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Those Baby Blues

Page 17

by Sheridon Smythe


  Treet's expression turned bleak. “So because of these remote possibilities, you're willing to ignore everything between us? You are a scaredy cat."

  Her chin rose. “Maybe I am, but that's not all of my concerns. We can't ignore the fact that you're who you are."

  "So we're on that subject again. Who I am doesn't matter to me, and it shouldn't matter to you. What does matter is that when I'm with you, I'm happier than I've been in a long time. When I kiss you, I'm mindless. When I touch you, I burn. When I'm standing next to you, all I can think about is how wonderful and sexy you smell, and how your eyes glitter like jewels—and that's my line, thank you. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you and anticipating the next time I see you."

  Stunned by his passionate outburst, Hadleigh could only stare wordlessly at his chiseled, beautiful features. His words frightened her, petrified her. Shaking her head, she backed away. “I can't talk about this anymore. You don't realize what you're saying. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Treet."

  He caught up with her before she reached the doorway, grabbing her arm to halt her flight. “Wait."

  It was a plea she couldn't ignore. So she waited, keeping her gaze from his face. She had no willpower when she looked at him.

  "I'm sorry for pushing you. I didn't mean—what I mean to say is, I hope I didn't scare you away. Will you still help me rehearse if I promise to be good?” He let go of her arm, but she didn't run.

  "I don't know if it's a good idea.” For lots and lots of reasons.

  "Then I'll call Todd tomorrow and let him know that I've decided not to take the part."

  It was a threat, plain and simple. She closed her eyes and muttered a curse beneath her breath. Instinct warned her that she was making a mistake, but she heard herself saying the words anyway. “Okay. I'll help you."

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  Chapter Sixteen

  Hadleigh came awake to a sudden pressure on her chest and the sound of a girlish giggle. Sam, she thought, keeping her eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. It was a game she and Sam played often.

  "Mommy?” Sam whispered. “Are you awake?"

  "No,” Hadleigh whispered back, barely moving her lips. Because of the pressure on her chest, she easily pictured Sam leaning over her, staring into her face.

  "I found Bo Bo."

  It took a moment for Hadleigh to recall who Bo Bo was. When she did, she smiled. “Oh, the turtle.” She'd forgotten about the turtle, which wasn't surprising. Treet could make a girl forget her own name. A turtle didn't stand a chance—especially a turtle that had a penchant for hiding. “Where did you find him?"

  "Under your bed."

  "So where is he now?"

  "On your chest, silly!"

  Hadleigh's eyes popped open. She stared straight into the reptilian eyes of the monstrous turtle a full thirty seconds before she managed to squeak, “Sam, get this—this thing off me!"

  With an impish giggle, Sam removed the turtle and set him on the floor. “Go on now, Bo Bo. Mommy doesn't like you."

  Flustered—and who wouldn't be?—Hadleigh sat up, peering over the edge of the bed to watch as the turtle began his ponderous journey to the door. She wasn't imagining things, and Treet hadn't lied; the turtle was the size of a small pizza.

  She put a hand over her thundering heart and shot Sam a stern look. “Sam, promise me that you will never do that to me again."

  Sam pouted, but agreed. “Okay, I promise.” She perked up immediately. “I came to tell you that Treet wants me and Caroline to go to town with him, and he wants to know if you wanna come too."

  Without hesitation, Hadleigh shook her head. After last night she wasn't even certain she could face Treet, let alone spend the day with him.

  "Well Caroline doesn't want to go, neither."

  "You mean ‘either'. Why not?” Hadleigh flung the covers aside and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, her heart-beat finally returning to normal. Bo Bo had made it to the door, and was now lumbering across the threshold.

  "She doesn't like the way people stare at her daddy. She says it scares her.” Sam sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “She said if you don't go, she's gonna stay with you. Will it hurt your feelings, Mommy, if I go with Treet?"

  "What's the occasion?"

  It took Sam a moment to figure out the meaning to that question. Finally, she said, “If that means what I think it means, then we're gonna go get cat food and cat litter, and a nice bed for the kittens. Oh, and Trudy says she needs nilla favors."

  Hadleigh smiled. “You mean, vanilla flavoring?"

  Sam nodded vigorously. “She's gonna make cookies."

  Thinking this was the perfect opportunity to go fishing, Hadleigh asked, “Sam ... you do like Treet, don't you? You're not just pretending so that Caroline can spend time with me while you spend time with Treet?"

  With perfect seriousness, Sam said, “He's okay. Can I go?"

  Hadleigh couldn't find a logical reason to say no, and Sam appeared to be genuinely excited about the trip. “Okay, but you'd better be good. Mind your manners, too."

  As usual when getting her way, Sam beamed happily. “I will, and I promised Caroline I wouldn't let anyone hurt her daddy."

  "My fierce warrior,” Hadleigh teased, laughing when Sam glared at her. She threw a pillow at her and Sam threw it back, missing the bed by a couple of yards. “I'm sure Brutal will be there to guard Treet, so you can relax and have fun."

  Sam snorted. “That big ole baby? He doesn't scare anybody!"

  Long after her daughter had disappeared, Hadleigh continued to chuckle over Sam's declaration as she made the bed and brushed her teeth. Brutal's ego would be crushed to hear Sam's scornful description of him.

  She choose a pair of faded, comfortable jeans and a plain tee-shirt, wondering if Caroline and Sam were simply ‘trading’ parents again, or if Caroline truly was afraid to go out in public with her daddy. What a sad thought! Did Treet know about Caroline's fears? Had something terrible happened to make her fearful?

  Well, she'd just have to find out for herself, Hadleigh decided, slipping on a pair of sandals. She ran a brush through her unevenly cropped hair. Hoping she'd given Treet enough time to leave, she went in search of Caroline.

  She found her with the kittens, attempting to coax them to drink milk from a saucer. “Aren't you hungry?” Caroline crooned, gently pushing a whiskered face into the milk.

  Hadleigh, standing behind her, grinned as the distraught kitten let out a loud meow and struggled to save himself from drowning. “Caroline."

  Caroline glanced around, flashing Hadleigh a sunny smile that went straight to Hadleigh's heart. “Oh, hi, Haddy. I'm glad you didn't go with them to town.” Her big brown eyes suddenly clouded. “I don't like the way people stare at Daddy, and sometimes they chase him.” With the innocence of a four-year-old, she added, “I don't think they like my daddy."

  "Oh, sweetheart!” Hadleigh came to her knees and gently freed the kitten, putting it back in the box with its siblings. She pulled Caroline closer. “Surely your daddy has talked to you about this? People love your daddy because he's famous. That's why they act strange when they see him."

  Her new-found daughter didn't look convinced. “They scream and shout at him, and wave their fists around in the air like this.” Caroline lifted her arm and pumped her fist up and down, screwing her face into a comical mimic of what she had apparently witnessed. The expression looked like anger on Caroline; Hadleigh suspected that on a fan, it would resemble incredible excitement, perhaps even a crazed excitement.

  An understandable mistake for a young child to make.

  "You should have told your daddy how you felt,” Hadleigh chided gently. “Then he could have explained why people react the way they do when they see him."

  "You didn't act that way,” Caroline pointed out.

  Swallowing a chuckle, Hadleigh shook her head. “No, I didn't, but that's because I know your daddy, and I know he's just a regular
guy.” A regular guy with heart-stopping buns, incredible blue eyes, and a mouth out of this world. She could have gone on and on, but this wasn't the time or place to recall Treet's considerable assets.

  "So they like him?"

  Hadleigh nodded.

  "And they don't want to hurt him?” This time Caroline sounded a little more hopeful.

  "No, they don't want to hurt him, although sometimes people get carried away and...” She bit down hard on her wayward tongue. No sense confusing Caroline at this early age with shades of gray.

  She stared solemnly into Hadleigh's eyes as she whispered, “Then I wished I had went with them. I think I hurt Daddy's feelings when I told him I didn't want to go."

  Caroline looked so grown-up in her regret that Hadleigh decided she had to do something. She straightened and smiled down at her. “Why don't we see if Mr. Spencer will give us a lift into town? I don't think it's too late to join them, do you?” Maybe now that she had explained, Caroline would see her daddy's devoted followers in a new light.

  * * * *

  Burlington, Montana wasn't a big town, but since it boasted the only Super Dollar Mart within a fifty-mile radius, Saturday was generally the town's busiest shopping day of the week. Local restaurants were crowded with hungry shoppers; the streets were packed with an odd assortment of farm trucks, Park Avenues, and economy-sized cars.

  And inside Super Dollar Mart, the manager, Enis Redmond, had a situation on his hands.

  Five minutes, Treet thought with understandable irritation as he watched the terrified manager bolt his office door against the unruly crowd of women and children. Five lousy friggin’ minutes inside the store and he'd been recognized by an elderly blue-haired lady who looked at least a hundred and five.

  She hadn't possessed the lungs of an elderly woman, Treet recalled, trying to find a smidgen of humor in their familiar situation.

  Mr. Redmond stood with his back pressed against his office door—which shook from the force of the women fighting to get inside—his thinning hair sticking up, his glasses fogged from his agitated breathing.

  He glanced wildly from Sam's wide-eyed, fiercely frowning face, to Treet and Brutal's resigned expressions. Gathering himself, he tested the lock again and carefully moved away from the door.

  "I'm honored by your visit, Mr. Miller,” he began in a high-pitched voice. “But did you have to pick this Saturday?"

  Treet merely lifted a brow, waiting for the shaken man to explain. He gave Sam's hand a reassuring squeeze. She squeezed it back as if to give him comfort.

  Reminding himself that this was the price of fame didn't quell his irritation much.

  "It's ... we're having a half-price sale on lingerie."

  "We just wanted to buy a litter box, Mister,” Sam said staunchly, moving closer to Treet. “And some cat food for our kitties."

  Brutal crossed his arms, his face impassive. “I'll need help getting them out of here.” He picked up the phone from the desk. “You'll need to call the local police. Tell them you've got a riot on your hands."

  "A—a riot?” Mr. Redmond squeaked. He tugged at his tie, then pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face. “But we're having a sale...” His voice faded, and then gathered strength again. “You'll have to excuse me; I've never been in this situation before."

  Taking in the manager's unhealthy pallor, Treet experienced a surge of familiar guilt. He hated causing a scene, but it invariably happened wherever he went. “I'm sorry, Mr. Redmond. I thought—well, I was hoping to get in and out before I was recognized."

  Mr. Redmond nodded. “I'm sure you meant no harm. I'd better call the police,” he muttered, taking the phone from Brutal. “That crowd is probably using this opportunity to steal me blind."

  Treet felt Sam tugging on his hand. He looked down at her, into big blue eyes shining with fierce determination. His heart did a triple somersault; his hand tightened around hers.

  "Don't worry, Treet,” she whispered loudly. “I'm not gonna let them hurt ya. I promised Caroline I wouldn't."

  Before Treet could respond to her strange declaration, the manager hung up the phone and turned to them. “The sheriff said he'd be right over."

  "How many men is he bringing?” Brutal asked.

  "Let me see ... I think he's got four men, maybe five. Bruce broke his leg a while back, and I don't know if he's back to work—"

  "That won't be enough.” Brutal jerked his head in the direction of the shaking door. Shouts and screams—interspersed with colorful curses—could be heard through the thick wood. “How many do you think are out there?"

  The manager ran a distracted, nervous hand through what little hair he possessed. “Oh, I'd say thirty, maybe forty. The whole town probably knows by now."

  Brutal groaned and shook his head.

  * * * *

  "There sure is a lot of people at this store,” Caroline said the moment she and Hadleigh entered through the big glass doors fronting the store.

  "Yes, there certainly—” Hadleigh stopped dead, mouth agape at the thick crowd of women and children huddled at the back of the store. They were shouting and jumping up and down, jostling each other as if they were a pack of dogs fighting over a bone.

  It didn't take her long to understand what they were shouting, and it took even less time to figure out what must have gotten them in this agitated state.

  "Damn,” Hadleigh muttered beneath her breath. But Caroline apparently heard her.

  "My daddy says that sometimes when he's mad. Are you mad, Haddy?” She craned her neck, trying to see over the cash registers. “Do you see Daddy and Sam anywhere? What are they doing over there? Is someone hurt?” Her breath caught. “Is it my daddy, Haddy? Is he hurt?"

  "No, sweetheart. I'm sure your daddy is fine.” Hadleigh didn't feel that sure, and her alarm escalated when she remembered that Sam was with Treet, which meant—

  She tugged on Caroline's hand, leading her to the edge of the crowd. Next to them, a toddler bounced and bobbed on his mother's hip. Hadleigh pecked the mother on the shoulder. “What's going on?” she shouted.

  The woman barely glanced at Hadleigh before jealously closing the slight gap between herself and her neighbor. “Treet Miller's in there!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  "Where?” Hadleigh's second question earned a hostile, irritated glare from the excited mother.

  "In the manager's office!” Her smile was fanatical. “But he's gotta come out sometime!"

  Getting a stronger grip on Caroline's hand, Hadleigh tried to make a path. “Let us through!"

  "No way, sister!"

  "Are you nuts?"

  "I was here first!” Another woman hissed at Hadleigh, shoving her back.

  Stunned, Hadleigh caught her balance before she plowed into Caroline, who she had thrust protectively behind her. “Now wait a damned minute—” she began, her temper fraying.

  But it was Caroline's scream that finally got everyone's attention. They might have been star-crazed, but they were, first and foremost, mothers, daughters, grandmothers, and nurturers at heart.

  The sound of Caroline's scream broke through their temporary wall of insanity. One by one, they grew quiet. Heads turned in their direction, angling this way and that, trying to see whose child had screamed with such ferocity, and why.

  Caroline glared at them, red-faced and panting. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her bottom lip quivered endearingly. “I want to see my daddy!” she shouted. “So you'd better get out of our way, or I'll—I'll—” She stopped, clearly lost at this point. But she'd gotten their attention, however brief.

  It was a startled moment before someone in the crowd asked, “Who's your daddy, sweetheart? Are you lost?"

  "She doesn't look familiar,” another one said. “I don't know who she belongs too."

  "She's a doll, whoever she is."

  Caroline took a deep, shaky breath, and Hadleigh took one with her. She suspected what Caroline was about to say, and she wasn't at all sure it w
as a good idea.

  Pointing her finger in the general direction of the office door, Caroline said clearly and distinctly, “My daddy's in there, and I want to see him."

  The woman with the toddler attached to her hip threw back her head and laughed. Hadleigh decided that violence must be contagious, because she sure felt like belting her one.

  "Honey, unless your daddy's Treet Miller, he's not in there."

  "My daddy is Treet Miller,” Caroline shouted, stamping her foot.

  Hadleigh knew the signs of a tantrum only too well, and Caroline appeared to be on the verge of one. It was time to clear a path, she decided, and if she had to knock a few senseless heads together ... well, so be it.

  "All right, ladies. You heard her. She wants her daddy, so I suggest you let us by.” They made it past the first row of women before someone grabbed Hadleigh's sleeve.

  "And just who are you?" a snarling voice demanded.

  "None of your business,” Hadleigh snarled right back, jerking free.

  After that, the crowd grudgingly let them through. They reached the door without a scratch. Hadleigh turned to glare at the grumbling crowd, clutching Caroline protectively to her.

  For a long moment, she scanned the flushed, excited faces of the women. She could feel Caroline trembling, no doubt traumatized anew.

  Dammit!

  She didn't know where she found the courage, or the words, but they seemed to flow without hesitation, spoken in a strong, angry tone that carried across the mumbling crowd. “You are all mostly grown women, I see, but you're acting like children. It's because of scenes like this that Caroline is afraid to go anywhere with her father. She believes you want to hurt him."

  A surprised murmur swept over the crowd.

  Hadleigh nodded. “Yes, she does, and who could blame her? You're screaming and shouting and pushing one another—recklessly endangering your own children! What if one of them gets trampled? And for what? A glimpse of a movie star, if you're lucky?"

  One brave soul spoke up. “We just want an autograph!"

  Another cried, “Yeah, easy for you to say! You obviously get to see more of him than we do!"

 

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