Nights Under the Tennessee Stars

by Joanne Rock

  She was doing the Dress for Success event for the same basic reason—to give single parents the tools they needed to care for their families.

  “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I know last night didn’t turn out exactly the way we thought it would.”

  “Some parts turned out better,” she teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Definitely. But other aspects got a whole lot more complicated.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering the way he’d made her feel. The urgency underlying every touch.

  “They don’t have to be.” She didn’t need her hand held. Didn’t have to be a part of his life just because they’d slept together.

  “I just don’t want you to feel obligated—”

  “I won’t.”

  “Or give you a false impression—”

  “You can’t.” She cut him off sharply, unwilling to hear him spell out all the reasons they couldn’t be together. “I’m not going to fall for another guy who is...unavailable.”

  “Okay, then,” he said carefully, making her wish she hadn’t been so abrupt.

  “So will you be at the store tomorrow when the filming starts?” She changed the subject, not sure what else to say about where they stood.

  He was right—they hadn’t meant to be in this position afterward. But now that they would have to be around each other in the aftermath, she would try to make the best of it.

  “Briefly. I’ll stick around long enough to introduce the crew and get you started.”

  She was curious about how he’d spend the rest of the day, but maybe he would be looking into the legalities of Sarah’s father sending her mail. Remy didn’t offer anything more, however.

  “Great.” She forced a smile, hoping it brought an easiness to her voice she didn’t feel. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  Disconnecting the call, she held the phone for a long time afterward. She’d meant what she’d said about not falling for him. She couldn’t afford that kind of hit to her heart—not so close on the heels of what had happened with Patrick.

  It was a shame, her heart whispered just before she fell asleep. Because if ever there would have been an amazing guy to take another chance with, it would have been Remy. A caring father, a generous lover, a talented professional... He possessed so many qualities she wanted in a man. But his wife’s death might very well have robbed him of the ability to love another woman the same way. Finding that out would be enough to break a woman’s heart—not just for six months, but possibly for the rest of time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SARAH STARED THROUGH the lens of camera number three, a stationary angle that would record the cash register and front counter of Last Chance Vintage on a continuous basis.

  Finally, she was working behind a camera and learning something about how a television show came together. Who needed a college education when she could assist a super-successful producer like her dad? She’d waited too long to learn more about her mother’s career and talent. Now she’d never have the chance to see her working in her studio again. But there was no reason she couldn’t learn more about her father’s world and experience it for herself. The day would be perfect, if not for a trip to the police station hanging over her head.

  Shoving thoughts of the letter aside, she played with the focus on the camera, seeing what all the buttons did.

  The morning sun shone bright through the front windows of the store crowded with her dad’s production crew and—it seemed like—half the population of Heartache, Tennessee. Twenty people milled around the front of the building, waiting for the store to open so they could be a part of Interstate Antiquer.

  At least, that was her dad’s perspective. She happened to know that all those people on the street were there for Erin because Erin had tons of friends.

  Sarah sharpened the focus on the camera, bringing Erin into clear view at the front counter. Erin laughed at something Ally said a second before Mrs. Finley brought out a makeup brush to dust powder over Erin’s face.

  “Aunt Erin looks great.” Ally rushed over to gush at Sarah’s side. She glanced down at the viewing window for the camera to see what the scene would look like once it was recorded.

  Ally had taken the day off school to be present for the first day of filming. Of course, Ally had already gotten into Vanderbilt in Nashville, so she didn’t need to worry about her grades or her attendance record. Lucky.

  “That outfit is killer,” Sarah agreed, admiring the tribal-patterned shorts Erin wore with dark lace leggings and knee boots. A creamy linen blouse topped it off and she wore her hair up in a messy clip. “I’m glad she didn’t go too conservative like she was talking about with Trish at the clothing drive.”

  “Although this is kind of conservative for her,” Ally pointed out. “She’d been wearing a lot of Goth stuff up until last week. Even her hair is lighter now.”

  Sarah wondered if the recent changes had anything to do with her father. The two of them had definitely spent a lot of time together in the past week and a half. And Sarah had noticed her dad smiled at Erin more than he smiled at most people. Which was still hardly ever considering he’d turned a lot more serious in the past two years. But she had noticed.

  Even now, her dad strolled over to Erin and Bethany to introduce the crew’s gofer who’d brought coffees for everyone. Erin smiled at the gofer kid as she thanked him. For the most part, though, Erin’s eyes seemed stuck to Dad.

  “Ally, do you think your aunt likes my father?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. For so long, she’d been hoping he would stop grieving and living in the past.

  Then again, she couldn’t picture him with anyone else but her mom.

  “I don’t know, but it sounds like your dad is kind of a rock star with the mom crowd.” Ally raised her cell phone and snapped photos of the store and all the cameras.

  “It’s weird. I have a teacher who practically drools when he comes into school for a meeting.” Sarah shuddered.

  “You don’t live with your mom?” Ally asked while texting, not even looking up.

  “No.” Sarah didn’t get asked the question very often. Back at school, everyone had known what had happened to her mother thanks to the papers. The internet. The TV news every night for months during the trial. “She died a couple of years ago.”

  Ally’s eyes flashed up to hers, her phone forgotten.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Her hand covered Sarah’s wrist in automatic sympathy.

  Or was it empathy?

  If she’d studied for her SATs, maybe she’d know. Either way, it felt nice.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t mention that her biological father had been the reason that her mother was dead now. Or that Sarah was on her way to the police station to let them know what a twisted creep her DNA donor was.

  Ally might not feel so sympathetic then. Swallowing back her nervousness about the police station visit, Sarah set the camcorder on Auto-record and shuffled out of the way of one of the production guys carrying in an extra spotlight.

  “I’m glad you’re staying in Heartache for a little while,” Ally said. “I’m going to school tomorrow, but then we’re off all next week if you want to do anything.”

  “That’d be nice.” Idly, she flipped through a rack of blouses organized by color and size, stopping when she got to a tee with a bunch of female superheroes on the front. “Will there be any more parties? I had fun last night.”

  She and Lucas had been making out in the woods before her father’s arrival. Total buzzkill.

  “Did you? I wondered if everything was okay since your dad came to get you.”

  “Right. Well, that part was a major downer, but I was having fun until then.” Why did he try to pry confidences out of her that were supposed to be private between her and Theresa?

  “Is he worried about you being with Lucas?” Ally passed her a bright blue miniskirt. “This would be cute with the superheroes tee, by the way.”


  “Why would he worry about Lucas?” She couldn’t focus on the skirt. She moved out of the way of a rolling camera as it followed another customer through the store.

  “Oh.” Ally shook her head. “No reason. I just wondered why your dad wanted you to leave.”

  Ally sounded sincere, yet her cheeks turned pink as she leafed through the clothing racks faster.

  “Why does everyone think Lucas is trouble?” Sarah kept her voice low, since the cameras were probably picking up audio now. There weren’t any close to them, but she knew the microphones on her dad’s equipment were much better than anything she had on her phone.

  “I’m not sure, honestly.” Ally shrugged. “I don’t want to spread rumors anyway.”

  “Ally—”

  “Sarah?” Her dad interrupted—as always—just when things were getting interesting. “Are you ready to go?”

  He must have ESP in addition to all his other protector-father instincts.

  “Okay.” It wasn’t as if she’d have this conversation with her new friend in front of him anyhow. “Text me later,” she told Ally as she brought the shirt and skirt to the front of the store. Turning to her dad, she asked, “We’ll stop by the shop afterward, right?”

  “I can drop you off here if you like, but I’m probably going to get some work done at the hotel.”

  “Or you can just drop me off at the soccer field and I’ll pick up my car.” She handed the clothes to Ally’s mom, who still stood by the front counter while Erin helped a customer. “Can I hold these until later, Mrs. Finley?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling, though Sarah was pretty sure she had a tear in her eye. “I’ll let Erin know.”

  If there hadn’t been other people around, Sarah would have asked her if she was okay. She didn’t want to put Mrs. Finley on the spot, though, so she simply thanked her and followed her father out the front door.

  “Dad?” She hurried to catch up to his long steps.

  He’s mad at me. She kept thinking it even though Theresa always told her that he wasn’t mad just because he didn’t have much to say.

  Pausing outside the rental car, he waited for her to speak.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the letter sooner.” She hated it when he became quiet. It reminded her too much of those months right after her mom’s death where he’d barely spoken.

  She slid into the passenger side of the big four-door Lincoln and buckled up. Then she locked the door, too, knowing how much he appreciated it when she took extra safety precautions.

  He didn’t speak for a long moment as he got in and started the car. He looked tired. Sad. She remembered days when he’d been so full of energy even after he came home from a business trip. He’d race into the house with surprise concert tickets for her mom or a new phone with a shiny pink case for her. She missed that—not for the phones or tickets—but just seeing him full of life and happiness. Finally, he looked at her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  A million answers came to mind. Any of which would have been true since there were—literally—a million reasons why. But she went with one she hoped he might understand.

  “I keep thinking we’re finally done with the nightmare, and then something new happens to make it come back.” She couldn’t look at him when she said it or she would cry and that would hurt him worse. “I just couldn’t stand for this letter to undo all the hard work we’ve done to put it behind us.”

  “That’s the problem.” Exhaling a long breath, he pounded the steering wheel lightly with his fist. “The past isn’t really behind us, is it?” He picked up the stupid envelope with the postmark from Pollock, Louisiana.

  “Maybe if we tried harder to move forward, it would be.” She’d never said it in so many words to him. But that was what she wanted more than anything.

  She held her breath waiting for his verdict, her chest really tight.

  “I think we have different ideas of what it means to try hard, Sarah.” He set the letter down in the console between them. “For you, it means forgetting. For me, it means making sure nothing like that can ever touch us again.”

  His expression seemed so distant, his words a reminder they were moving apart in every way possible. She’d already lost her mom. Soon she’d lose the only man she’d ever really thought of as a father, and not just because she’d need to take more responsibility for herself after high school ended. Also because the man she used to know was fading a little more every day, his happy spirit smudged by grief and worry.

  Without another word, he backed out of the parking spot onto the street and headed in the direction of the cop shop.

  She’d have to tell her story all over again to strangers. She would read the letter that Brandon had sent and maybe find out why he’d contacted her. Already the knot in her stomach tightened and grew cold. She needed Lucas here with her.

  It didn’t matter to her what he’d done in the past. Didn’t matter that people like Ally thought he’d done something wrong. Sarah had plenty of experience putting the past behind her. She just wished she could do this together with Lucas instead of sitting beside her quiet, brooding father, who always seemed a moment away from being mad.

  She was happy they were staying in Heartache. She’d have time to seek out Lucas and find out why everyone thought he was trouble. As for her father? Maybe he could spend more time with Erin Finley. He might not realize he needed a woman around, and compared to the drooling teacher or the random flirty women he worked with, Erin seemed really cool. She did compassionate things like organize clothing drives, plus she was kind of artsy.

  Sarah liked that. And deep down, she knew her dad must like that, too. He’d been an artist once, before he’d set that aside to be some kind of super-provider for her and her mom.

  Besides, Sarah was tired of dishing out all the wise life advice to her dad and having it fall on deaf ears. She needed help with him. She also needed a distraction for when she wanted to hang out with Lucas. Maybe if her father was busy dating, he wouldn’t have time to chase her down at every party.

  After this police station visit was over, she was going to commence Operation Return to Dating.

  * * *

  THE HITS JUST kept coming.

  Tipping his chair back on two legs, Remy rested his head on the waiting room wall at the police station while he sat outside a conference room where a female investigator had taken Sarah for a private discussion.

  The lady investigator had spoken to him first, assuring Remy that she needed to ask Sarah questions privately about whether or not she felt safe at home. They were a fairly standard list and Theresa had warned him that the local cops might speak to her without him being present since she was eighteen. But it was making him nuts to think about her having to undergo some kind of police quiz alone.

  Hadn’t the poor kid been through enough in the past two years without her idiot of a biological father bringing this down on her head?

  Uninspiring gray walls surrounded him as did a few other people in uncomfortable wooden chairs. A man and his son had arrived to fill out a report about a stolen bike. A young woman waited for information about becoming a police officer. Another woman waited for her husband—the cop at the front desk—to finish his shift so she could take him out to dinner for his birthday.

  The birthday couple exchanged looks every other minute. And the “I want to get you naked” vibe seemed inappropriate at best. Then again, maybe Remy just envied that certainty of going home with someone. Of celebrating a birthday with someone. He missed the normal ebb and flow of an everyday, average life.

  Damn, but he wished his daughter would be done soon.

  His phone chimed and he almost ignored it in case it was work related. But what if it was Sarah’s counselor?

  Are you OK? How is Sarah?

  The text from Erin eased some of the tension in his chest. In spite of everything, hearing from her felt good. Maybe even like a slice of normal in an otherwise upside-down
day. He lowered his chair back to the floor to key in a reply.

  Letter from her dad nonthreatening. Taking all day to document every facet of his stupidity.

  Remy hit Send.

  The return chime sounded in about two seconds, making him wonder how she could read that fast, let alone type.

  Did he break a law in contacting her?

  The answer was so convoluted he didn’t know quite where to begin. The local police believed there was a responsibility on Sarah’s part to file a new form with the Bureau of Prisons once she turned eighteen to stay on Brandon’s “Do Not Contact” list. Remy would be sure the paperwork was filed immediately. He had already contacted his lawyer.

  Gray area. I can explain over dinner if you don’t mind surly company.

  After he sent the message, he realized it didn’t sound like much of an invitation. He was about to send something more politely worded when she responded.

  Will there be cupcakes?

  He grinned. That in itself was a miracle considering the day he’d had. Being back in a police station—just that alone—was tough. But thinking about Sarah and how scared she’d been with that letter in her possession for two weeks... That made him mad.

  Definitely. I can take you out or bring food to you. Your choice.

  The door to the conference room opened and Sarah walked out, the lady police officer behind her. They were both smiling. Relaxed. The woman was asking Sarah about the clothing drive at the store.

  Remy’s heart recovered a little more even as his phone chimed with one final message.

  You had me at “bring food.”

  * * *

  “PSST.” BETHANY GAVE Erin a gentle poke in the shoulder as she typed another note. “You shouldn’t be texting while being filmed on TV,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  Erin looked up at her empty store. Half the town had filtered through in the morning hours, some of them eager to see what all the fuss was about with a film crew in town and the rest eager to be on film. But now things had quieted down so that her only shopper was an elderly woman from the next town over who’d driven in to look for clothes for her kids and grandkids. Ally had left for her part-time job at the hair salon. A few of the production guys had taken off for parts unknown so that only two people manned the equipment.