by MJ Fredrick
Beth collapsed in her deck chair at three in the morning, a bottle of diet root beer beside her and the mosquito-repellent lantern burning beside her. Today had been rough. After she’d gathered herself after leaving Quinn’s, she’d called Jonathan’s mother, and arranged to meet her before she went in for one of her last shifts at Quinn’s.
The woman hadn’t been particularly sympathetic.
“If Linda had given up the baby as she and Jonathan decided, the adoptive couple would have paid all the hospital expenses,” Mrs. Bomer pointed out.
“I understand, but this is Jonathan’s child, too. We wouldn’t be in this position—”
“If your sister hadn’t wagged her tail at him.”
Beth’s face heated. “Teen-agers—”
“You could at least have put her on the pill.”
“She’s been on the pill since she was fourteen.” But she didn’t always remember to take it, the little fool. “That’s all water under the bridge. The fact remains, Jonathan has a responsibility to this child.”
Mrs. Bomer’s face hardened. “He signed away his responsibility when he signed the adoption papers. He doesn’t want anything to do with Linda or the baby.”
“This is your grandchild, Mrs. Bomer. Don’t you want to be a part of his life? He’s a sweet little boy and needs lots of love. You can just dismiss him like this?”
The older woman leaned forward. “Jonathan has a future. He’s going to college. We’ve planned for this all his life. He doesn’t need a baby or a girl holding him back. I’m sorry, Beth, but you girls decided to keep the baby. He’s your responsibility.”
The conversation had so closely mirrored the one they’d had when Linda had turned up pregnant, Beth didn’t know why she was surprised. But now her precious little Jonas would grow up without either set of grandparents.
Just like she had, and she’d turned out, well, she’d turned out.
Later, Trinity Madison had walked up to her in the bar, when she was unloading a tray of dirty glasses. The other woman barely spoke to her as a rule, more because, well, Trinity had friends and Beth didn’t, so Beth was speechless for a minute. That gave Trinity the time to launch into her spiel.
“Quinn tells me you need a babysitter, and I’m out of school now, and as you guessed, pregnant. I could sure use the practice.”
Beth looked past the pretty blonde to where Quinn and Leo Erickson, Trinity’s fiancé, stood at the far end of the bar, pretending they had no idea what was going on.
Her first instinct was to say no. She didn’t accept help from other people, wasn’t beholden to other people, because she wasn’t able to return the favor. But she was in pretty desperate straits here. She looked back at Trinity, with her earnest eyes and folded hands. She almost couldn’t make the acceptance leave her mouth. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t pay you.”
Trinity’s face brightened. “I don’t need you to. Like I said, I need the practice.”
Beth jabbed a thumb in Leo’s direction. “Don’t you have a wedding you should be planning?”
Trinity waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not like it’s going to be a grand wedding or anything. Very simple. And it will just be while your sister’s in school, right? She’ll take over after that?”
Beth resisted the urge to close her eyes. One more reason she didn’t ask for help. She didn’t want others to know how irresponsible Linda could be. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Trinity said. “I’ll talk to her.”
That would make Linda so happy, a stranger talking to her about her responsibilities. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to,” Trinity said, placing a cool white hand on Beth’s wrist. “Seriously. I would have offered before, but I just got out for summer vacation. I have time on my hands. Let me do this, Beth.”
Right. Trinity was the counselor at the elementary school. Beth wished that made her feel better about accepting help, but all it did was make her feel more vulnerable.
“I’ll talk to Linda,” Beth said again, and turned to get back to work.
Maddox had come in then, and chaos had reigned for the next few hours. She hadn’t even seen Dale in the crowd. Her head pounded with her own thoughts and the music of the man who kept her emotions tumbling.
But she’d brought home three times the money she usually did.
Had she made a mistake leaving Quinn’s for the casino? No, of course she hadn’t. Maddox would be moving on soon. It was nice to see how he was bringing people to town, bringing people into Quinn’s. All of Bluestone seemed busier, happier. But would it last?
Maddox stood on the deck of the lake house he’d rented and looked out over Bluestone Lake. The fifth-wheel was nice, but he wanted something roomier. Something more permanent. Stairs led from the deck to a green lawn that met up with the lapping waves. A dock extended a bit beyond that, into water deep enough for the fishing boat he’d rented. Behind him, the lake house boasted a master bedroom with its own access to the deck, a glassed-in shower, a claw-foot tub, a state-of-the-art kitchen, and a loft. The whole front of the place was glass, and the rest was log.
A perfect place to spend the summer.
Except—was he really ready to stay here all summer? He had the big show on the Fourth of July in Texas, and a few smaller venues out west. But this place pulled at him, wanted to hold him here.
Beth pulled at him. Maybe if he had a place to stay, to make his home, she’d let him get close once again. She’d let him into her life, though from where he stood, this seemed like the worst time to try, with her distracted by money and jobs and her nephew. And there was the doctor boyfriend, who wasn’t much of a boyfriend, if you asked Maddox. The man could be making her life easier, and where was he? He was probably a better man than Maddox, minding his own business the way Beth liked it, but that wasn’t love.
He didn’t know if what he felt was, either. The fact that he hadn’t been in a relationship since he’d quit drinking scared the hell out of him. And the one he’d been in before that, with Jessie, who had her own personal self-destruct button, had been hell on earth. The possibility for mistakes was enormous. But if he didn’t try, he’d never know. He hadn’t even wanted to try before he saw Beth again.
He hadn’t been to an AA meeting in a while. He wasn’t sure he wanted to seek one out up here—he always worried about his privacy. But maybe he should call his sponsor. Anthony was about fifteen years older than him, eight years sober, and had survived the darkest days with his marriage intact. He’d been the first to warn Maddox about getting involved, and he’d probably have something to say about Maddox getting involved with someone who had so much on her own plate.
Maddox took a deep breath and drew his cell phone out of his pocket. Better to hear it from the horse’s mouth than try to figure out what Anthony would say.
“Where are you?” Anthony said by way of greeting.
“Bluestone Lake.”
“Running away?”
Like he expected anything other than bluntness from Anthony. When they’d met, Maddox had been pretty damned arrogant. Yes, he was a drunk, but he was also a star and he’d come to expect certain treatment from people he’d met—awe or deference or at least respect. Anthony had given him none of those things, had said what was on his mind. Nothing had changed in the last two years.
“Gathering my thoughts,” Maddox said.
Anthony grunted.
“Going to stay here a while. I rented a house. Going to do some fishing. You should come up.”
“God knows I couldn’t sit still long enough to catch anything.”
That was true. Anthony drank a hell of a lot of coffee, and jittered more than anyone Maddox had ever met.
“Did you call me to give me your whereabouts, or do you have something on your mind?”
As often as he’d gone to Anthony for help, Maddox was taken aback by the man’s bluntness. “I have
something on my mind.”
“You going to make me guess?”
“A woman I used to know, used to date. She still lives here.”
“Still making me guess, Bradley?”
“I—she—it’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone.”
“You asking my permission to get laid? Because you’ve done that without my permission before.”
“Yeah, not—only that.”
“What, date her?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
“This is someone you dated in the past?”
“Yeah, when I was a teenager, before I left for Nashville.”
“Let me tell you something about revisiting the past. It doesn’t mean you can change who you became.”
“What?” Maddox hadn’t expected Anthony to be overly enthusiastic, but he wasn’t sure what the older man meant.
“I mean, you go back to someone who knew you before. Who knew you before you were drunk Maddox. You can’t change that you became a drunk by going back in time.”
“I’m not—” He started to protest. Was he?
“She’s familiar, she’s from a happy time in your life. You can’t recreate it, son.”
“She might—it might be good for me. She needs help.”
“And you’re the one to do that? I don’t think you’re in that place, Maddox.”
“But if I do help her, won’t it help me?”
“So what’s your motivation here, Maddox? When you figure that out, call me back.”
Maddox looked at the phone a long moment after the call ended. Anthony had been right almost every time before. But something in Maddox wanted to prove him wrong this time. He was ready to take a chance, step out on his own.
Word about Maddox renting the Barclay place spread quickly throughout Bluestone. Beth heard it when she was walking out of the grocery store. She had no idea what it meant. So he was tired of staying in the RV—though she knew how roomy it was, and rumor had it that it even had its own washer and dryer. Or he wanted a better view of the lake, or more privacy. It had nothing to do with her. He certainly had enough money to do with as he wished.
She only wished that knowing he was staying in town didn’t give her a thrill.
He hunted her down before her shift and followed her to the back where she stashed her purse. She blocked him from following her into the office, so he stood in the doorway.
“I’m staying until July.”
“I heard.” She kept her gaze averted as she locked her purse into the bottom drawer of Quinn’s desk.
He blew out an impatient breath, as if he was expecting another reaction. “So you don’t have to go work at the casino. We can get you decent enough tips here.”
She straightened and glared at him across Quinn’s desk. She had to keep her temper up so she didn’t think about how delicious he looked standing there. She couldn’t afford that weakness. “What is it to you whether or not I work at the casino?”
“Because I saw you crying when you walked out of Quinn’s office the other day. I know you don’t want to drive an hour a day to work in that hole, no matter what money can be made.”
His derision of the place and his assertion of her weakness put her back up higher. “I wasn’t crying.”
He crimped his lips to show what he thought of that declaration. “Trying hard not to. You forget how well I know you, Beth.”
She raised her chin. He didn’t know her anymore. Maybe he thought he did, but he was wrong. He hadn’t been here through all the changes she’d had to go through. “It’s already done. Tomorrow’s my last night here.”
“And Trinity? Is she babysitting for you?”
Her gaze sharpened. “You knew about that, too? I swear, the men in this town are worse than a bunch of old ladies.”
He shifted in the doorway. “Hell, if I thought it would help, I’d babysit.”
“No. Thank you.” Just what she needed, more contact with Maddox, seeing how adept he was at handling Jonas, watching how he soothed the baby, the strong caring for the weak.
“I’m good with kids.”
She’d witnessed that for herself. She moved around the desk. She needed to get out on the floor, but he hadn’t moved out of the doorway. “Trinity will be just fine, thanks.”
“If you change your mind.”
The way he was looking at her, that knowing half-smile, the crinkled eyes. “I won’t.” She walked into the ladies’ room and closed the door in his face.
Trinity checked the clock when she heard the key in the lock of Beth’s front door. Almost four p.m. She was wiped—who knew one little baby could take more energy than a school full of children? Beth had left around one to go around the lake to the casino for some orientation, and Trinity had had her bridal magazines packed in her tote since two, and was looking forward to going home and taking a nap.
She stood and waited for the door to open, arms folded. “You’re late,” she said when Linda waltzed in.
“Not that late,” Linda said, putting her book bag down on the table, her mouth in a stubborn line.
“Summer school is out at two. Almost two hours ago.”
“I had to walk home.”
“Which took maybe ten minutes without stops.” She edged closer, wanting to see if she could smell alcohol on Linda’s breath. She couldn’t, but thought she got whiff of men’s cologne.
Linda shrugged and dropped onto the couch facing the TV, avoiding Trinity. “So I made some stops.” As if an afterthought, she looked up. “Is Jonas asleep?”
“He should be waking up soon.” Trinity sat on the chair across from the couch and leaned forward to look in the girl’s face. “Let’s get one thing clear. I’m doing this as a favor, but I’m not going to be a sucker. I’ll babysit until two-thirty for free. After that, I’m going to charge you. I think the going rate is eight dollars an hour.”
“I don’t have any money,” the girl said petulantly.
“I don’t care. You made this choice to keep this baby. He’s your responsibility, not your sister’s. She may give you leeway, but I’m not going to.”
Linda flung herself against the back of the couch. “God, who knew you were such a bitch?”
Trinity drew back a little. “You go on believing that. I’m doing this as a favor to your sister, not to you. But I’m not going to take any garbage from a spoiled little girl who can’t follow through on her promises.”
“Spoiled?” Linda sat up at that. “You’ve seen this place. Does this look like I’m spoiled to you?”
“It looks like your sister has done a damned good job providing for you. You should be grateful.” Trinity stood and picked up her purse from the end table. “I’ll be back at eight tomorrow.”
Beth did her best to avoid eye contact with anyone at the bar that night, her last night at Quinn’s. Her emotions were too raw. She knew she needed to do this, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. And though Maddox had only been in town a few days, already his music, his rough, soothing voice, was part of this place that she was leaving. Just hearing his songs made her heart ache.
Okay, enough. She wasn’t moving to the other side of the lake. She was just leaving a job she loved for a job she hated to keep her father from coming back here, and to keep her sister’s baby. Yeah, nothing to feel sorry for herself about there. She cleared another table and turned, almost crashing into Dale, who stood in her path with his hands on his hips.
“I had to hear about you leaving Quinn’s from Quinn?”
She huffed out a breath. “Well, you haven’t been around and I don’t exactly have time to go looking for you.”
“Don’t have time or won’t make time? You’ve been avoiding me ever since that kiss, Beth.”
She ducked her head. She had, that was true. “You want everything to change, and I just can’t deal with it right now.”
“If it changes, I can help you. That’s what couples do. They help each other.”
S
he blew out a breath. “I’m a waitress, you’re a doctor. How can I possibly help you?”
His shoulders eased and a half-smile teased his lips. He scooped her hair back from her face, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. “By loving me, Beth.”
She wanted to. He was a good man, gentle, he let her have the space she needed, never meddled, but…Her heart squeezed as she looked into his eyes and wished she could see something different.
“I just can’t figure it all out right now, Dale. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Wow. She’d heard of someone being crushed before, but she’d never seen it in action. His face slackened and he stepped back, pain in his brown eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to him with one hand, but someone bumped into her tray and she withdrew her hand to steady it. When she looked up, Dale was gone.
And Maddox Bradley was watching her through the crowd.
When she walked out of Quinn’s at two thirty, Maddox was waiting by the rail of the porch, his cap tucked into his back pocket, his hair flipping up all over.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting to walk you home.”
“I already told you. I like being by myself.”
“Not tonight.” He motioned for her to precede him down the steps.
“Why not? You have more meddling planned?”
“What are you talking about?”
She held out her cell phone, screen first, to show him missed calls from both her brothers. “You want to tell me why they’re calling me now when they haven’t called me in months?”
“Months? Now that’s just shameful.” He tucked his hands in his jean pockets and matched her step for step down the wooden planks to the parking lot.
“Maddox. What did you do?”
He shrugged and worked to keep his balance on the shifting gravel. “I called to let them know they needed to check in.”
“And to get both of them to call within—” she checked the screen. “Thirty minutes of each other?”
