Blue Ridge Sunrise

by Denise Hunter

Zoe blinked dazedly, watching him walk away with the signs. Her pulse skittered, and something unfurled inside her. Something warm and pleasant. Something that made her smile from the inside out.

  She should be cross at him. He’d been high-handed and bossy, and she never tolerated either. But he’d just given up what must amount to a couple weeks’ pay, and he’d done it to keep her from kissing anyone else.

  She touched her lips with trembling fingertips. The kiss had been hard and angry. But darned if it wasn’t the best one she’d had all day long.

  chapter twelve

  Cruz never should’ve lost his temper at the kissing booth. It had taken Zoe about two seconds to figure him out. When he ran into her at church the next Sunday there was a knowing look in her eyes. In the sardonic brow she arched, in the curl of her lip. Yes siree. She was on to him. But instead of facing it head on as he might expect, she took a different approach.

  She drove him downright crazy.

  When he ran into her on the street she tossed him coy looks, put an extra wiggle in her walk, winked at him. When she sang love songs with Brevity she sidled up to Kyle, gazing up at him like he was her salvation. She ran the backs of her fingers down his face as she sang until Cruz was ready to lock her in her room. Oh, yeah. The little minx knew what she was doing.

  On nights she didn’t sing she danced with other guys. Lots of guys, snuggling up close while giving Cruz Watcha gonna do about it? looks over their shoulders.

  He’d stop going to the Rusty Nail, that’s what he was going to do. A man could only take so much. But he swore she must be privy to his schedule, because he was always running into her when she was on a date. He tried not to let her behavior get to him, but seeing her with other guys made him want to put a fist through a wall.

  In the fall Brady went back to school for his sophomore year, leaving Cruz a little bereft. Cruz’s mom had gotten on at the Blue Moon Grill and was making good tips. She was also dating a nice businessman from Atlanta and seemed to be on her way to an engagement.

  In the winter Cruz got a promotion, along with a raise, at the hardware store, and at twenty-one he was finally able to get his own place. It was only an apartment above the Mitchell Construction office, across the street from the Rusty Nail, but it was his. With his mom finally settling into a secure life, his first taste of independence was sweet.

  He’d been looking forward to having Brady over when spring break came, but the Collins family decided it was the perfect time to take Granny out to California to visit her brother and his grown kids. Zoe stayed behind because Brevity had a gig in Atlanta, and their regular backup singer had just had a baby.

  Tonight the band was playing at the Rusty Nail, so Cruz found himself alone in his apartment. He rinsed off his lone dish from supper and stuck it in the dishwasher. Hiding from a little slip of a girl, that’s what he was doing.

  Idiota.

  He was shoving the dishwasher closed when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen and saw Brady’s name.

  “Hey, buddy. How’s California?”

  “Where are you?” Brady’s voice was raw and tense.

  “At my new place. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Mom.” The last word sounded squeezed from his throat.

  “What happened?” Cruz waited, heart stuttering, for Brady to collect himself.

  “There was a-an accident. We were riding bikes. Someone ran a red light and hit Mom. She’s—” Brady broke down.

  The sound of his sobs about ripped Cruz’s heart out. “Take a breath, amigo,” he said a minute later. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get through this.”

  “She didn’t make it, Cruz.” His voice broke. “She’s gone.”

  The words made him freeze. Oh, no. Oh, man.

  Zoe. She was going to be destroyed. She and her mom were close, often allied against her father.

  But what kind of a friend was he, thinking about Zoe when his friend was weeping on the other end of the line?

  Cruz grabbed the hair at his nape. “Oh, buddy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  He pictured Mrs. Collins with her regal posture and kind blue eyes. She wasn’t the warmest mother, especially not when he compared her to his own mama, but she’d always been good-natured and fair.

  “Are you all right? I mean, did anyone else get hurt?”

  “Just minor stuff. Scratches and bruises, that’s all. Dad’s a mess. And Granny . . .”

  “Aw, man.” Nellie Russell only had one other daughter, Brady’s birth mom. But she was who-knew-where, strung out on drugs. He couldn’t even imagine what the woman was feeling. Didn’t want to.

  Brady sniffled and seemed to be making an effort to pull himself together. “You . . . you have to go find Zoe.”

  His heart sank as his breath left his lungs. “She’s at the Rusty Nail. Brevity is playing tonight.” He checked his watch. They didn’t start till nine, and it was quarter till now.

  “Can you go get her?”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. You . . . you want me to tell her?” Please, no. He could hardly bear the thought of breaking her heart.

  “She should hear it from me. But I don’t want her to be alone when I tell her, and with all our family out here . . .”

  “Okay. All right. I’ll go get her and I’ll call you back.”

  He jabbed off his phone, slid on his shoes, and moved toward the door. He was in a desperate fog as he took the outdoor stairs.

  Dios ayudarles. Help her.

  The muggy air pressed against his skin, and his breaths came short and fast. He crossed the deserted street, following the thumping bass that carried through the night air.

  Once inside the Rusty Nail he pushed his way through the pressing crowd. The band hadn’t gone on yet, and “Don’t Stop Believing” blared from the speakers. But over all the heads he saw that the group was mingling side-stage. His eyes skimmed for Zoe, and he found her chatting with the drummer. She tossed her head back, laughing, and his heart squeezed tight at the wreckage this news would cause.

  “Hey!” someone said as Cruz jostled him aside, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone or respond to greetings he barely even heard. His eyes were laser-focused on Zoe.

  And then he was behind her. “Zoe.” His throat closed up, tightening around her name.

  He cleared his throat, touched her shoulder, and raised his voice over the music. “Zoe.”

  She turned, surprise flickering in her eyes before she remembered how things were between them.

  She lifted a brow and tilted her head.

  “You have to come with me.”

  She gave a sharp laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m about to go on, Cruz.” She turned around to resume her conversation.

  He took her elbow and leaned forward. “I know, but you’ll have to excuse yourself. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “Now? You need to talk to me now?”

  Kyle planted a palm on Cruz’s shoulder and shoved. “Get lost, pal. She doesn’t want you. Come on, Zoe. It’s time.”

  She turned toward the stage.

  “Zoe, something’s happened. You have to talk to Brady. It can’t wait.”

  Her brow puckered, and worry flashed in her eyes. “Brady is . . . Brady’s in California—”

  “I know. He just called me.”

  She looked into his eyes for a long, painful moment. Must’ve seen the dread and the pity that twisted his gut, because the worry in her eyes morphed into fear.

  “I have to go,” she called to Kyle.

  Cruz ushered her through the crowd, his hand on the small of her back. He was vaguely aware of Kyle pitching a fit behind them. The music soon swallowed his protests. Cruz pushed open the door, and they spilled out into the night.

  The instant they were outside, Zoe spun toward him. “Cruz, what happened?”

  Dread beat up into his throat. He took her elbow and pulled her across the street. “Let’s go to my place. Brady wants
you to call him.”

  He pulled her forward.

  “Tell me!”

  They were almost to the stairs leading up the side of his building when she stopped, her feet planted on the ground. She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Her eyes clashed with his in a battle he couldn’t fight with her. Not tonight.

  She fished in her pockets. For her phone, he realized. But she must’ve left it back at the restaurant, because she gave a little growl. “Tell me!”

  Now she’d have to come up to his place. “Come on, Zoe,” he said gently.

  He started up the steps, leaving her little choice but to follow.

  She grabbed his arm, halting him on the first step. “Tell me what happened, Cruz Huntley! Why are you being so cruel?”

  It was the way her voice wobbled on the last word. The way tears made her green eyes liquid. The way her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly.

  The air spilled from him in a slow breath. He’d left his own phone in the apartment, and he wasn’t about to torture her another second. Not when she was looking at him like that.

  He eased down the step, and her hand fell away.

  “Honey . . .” He made himself say the words. “It’s your mama.”

  “Wh-what about her?”

  He’d rather throw himself off a cliff than say the next words. He set his fingers on her arm, needing to touch her, ground her. “There’s been an accident. She was riding a bike, and she was hit. I’m so sorry. She didn’t make it.”

  She froze for a long moment, the tears glittering in the moonlight. “No . . . You-you’re making it up.”

  His thumb swept her hot skin. “I’m not, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re making it up!”

  His throat tightened. “Let’s go upstairs and call Brady.”

  “You’re making it up . . .” This time her words crumbled like wadded-up newspaper. Her knees buckled.

  He caught her around the waist. Swept her up into his arms.

  “No!” She pushed against his shoulder, squirmed and twisted as he took the stairs. He tightened his grip.

  “Let me go! Why are you doing this? It’s not true!” She hit him on the back. “It’s not true!”

  His throat burned. “It’s going to be okay, Zoe. I promise.”

  At the top of the steps he pushed through the door and let her squirm from his arms.

  She gave him a final shove, nailing him with a glare.

  He retrieved his phone and dialed.

  “Give me the phone!”

  Brady picked up right away. “Is she there?”

  “She already knows. I had to tell her. I’m sorry.”

  Brady sighed, from relief, Cruz hoped. “All right. Let me talk to her.”

  Some of the anger was draining from Zoe’s face and something worse was taking its place. She held out her hand, and it trembled in the space between them.

  He gave her the phone, and she lifted it to her ear, barely breathing as she listened.

  “No . . . ,” she whimpered. Tears fell down her face, and her body wavered until Cruz feared she was going down.

  He tugged her gently into the oversize chair with him and put his arm around her as if he could shield her from the pain.

  “Okay,” she said to Brady a moment later, then passed the phone to Cruz.

  Cruz put it to his ear. “It’s me.”

  “Stay with her, okay?” Brady’s voice cracked.

  “I will. I will. Don’t worry.”

  A moment later as he hung up, sobs began tearing through Zoe. The shock was wearing off.

  “It can’t be true. It can’t be.”

  He pulled her closer. “Come here, honey.”

  She turned, melting into his chest.

  Her sobs shook him. His heart cracked open, and he tightened his arms as if he could absorb her pain.

  “Mama,” she wailed into his chest.

  His eye sockets burned. “I know. I know, honey. I’m so sorry.” It was all he could say. He couldn’t even imagine losing his own mom. The whole family had to be reeling, and the coming days were going to be rough. To say nothing of now.

  He murmured useless words, smoothed her beautiful hair, knuckled away her relentless tears. Time seemed to trickle past as the ache inside him grew. Was there anything worse than this helpless feeling?

  He had no idea how long she cried. Longer than he dreamed possible. But sometime later the sobs subsided to an occasional shudder.

  Still he held on. Her warm body had sunk into his chest. There was nothing he could do to relieve her pain. Nothing he could do to bring back her mom. But he could hold her. He could be here for her when her family was not.

  As her breathing evened out he slid deeper into the chair and pressed a kiss to her damp curls.

  chapter thirteen

  The funeral was almost a week later. Gentry Memorial Home was located in an old rambling Victorian with the high ceilings and narrow windows and doors of a bygone era. The floors creaked with age as people milled around.

  Zoe tried to focus on the elaborate cherry molding and fussy wallpaper. On the ornamental chandeliers and woolen rugs. Anything to keep from looking at the open casket at the front of the room where her mama lay, looking nothing like herself.

  People pressed around her saying things that were meant to comfort. But nothing would fill the giant aching hole inside, and Zoe, who normally loved a room full of people, wanted nothing more than to bury herself under her covers.

  She nodded and tried to smile as her grandma’s friend Ruby Brown murmured and patted her arm. But all she could think about was her mama’s last moments. And how she hadn’t been there. She’d been on a stage pursuing some stupid childhood dream while her mama died. She’d missed her mother’s last precious days. Her throat tightened. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to sing again.

  A wave of heat swept over her despite the air conditioning pumping through the vents. Her chest tightened, and her breathing quickened to accommodate. Her head spun dizzily even as she felt desperate to escape this room. This crowd.

  “I—Excuse me, Miss Ruby, there’s something I need to see to.”

  She didn’t wait around for a response, but turned and quickly walked away. Was she going to pass out? She’d always laughed at those silly girls who fainted. It wasn’t so funny now that it was her head spinning, her lungs gasping.

  She ducked through a door off one of the parlors and found herself in a large empty closet. She closed the door behind her and flipped on a light, a barren bulb with all of fifteen watts.

  She leaned against the wall which, she noticed absentmindedly, was also covered in floral wallpaper. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply until her heart rate began to slow and her head stopped spinning. She’d never had a panic attack, but this must be what one felt like. She could live the rest of her days and never do this again.

  Or the whole week for that matter. Her emotions were all over the map. She could scarcely believe Mama was gone. The house seemed so empty without her. Her dad had returned from California too lost in his own pain to comfort anyone else. Brady seemed to think she needed an extra parent now and had nominated himself for the role.

  Zoe had scrubbed the house from floor to ceiling, trying to stay busy. The freezer was stacked with casseroles no one had an appetite for. Her dad returned to work, and the home phone rang endlessly with neighbors offering to help. She’d made decisions about caskets and flowers and pallbearers—decisions no nineteen-year-old should have to make.

  Through it all she ached for her mother and replayed their hasty good-bye over and over. She hadn’t even told Mama she loved her.

  Her throat went tight, and tears prickled behind her eyes. She shoved her palms into her eye sockets. Not yet. Not yet. If she gave in to the flood of emotions she was afraid she’d never stop.

  The doorknob rattled and she straightened, her shoulder m
uscles tightening. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her be? Was that too much to ask? Bad enough she had to get through an exhausting service and host a hundred of their closest friends at the house.

  The door opened and Cruz slipped through, shutting it behind him.

  Her shoulders sank in relief. He looked so handsome. His skin was dark against the crisp whiteness of his shirt, and his hair was slightly tousled as if he’d recently run a hand through it.

  Her annoyance drained away even as her feet rushed toward him.

  And then she was in his arms and he was holding her, and she took the first full breath she’d taken all week.

  She hadn’t seen him since the morning she’d awakened in his apartment. She’d barely had the time to enjoy the steely security of his embrace before he was untangling their limbs, a flush crawling up his neck. But then the night before came flooding back, and she felt the crushing loss of her mom all over again, a concrete block lying heavily on her stomach.

  His absence ever since had been like a nagging loss in the back of her mind. But now that he was here, she realized it was all she’d needed. She clutched at his shirt, probably wrinkling it beyond repair, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  His hand cradled the back of her head, and he pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

  “What can I do?” he whispered. His fingers dug into her hair, making every follicle come to life.

  She tightened her arms around him. “Just this.”

  Cruz had seen Zoe slip from the crowd, her skin pale against her pink lips. It had been so hard to stay away from her this week. But her family was home now. It wasn’t his place to comfort her.

  “I missed you this week.” Her words were muffled in his shirt.

  He wondered if she noticed the way his heart accelerated. “I was trying to give your family some space.”

  “You saw Brady.”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “And what am I?”

  My girl. Mi leona. Mi amor. Cruz closed his eyes. Clenched his jaw against the words. Be strong, Huntley.

  At his silence she pushed away, her swollen eyes narrowing. “No answer, Cruz? Nothing?”