“That whole thing with Billy Sweet bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because Mr. Lord said he didn’t think he could keep the band going without Billy. I don’t think he was thinking clearly. It was his grief talking. If he gives it up, all those people who depend on him will be out of a job.”
“And the music world will lose one of the greatest entertainers of all time,” Carly said as she dumped sugar into her cup.
“Okay, I’m going to get dressed and drive up there,” Sara said. “I’ll see you in the morning. No, I won’t. I’m off tomorrow. Who cooks dinner tomorrow?”
“The one who stays home. I’m in the mood for some stuffed pork chops. Sweet potatoes, snap peas, a crisp salad, and maybe some made-from-scratch dinner rolls.”
“I know where you can get that—the Sunflower Grill,” Sara shot over her shoulder.
Carly gulped at her tea. Tomorrow evening dinner would be just as she requested, right down to a linen tablecloth and matching napkins along with crystal glasses of Evian water. Sara was the best doctor in the world. The best cook in the world, the best sister in the world. Sara was simply the best.
Carly craned her neck for a better look at the note taped to the brown package. Dallas Lord’s phone number. Hmmmnn. She reached behind her for the phone. Without hesitating, she dialed the number. “Yes, hello. This is Carly Killian. I’m a nurse at Benton Hospital. I just wanted to leave word that Dr. Sara Killian is on her way to Mr. Lord’s house to drop off Mr. Sweet’s belongings. It would be nice if someone would admit her through the gates. Please give the message to Mr. Lord. I think he wanted to speak to Dr. Killian personally. Thank you. Yes, I know it’s late. Doctors work very long hours. No problem.” Carly dusted her hands dramatically. “Matchmaking has always been my strong point,” she said aloud.
Carly was rinsing out her cup when Sara entered the kitchen. “You look like you’re going on a ... hayride. It’s a given that some cop is going to pull you over at this time of night in that racy Jag. Maybe you should fix yourself up a little. A little rouge, some earrings, some of that sinful perfume. You look like a farmer, Sara.”
“Maybe you should mind your business, Carly. I’m dressed for comfort.”
“Bib overalls! Ponytail! Nike Airs! Give me a break.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. Lock the door behind me and don’t let any strangers in.”
“Yes, Mother.” It was a standing routine each of them used when she went out and the other remained at home. It was also something their mother always said to them.
“Be careful. It’s dark out there.”
“I’ll be careful. Go to sleep.”
“If you see Mr. Lord, tell him I said hello. Get his autograph for me, okay.”
Sara slammed the door so hard the cups rattled on the drain board.
Chapter Two
The engine of the powerful Jaguar throbbed as it gobbled up the miles on the way to Mandeville. Canyon and Dallas Lord’s palatial estate. It occurred to Sara to wonder how Nellie Pulaski had gotten such precise directions.
Why was she doing this? Was it because of the strange feelings she’d experienced when she looked into Dallas Lord’s eyes? Why was she doing this? There were at least fifty other people at the hospital who would have fought each other to deliver what was in her car. Nellie had to be behind this little venture in some way. When it came to matchmaking, Nellie was worse than her sister Carly. No, she contradicted herself. She was doing this because she wanted to do it. Dallas Lord touched something in her, something she’d thought was dead and buried. She’d felt something.
Sara lowered the window, taking great gulps of air. Until tonight she hadn’t thought about Eric Evans in a long time. Her first love. Her only love. She knew now that a first and only love didn’t mean it was true love. She’d never told anyone, not even Carly, about Eric, though she wasn’t sure why. He was an intern like herself when they first met. The attraction had been instantaneous and physical on her part. It had taken all of her willpower, physical as well as mental resources, to stay tuned to her profession. All she’d wanted in those early days of the relationship was to have Eric’s arms around her. The precious snatched minutes here and there when they made wild, passionate love in utility closets, supply rooms, and the dark, steamy basement had left her weak and dizzy. It had all gone bad in the second year when she realized Eric was helping himself to the drugs in the drug lockup. Her heart breaking, she’d confronted him. He’d lied, but then she’d been prepared for the lie, so she set a trap for him with the Chief of Staff, and he’d been caught red-handed, his promising medical career crashing down around him. She’d begged him to go into a treatment center and he’d laughed at her, saying cruel things that made her crawl into herself with shame. He’d left the hospital without even saying good-bye. Word got out because things like that always got out, and Dr. Sara Killian became a pariah within the confines of the hospital. With the help of the kindly Chief of Staff, she’d obtained an appointment back home in California and tried to put it all behind her. To this day she had no idea where Eric Evans was, nor did she care. Her other two affairs didn’t bear thinking about.
Was it possible that Dallas Lord reminded her of Eric Evans?
“This is stupid,” Sara muttered to herself. She eased up on the gas pedal until the powerful car slowed, allowing the two cars behind her to pass, then executed a perfect U-turn in the middle of the road. She drove for a mile before she slowed again and made a second U-turn, heading up to the canyon. She always finished what she started.
The Jag slowed a second time as she approached the turnoff Nellie had marked on her direction list. She listened a moment to the soft night sounds all about her. A dog barked somewhere to the right of the iron gates. She loved dogs. A lump formed in her throat when she remembered old Elmer, who had lived to be eighteen. Someday she was going to get a dog. Someday she was going to do a lot of things. Oh yeah.
The slice of moon overhead shone down on the hood ornament of the Jaguar poised in mid-leap. The sudden urge to spit and snarl startled her. Gritting her teeth, she slid from the car, her back end exposed as she leaned over to lift out the two packages on the passenger seat. When she turned around, the world was suddenly dark, the silver wedge of moon sliding behind a dark cloud. She waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness before she walked up to the massive iron gates. She was about to slide the packages between the metal spikes when a gentle voice said, “Stand back, Dr. Killian, so I can open the gates.”
“Oh, Mr. Lord, that isn’t necessary. I was going to slide the packages through the spokes. It’s late. I didn’t want to disturb you. I thought if I came by in the daylight there might be media here and . . . I didn’t want . . . I have things to do tomorrow ... I hope I didn’t wake you.” Damn, she was babbling like a schoolgirl. “Here,” she said thrusting the thick envelopes into Dallas Lord’s hands.
“It was kind of you to bring these up. I could have sent someone for them. Nancy and the kids left earlier for Chicago. I’ll send them on. Please, come in. Can I get you some coffee or maybe a glass of wine?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. Are you all right, Mr. Lord?”
“No. I was sitting out by the pool thinking. There’s no way I can sleep.”
“I can give you a sleeping pill. My bag is in the car.”
“I think I’m afraid to go to sleep. I don’t want to dream because dreams turn into nightmares. Reality is the lesser of the two evils.”
“Have you slept at all these past days?”
“Not really. Please, come in. How about some tea?. I really would like to talk to you and thank you for everything you did for Billy.”
“Well, all right, for a few minutes,” Sara capitulated. I’m doing this because he needs a friend, someone to talk to. For no other reason. “I thought reporters would be hanging out here.”
“They were. They’ll be back before it gets light. Do
n’t be surprised to see your car on the news tomorrow. I can lend you one of our Jeeps to ride back to town if you’re concerned about your privacy. They’re merciless. There’s this one guy who dogs me night and day. He actually earns a living getting pictures of me. No matter what I do, I can’t shake him.”
“This is a nice car,” Dallas said, settling himself in the passenger side of the Jaguar for the ride up to the main house.
“I call it my bon-bon. The truth is I think I bought it because of the hood ornament.”
“I do things like that. My brother is on my case all the time when I do things he considers frivolous. He’s the money man. I’m the music man. I hate all that financial stuff. It’s good, though. If Adam wasn’t in charge, Billy’s family could be wiped out. He’s got . . . the kids have to go to college. Billy never wanted Nancy to work. He wanted her with the kids all the time since we were on the road so much. Stability where kids are concerned is important. I just found out today Adam had Billy take out an insurance policy when he found out his dad had Alzheimer’s. I never would have thought of that and neither would Billy.”
“It’s good to have someone you can count on. My sister and I are like that. I’m really glad we’re close.”
“Adam and I aren’t close. Billy was more of a brother.” Dallas’s shoulders started to shake. “I don’t know what to do without him. When I got back from the cemetery I just wandered around for hours. I don’t think it has sunk in yet. Park in the garage. In the morning helicopters will be flying overhead.”
“Mr. Lord, I won’t be here in the morning.”
“I thought you were going to call me Dallas and I was going to call you Sara. You might change your mind. If not, I’ll simply open the garage door. Wanna sit by the pool and put your feet in the water? Billy and I used to do that all the time and drink root beer. That guy was so hooked on root beer. We even did a couple of endorsements so he could get the stuff free.”
“Okay.”
Sara garaged the car. She felt jittery when the door slammed downward. “Are you here alone?”
“The houseman left about a half hour ago. I’m alone. I told everyone I wanted some time to myself. Watch your step. Just follow the lighting. The pool’s down below. Are you on call or anything? The reason I asked is, I took the phone off the hook.”
“No, I’m not on call. Does your brother live with you?”
“Adam has his home base in New York. He has houses all over the country. His favorite is an old plantation house in South Carolina. If he ever retires, I think he’ll live there. He rarely comes here. We talk on the phone, that’s it. If he does come here to the coast, he stays in one of the guest cottages. He never stays more than a day or so. I tried to get close to him, but we have nothing in common. He’s in Hong Kong right now. I called and left a message about Billy. He didn’t return my call.”
“Perhaps he didn’t get the message. Hotels are . . . notorious for mixing things up.”
“Take off your shoes. The pool’s heated. Want a root beer?”
“I’d love a root beer.”
“Two root beers coming up. I put this refrigerator in the cabana just for Billy. The only thing in it is root beer. We started out with 2,500 cases of the stuff. We have 2,111 left. Adam had a fit when we made the commercial. It was the first time I did anything without his okay. We made a truckload of money from those commercials, too.”
Sara swigged from the bottle. “I like this. Lots of fizz. I bet I can burp louder than you can.” God, did I just say that?
Dallas smacked the palms of his hands on the tile. “Billy always used to say that. He could do a number that sounded like a bullfrog.” Sara laughed.
“What are you going to do now? Do you have plans? If you’d rather not talk about it or if you think it’s none of my business, it’s okay.”
“All I’ve been doing is thinking. Adam has us scheduled for a Pacific Rim tour. We just wound down from our European tour. The benefit was our last show. The PR tour starts in January. This is downtime. Time for the guys to be with their families. We’re all in a funk right now. No one wanted to talk about a replacement for Billy. If we decide to continue, it has to be done. Right now I don’t even know if I want to do this anymore. The guys feel the same way. It won’t be the same. We were our own family. Thanks to Adam, we could all retire tomorrow. It’s not the money.”
“It’s too soon to make heavy decisions like that. You have to allow yourself time to grieve and then you ask yourself what Billy would want you to do. There’s a healing time you have to go through. It’s another way of saying you take it one day at a time.”
“I don’t think I properly thanked you for all you did. The entire hospital staff bent over backward for me, and I know it. I told Mr. Heinrick I’d donate the money for a new wing to your hospital as long as he calls it the Billy Sweet wing. He said he would. That alone should bring Adam home on the run. He hates what he calls my philanthropic gestures. He says I don’t think things through. What’s to think through? If you want to give, you give. There’s no right or wrong time. Do you agree or disagree, Sara?”
“I’m really not the person to ask. I earn a paycheck every week and live on a budget. My charitable bequests are minimal. I think I agree with you, though.”
“You’re a nice person, Dr. Sara Killian. Your sister’s a nice person, too. Do you like music, Sara?”
“I love music. Carly and I sing in the church choir. Your music pretty much gives me a headache. I like ballads. You know, sweet, slow, gentle music that tears at your insides. Your music doesn’t make me feel romantic.”
“No kidding,” Dallas said, his face full of awe.
“Did I offend you?”
“No. Did you ever go to a rock concert?”
“No. My sister goes all the time. She’s hooked. I loved Elvis Presley. I guess that kind of dates me, huh?”
“Not at all. Elvis was Billy’s and my idol. In the beginning we tried to pattern ourselves after Elvis, but it didn’t work. It’s the way it should be. One Elvis. One Dallas. It’s the lights, the sound, the crowds. It gets in your blood. Music is my life.”
Sara smiled. “See, you just answered your own earlier question. You can’t give it up because it’s your life and in your blood. You know what they say about stopping to smell the roses.”
“How’d you get to be so smart?”
“I don’t know about the smart part. I think it’s more common sense. It’s getting late. I should be leaving, and you should be going to bed.”
“Don’t go. Would you like some breakfast? I can make scrambled eggs and bacon. Coffee or root beer. We could watch the sun come up. I haven’t had a one-on-one conversation with anyone for a long time. Are you seeing anyone?”
“No. Are you?”
“I was. It didn’t work for me. Your sister gave me some advice. I tried it out the day before the funeral and it wasn’t ... a good thing. My answer is no.” Sara laughed at the intensity in his voice.
“Do you think you’ll ever get married and settle down?” Sara asked curiously. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Dallas responded.
“Sure. It’s all I think about. I love kids. I keep hoping the right person walks into my life, and that I’m smart enough to know she’s the right person. Do you really want to know what I want?” Not bothering to wait for her reply, he said, “I want a house full of kids and animals and a goat outside. I always wanted a goat. I want my house to smell good, you know, like something’s cooking that will taste wonderful. I want dogs and cats running after the kids and a wife who will roll her eyes and hug me so tight I get tears in my eyes. Billy had that. Adam . . . Adam says I’m a sex symbol to millions of fans and my popularity will go downhill if I get married. Believe it or not, I’m a stay-at-home guy. I don’t get off on all of that wild stuff. Don’t believe my promo stuff. Adam puts that stuff out by the bushel. We go with the flow if you know what I mean.”
“Are you saying all that
stuff they print is lies?”
Dallas threw back his head and laughed. “Absolutely. The truth is the guys and I are so boring, we could put you to sleep. Take Chico for instance. He’s got Latin good looks and a love ‘em and leave ’em profile. The guy’s married with three beautiful little girls. He adores his wife, he plants tomatoes and bell peppers and builds model airplanes. He mows his own lawn and car pools when he’s home. We’re normal people. The fans don’t want normal people, so we pretend.”
“I don’t think I like your brother,” Sara blurted.
“Adam is okay. Everyone gets what they want. The fans are happy. The guys are happy. Adam’s happy.”
“Are you happy, Dallas?”
“As long as I have my music, I’m happy. Would you like to see my sound studio? Did you agree to breakfast or not?” He reached for her hand. Sara allowed it to be taken because it felt right.
“Yes to both. This is an enormous house. Do you entertain a lot?”
“Never! It has fourteen rooms. The grounds are about four acres, maybe a little more. I have two guest cottages and a five-car garage.” He stopped in mid-stride. “It’s not a home yet. It’s still a house. It doesn’t have all that stuff mothers and wives put around to make it look real. What’s your house look like?”
“Why don’t you come and see it. I have a lot of junk and green plants. Lots of books and magazines. I could give you my overflow. I’ve been thinking about getting an animal, but I’m not home that much. Carly’s never home either, so it wouldn’t be fair to the animal. The house was left to Carly and me by our parents. We kept everything the way it was because we grew up with the furnishings and we’re comfortable with things. This is pretty sad,” Sara said, looking around Dallas’s living room. He was still holding her hand. It still felt good, and it felt right. Did he move closer, or did she? She started to feel warm all over.
“I bet you’re going to hate my kitchen.”
A moment later, Sara gasped. “You’re right. It looks like an institution kitchen.”
Sara's Song Page 3
