried her through the room and up the stairs. “And what’s that?”

  “You.” His smile turned deliciously wicked, and she shivered as he whispered in her ear, “I want to make love to you until neither of us can move.”

  Meet the Author

  Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one v
ery spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood also writes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.

  Please visit her at www.facebook.com/sarawalterellwood.ceradubois

  http://www.twitter.com/sara_w_ellwood, http://www.sarawalterellwood.com/blog/

  https://plus.google.com/u/0/102888788054405451480/posts

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6869635.Sara_Walter_Ellwood

  Be sure not to miss Sara Walter Ellwood’s sequel to Heartsong

  Heartland

  Read on for a special sneak peek of the next book in the Singing to the Heart series!

  Learn more about Sara Walter Ellwood at http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/29486

  Chapter 1

  Emily Kendall was tired of life-changing events. She’d had enough. But God or whatever fate controlled the universe wasn’t done fucking with her life. “Are you sure? Hell, it’s been weeks since I’ve even seen my husband, let alone had sex. Maybe the test was wrong.”

  She’d heard many life-changing words in her twenty-two years of life. The first had come when she was only fourteen and discovered superstar country singer Seth Kendall was her biological father. A few weeks after that revelation, the man she’d grown up loving as her father had shot her real dad and planned to kidnap her to sell into sex slavery.

  Since then, a lot had happened. She’d become famous. Most people would even argue she was more famous than her dad, who helped her get her first record deal when she was barely fifteen. She broke sales records set by some of the best singers in the business, won countless awards, and sponsored everything from acne creams to jeans.

  When she was three months shy of turning twenty, she’d met the British pop star Fabian McPhee. They’d collaborated on a TV special for the CMT network. He was fifteen years older than she was, mega famous, and super sexy. A month later while she was on tour in Australia, he’d asked her out to a nightclub.