Nights Under the Tennessee Stars

by Joanne Rock

  “Well?” he bellowed.

  She swallowed again, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I sell clothes here, but I don’t remember selling any to your girlfriend. And—” A panicky stab of fear cut off her words for a moment. “To be honest, you’re making me nervous, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Maybe he would go. Maybe he had simply needed to vent and complain. She prayed that was all.

  Prayed...and tried to remember where she’d laid that hammer she’d used earlier.

  “It’s funny you say that, because I’m going to have to ask you to tell my Jamie that her place is with her man.” He snarled the words, although he hadn’t made an overt threat yet.

  She remembered where she had put the hammer.

  Sidling closer to the register, she felt for the shelf alongside it.

  “Hey, sis,” a friendly voice called from the doorway. “Is it too late for a donation?”

  Her older brother Scott appeared next to the potted rosebush, a big box in his hands.

  Relief nearly brought her to her knees.

  Until the big, surly stranger pulled a knife.

  * * *

  REMY TURNED OFF the GPS as he neared the exit off I-65 for Heartache. It hadn’t taken him long to learn his way around town. This small map-dot in central Tennessee had ended up feeling more like home in the course of almost two weeks than Miami had done in the years he’d lived there.

  Then again, maybe he hadn’t really wanted Miami to feel like home. Part of the reason he’d chosen the city after Liv’s death was to be anonymous. The fewer people he connected with, the less he needed to talk about the past, but it sure as hell hadn’t helped him move on. Whereas being in Heartache had hauled him back to the land of the living and it felt—nice.

  With the pink and gold colors of sunset slanting across his windshield, Remy drank in the moment that seemed like coming home. He’d spoken to Theresa, Sarah’s counselor, and they had a plan for helping her apply to some schools that used rolling admissions. However, he wanted Sarah to be on board with it. This week would give him that time to figure it out.

  Now, after a quick stop at the B and B to change, he’d call Erin and find out where to meet her. He could take her out for dinner and then guide her around the dance floor under the stars. If the band playing at Lucky’s tonight was half as good as the group he’d heard last week, they would have a fun night. Actually, he could have a good time with Erin by cranking up the radio on her deck and two-stepping through the damp grass in her backyard. He needed more of that in his life if he was going to make a real effort to move on.

  Needed more of Erin.

  Not quite sure what to do about that thought, he shoved it aside for now. He’d bought another week to be with her, and he planned to enjoy the time without worrying about what happened afterward.

  Heading through the center of town to get to the Heartache B and B, Remy turned onto Main Street.

  His heart stopped when he saw the cop cars in front of Erin’s store. Blinking hard, he hoped for a second this was another nightmare—a new one that merged past and present. Cold sweat popped along the back of his shoulders. Clammy hands slid on the steering wheel as he slowed the sedan to a crawl.

  Two county sheriff’s cruisers flanked the shop doors. All the lights were on in Last Chance Vintage, while the other stores were dark and closed for the night.

  Remy must have parked his vehicle in a blind fog because, in the next moment, he walked toward the front door. Voices emerged from inside, but not hers. Not Erin’s. Where the hell was Erin?

  Uniformed officers appeared in front of him.

  One face after another. None of them the right one.

  The hissing static of the past filled his ears. He couldn’t hear what any of them were saying. He lumbered around the store like a wounded bear, bumping into racks and knocking over a display until an officer grabbed him by the elbow.

  “Where is she?” he shouted, his words the only ones he could hear.

  Except for hers.

  “Remy?”

  Erin burst into the store through the open back door.

  Relief pierced his chest like a tranquilizer dart, stopping the fear. He reached for her, unsteady as hell, and she wrapped him in a hug so hard she might have kept him on his feet. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled the amber fragrance of her perfume, the clean smell of her shampoo.

  Her heart pounded softly against his chest, making him realize he held her too tightly. With a kiss to her forehead, he loosened his hold. Stared into cornflower blue eyes.

  “I wish I’d called you. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner. Maybe I hoped everything would be cleared up before you got here. Or maybe I’m not thinking clearly at all.”

  “You’re okay.” He needed to affirm it. To hear her say it.

  His pulse still jittered too fast.

  “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” She stroked his arm. Kissed his shoulder. “I’m just a little...scattered. I had a disgruntled visitor earlier, but he’s gone now. The police escorted him off the premises and I’ve already given my statement, so I think we’re about done here.”

  It occurred to him the police were now worried about him. Four officers stood close by, their posture broadcasting a tense physical alertness that Remy recognized from his brother’s friends. Another guy lurked behind Erin—but he seemed more relaxed as he spoke into his cell phone and paced around the back door. He recognized the man from a quick introduction the week before—Erin’s brother Scott.

  “You need an alarm.” Remy didn’t care about the tense cops or the pacing brother.

  He cared about keeping her safe and making sure the police never had a reason to respond to a call from her again.

  “I left the back door open,” Erin admitted. “That’s my fault for not being more careful.”

  “An alarm isn’t a bad idea, Erin,” the youngest-looking detective spoke up. “Now that you’re helping women who are in difficult circumstances, your chances of running into bitter ex-husbands and boyfriends definitely increases.”

  Erin nodded as she threaded her fingers through Remy’s and squeezed. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you for coming.”

  “We’re going to ask for a restraining order if you don’t hold this guy,” Remy informed the officers as they filed toward the door, his brain engaging now that the adrenaline flow had slowed down. “Keep that in mind if you’re driving by the place.”

  “Will do,” the youngest one assured him. “I assure you, the state of Tennessee does not look on aggravated assault lightly. We’ll throw everything we’ve got at this guy.”

  Everything inside him stilled while the cop went on his way with a wave at Erin. Remy’s chest squeezed painfully.

  “Aggravated assault?” He’d spent enough time in courtroom legalese to know when a weapon was involved.

  “Thanks again!” Erin called to the departing officers. When she turned back to him, she appeared worried, her lip caught between her teeth. “It’s okay. He’s gone now.”

  “Aggravated assault? What happened?” he ground out, the remnants of old fear spiking. “This sounds like more than a ‘disgruntled visitor.’”

  “Erin, I’m taking off,” her brother called from the back of the store. “I don’t want to keep Bethany waiting. You sure you’re okay?” The guy’s eyes wandered to Remy and then back to his sister.

  “I’m fine.” Erin let go of his hand to hug Scott. “Thank you so much.”

  “I’m glad I was here.” Her brother hugged her hard. “Call if you need anything.”

  “I will, I promise.” She kissed his cheek. “Go enjoy your date.”

  Her words reminded him that this was the brother who’d been having problems with his wife. Remy wondered if the guy knew how lucky he was to be married long enough to bicker over chores and date nights.

  Damn, but that sounded bitter.

  “Erin.” He didn’t think that hearing what
had happened tonight would improve his mood, but he needed to know. “What went on here?”

  He dropped into a seat behind the front desk, weary to his toes and scared for whatever she might say next.

  “You remember Jamie Raybourn?” She switched off a few old-fashioned desk lamps that were operated by pull chains.

  “She’s the one we filmed for the extra segment.” He steepled his fingers together as he listened, trying to hold on to his patience. “We got really good footage at the hair salon.”

  “Yes. And her ex-boyfriend lives in the next town over.” Erin set aside her phone and leaned on the front desk across from him. “He heard that I helped Jamie get on her feet and make a fresh start. That ticked him off.”

  “So what good would it do to come over here?” He wished he’d been with her.

  “He said I needed to tell Jamie that a woman’s place was with her man.”

  “And?” He braced himself.

  If the dirtbag had pulled a gun on her, Remy didn’t think he’d be able to stay in his chair.

  “Scott came in the back door then, thank goodness, because the guy drew a knife.”

  “A knife?” He swore even as his head swam with dark visions of what could have happened. He leaned forward in the chair to slap a stabilizing hand on the surface of the counter.

  “I know.” Erin shook her head. “It was tense for a minute.”

  “What happened?” He edged the words past the fear in his throat.

  “I threw a hammer at him. Scott bowled him over with a box of used clothes.” She gestured to a bunch of dresses and blouses on the floor in the far corner of the room.

  He hadn’t even noticed that before.

  “You’re kidding.” He couldn’t decide if that had been quick thinking on her part or if she’d seriously endangered herself by throwing a potentially lethal item at an armed intruder.

  His head hurt for thinking about all the things that could have happened to her.

  “No. It was over fast after that.” She started picking the clothes up. “The knife came out of his hand when Scott knocked him over, so I kicked it under those shelves.” She indicated a heavy piece of furniture against the wall. “The police took the weapon as evidence. They were here in about two minutes after I called since they patrol the park well on nights when Lucky’s hosts the outdoor dining.”

  “Right.” He couldn’t absorb all the details, his chest aching from fears he might never be able to shake.

  Sure, she was fine now. But how much worse would this make his nightmares? His panic attacks that still came back? More important, how much danger did it put Erin in to work on her Dress for Success campaign?

  “Remy?” She dropped the skirt she held and left it on a braid rug near the pie safe. “Are you okay? I can finish straightening this mess tomorrow. Let’s go get some food and try to put this behind us.”

  How many times had he heard that over the past two years? “Put the past behind us” was the refrain everyone else came back to, but, damn it, he wasn’t budging when Erin’s safety was at stake. Maybe Sarah’s, too.

  “I don’t think food is going to help.” This kind of queasiness wouldn’t be chased away easily. “I should probably check in with Sarah.” He was already texting.

  “When she left here, she was going to change at the bed-and-breakfast, then go to the park to see her friends.”

  “When was that?” Cold dread coated his skin. He’d forgotten that Sarah had planned to help the camera crew today. “Was she here when that maniac came?”

  “No, thank God.” Erin hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just...we had a good visit before she left. She hoped we’d be at Lucky’s tonight, but I’ll warn you—I think she’s trying to matchmake.” She traced the pattern in a paisley handkerchief draped under a display of snuffboxes.

  “Matchmake? Between who?”

  Erin’s eyes met his with disbelief shifting to something that looked like wariness.

  Anger.

  “Us, Remy. I think she likes the idea of you and me. And since she’s a girl who—you said yourself—is ‘all in’ when she likes someone, I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to her about that.”

  “Right.” Did that mean he should warn Sarah there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever be the right man for Erin? Or that he should try harder to make things work with her? “Remember me saying last night I wanted to enjoy a day or two of no drama?”

  Erin tensed. “I do.” She moved closer to him. Dropped a hand on his shoulder while he slouched in the chair. “I truly wish we could have had that.”

  For a moment, he closed his eyes and enjoyed her nearness. But he couldn’t avoid the new realization that was becoming more and more apparent.

  “I know you were ready to take a risk on us. To just enjoy the time we had. But I don’t think I understood how much I’d be risking, too.” Maybe he’d figured he was too numb after Liv’s death to have his heart tromped on. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Sarah could get hurt again. “However, now that I’ve seen my recurring nightmare come to life today, I understand the potential for fallout is damn high.”

  “We still have a whole week together.” Her eyes were unnaturally bright and he regretted the fact that she’d already had enough crap to deal with today. “And you’re giving up already?”

  It tore him up to see her so upset.

  “Erin, I know I should be comforting you right now, not raking through my own issues.”

  Her silence told him how much she agreed. Normally, she was quick to offer reassurance. Comfort. Smooth things over. But not about this.

  “Right.” He forged ahead, unwilling to hide from the truth. “Of course that’s what a good man would do right now. So what more proof do we need that I can’t do this yet? That I don’t have my life in order enough to offer you the kind of relationship you deserve?”

  She was quiet for so long he wondered if she would answer at all. But when she met his gaze, her voice was steady.

  “I do deserve better. You’re right about that much.” She bit her lip, as if weighing how much to say, but then she pressed on. “I thought after what we’d shared, you might start to see you deserve better, too. But you have to reach for that happiness and look forward to find it. Maybe you need to start seeing me for what I have to offer and not just as another vulnerable woman in your life who might get hurt.”

  Her words peppered his chest like a series of arrows, stinging even after she became quiet again. Rubbed raw inside, he didn’t have a clue what to say to make things better. She was 100 percent accurate about him not being able to look forward.

  Yet, as she collected her things and moved toward the door, he found himself going with her. The searching look she gave him over one shoulder told him what she was thinking. Was he walking her to the car because he wanted to be with her? Or to make sure she was safe?

  Damned if he knew for sure himself.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SARAH BYPASSED THE liquor store.

  Funny how sitting in the parking lot and waiting to find a guy to buy her drinks had seemed daring and grown-up a couple of weeks ago.

  Now? She felt ten times more grown-up for keeping her distance. Anyhow, it wasn’t as if she ever really needed the drinks. She merely enjoyed the attention they brought her when she got to a party. Here in Heartache, she had attention. Erin looked at her as more than just a kid on the verge of a breakdown because her mother died. Erin saw her as a person with a life that wasn’t just defined by one god-awful moment. It had felt good talking to her about the past and her old house. It felt good having a friendship with Ally Finley and rooting for her mom to fix her marriage with Ally’s dad.

  Sarah’s father might still only see her in momentary flashes between the old bouts of grief, but in Heartache, it didn’t hurt as much, because there were other people who paid attention.

  Circling the village square in her car, Sarah searched for a
free parking spot and realized she’d have to do a bit of walking. She should have left the B and B earlier, but she’d taken extra time to look her best.

  She’d also spoken to her counselor about the new turns life had taken, and for once, she didn’t feel like a fraud when she got off the phone. She’d been honest. Amazing how much it helped to have told her father about the letter from Brandon. She’d deleted her Twitter account like the police suggested so “lockeduplove47” couldn’t find her. The cops seemed to think “Becky” was Brandon’s girlfriend.

  Ew.

  Pulling into a free space on a street two blocks from the park, Sarah texted her friends to see if someone would walk with her. Dad harped on stuff like that constantly, and in her effort to be better to him, she figured it couldn’t hurt to wait five more minutes. A reply came faster than that, though.

  Flash your lights so I can find you.

  Lucas.

  Warmth tingled along her skin, heated and shivery at the same time. She turned her lights on and off quickly then stepped out of the car. Already, she could hear his footsteps as he jogged toward her on the darkened street.

  “I’m going to be ready for track season you’ve got me running so much, Sarah.” He sped past a street lamp and she could see him vault over a fire hydrant, the reflective stripe on his tennis shoes catching the light.

  “Nice!” she called, locking the car behind her. “Your hurdle form isn’t bad, but your speed could use some work.”

  He slowed to a stop in front of her. Only now did she notice that he really could be a runner. He had the lean strength of a track athlete and he hadn’t broken a sweat. Wasn’t breathing hard, either.

  “I’ll let my hurdle coach know you approve.” He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes in a way that made her insides melt a little. “But I paced myself so I wouldn’t be sweaty for you. I’m hoping I can convince you to take a turn on the dance floor tonight.”

  “Really?” She stroked her thumbs over the backs of his broad hands and admired how nice he looked in cargo shorts and a polo shirt with wide blue stripes. “Are you sure you know how to two-step?”