by Jen Gilroy
“That would be great.” Annie’s face was pale. “Our dad . . . he died from a massive heart attack. Mom must be so scared.” She propped the guitar case against the studio wall with unsteady hands.
“Duncan’s got a lot of fight in him. Mom said he told the paramedics there was no reason for him to go to the hospital since he wasn’t sick. He made her promise she wouldn’t even call his kids yet.” Tara’s voice quavered. “But Mom. she’s . . .”
“All alone.” Annie reached her sister in two strides and held her tight.
“What’s Duncan’s favorite song? I’ll play it on the show for him.” Annie and her family had helped Jake, and they’d helped him. Even if only in a small way, he wanted to be there for them.
“He’d like anything by Johnny Cash,” Annie said. “He once told me ‘I Walk the Line’ was the first record he bought.” Her scared gaze caught his and held.
Seth’s breathing quickened. “You got it. Tell Duncan I’m pulling for him. And if there’s anything else I can do, text me.”
“I will. Thanks.” She gave a nervous laugh and turned away with Tara.
After the station door shut behind them, he moved to a computer and glanced at the show’s playlist file without seeing it. He wanted to take away that desperate look in Annie’s eyes—comfort her and care for her in a way he hadn’t wanted to do for any woman ever. Maybe it didn’t matter too much that they were both working on Jake’s estate, but how could he get involved with her if he only planned to be here for six months? There was her music, too. Would she think he only wanted to get close to her because of it? He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck where the muscles were taut.
“You wanted a slice of coffee cake?”
“What?” He looked up as Brendan came through the door his sisters had just left through.
“You messaged me earlier?” Brendan held a plate in one hand with a coffee mug balanced on the edge.
“Right.” He moved back around the desk to take the mug.
“I met Tara and Annie on the stairs. Scary stuff for Mom and Duncan. All of us, really.” Brendan set the plate on the desk, his usually easygoing expression guarded. “What was Annie doing up here with her guitar?” He flicked a glance at the case still propped against the wall.
“Nothing important.” Seth’s stomach knotted. “Look, I’m going on air soon and—”
“Annie’s never said much about Hannah’s dad, but he hurt her.” As Brendan studied him, Seth drew back. “She’s never been the same as she was before she went to Nashville. When she came back here, I vowed if any guy ever hurt her again, he’d have to deal with me.”
“Understood.” Seth set the mug down and toyed with his headphones. He wanted to help Annie. Why would Brendan think he’d ever hurt her?
“Good.” Although Brendan’s tone was conversational, it also held a warning. “You should play a song for Duncan. Folks will want to wish him well.”
“Already covered. Johnny Cash, ‘I Walk the Line.’ But I wasn’t going to mention Duncan’s name. He won’t want folks knowing his business.”
Brendan snorted. “Ten minutes after the ambulance left the house, half the town would already know where he was going. Lizzie Driscoll lives next door to Mom and Duncan, and she never misses anything, day or night. She’s also the biggest talker between here and the Pennsylvania state line. If you don’t mention Duncan’s at the hospital, folks will think you don’t like him. Small-town radio’s part information and part public service, all with a personal, down-home touch.”
And that was why Seth had no intention of being a small-town radio announcer or station manager any longer than he could help. Except, like Johnny Cash, he was walking a line—one between his head and his heart, and the more time he spent here and around Annie, the more that line got blurred.
~ ~ ~
Even the hospital lobby had an antiseptic smell. At this time of the morning the place was quiet, the gift shop and flower kiosk shuttered, and only one security guard sat behind the reception desk. Annie tucked her phone in her purse, glanced at the overhead signs, and tugged Tara’s arm. “Mom’s text said she’s in the family room. It’s this way. If you want to wait here, I’ll find her and—”
“I’m fine.” Tara dropped Annie’s arm.
“No, you’re not. I’m not, either.” Thanks to the stomach-churning ride in Tara’s Jeep, they’d made the twenty-minute drive to the district hospital in under fifteen. “But there’s nothing so bad we can’t face it together.” Actually, there was. But Annie wouldn’t let herself go there right now.
“Should we should call one of Mom’s sisters?” Tara’s anxious gaze met Annie’s.
“No.” Annie tempered the word with a smile. “If we do, before we know it, the whole family will be here. Besides, you told me Mom said Duncan didn’t want her to call his kids, remember?”
“Yes, but that’s different.” Tara worried her bottom lip. “It’s still the middle of the night on the West Coast.”
“He’d have said the same even if it was afternoon. Duncan’s a private person.” And that was one of the reasons Annie liked him so much. He never pried into her life. She let out a breath and pushed open the door to the hospital’s family waiting room. Her mom sat in a chair near the window huddled into her spring coat.
“Thank God, you’re here. Duncan . . .” Her mom’s voice faltered. “I lost your dad on a gurney through those doors. And now, Duncan . . . I can’t . . .” Her body shook with suppressed sobs. “Do you think the nurse put me in here by myself because he’s dead and they haven’t told me yet?”
“Of course not.” Annie slid into the chair next to her mom and rubbed her cold hands to try to warm them. “I’m sure she thought you could use a quiet place to sit, away from everyone in the emergency waiting room. She was being kind.”
“Maybe.” Her mom’s voice broke.
“You did the right thing to call the ambulance.” She glanced at Tara, who hovered inside the doorway. “You aren’t going to lose Duncan. He’s an active, healthy guy.”
“I thought your father was, too.” Her mom stared at her feet.
“You told me Duncan talked to you all the way here.” Tara moved into the room and crouched by their mom’s other side. “That has to be a good sign.”
“Tara’s right. Once the doctor checks Duncan out, I bet he’ll be fine.” Annie tried to make her smile encouraging.
Her mom’s hands tightened around Annie’s. “Maybe there’s something wrong with his heart, and maybe there isn’t. I told him it was too late to eat that spicy chili after bowling last night, but he insisted.” She gulped. “It’s not . . . this isn’t all. He went to his own doctor last week, but I only found out about the appointment by accident.”
Annie’s muscles tensed. “Is that why you asked me to drive you to the clinic?”
Her mom gave a jerky nod. “We don’t know for sure, but Duncan might have prostate cancer.”
The dreaded C-word. Annie’s insides clenched, and Tara sucked in a ragged breath.
“Duncan didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I didn’t promise. I have to talk to someone. Who else but my daughters?” Her face was gray and pinched. “We had so many plans for our retirement, but with my hip and now this . . .”
“Those plans are only delayed a bit.” Annie hoped she was right. She stroked her mom’s arm. “I’m sure I read somewhere that prostate cancer’s really treatable these days.”
“It’s still cancer.” Her mom bent her head and her shoulders sagged.
“It is and that’s why if you tell people, they’ll want to help. If Duncan knew how upset you are, he wouldn’t want you going through it alone. Like when Dad passed, you need the support of your family and friends.”
“Duncan doesn’t want anybody to know because he’s a man
and, well . . .” Her cheeks went red. “He’d be uncomfortable with people, family even, talking about his . . . equipment.”
“I understand but . . .” Annie stopped. She didn’t understand, not really, and nothing she could say would make things better right now.
“I shouldn’t even have told you two. You can’t say a word.” Her mom’s expression was pleading as her gaze darted between Annie and Tara. “Not until we know something for sure, anyway.”
“Okay.” Annie exhaled. She disagreed, but getting Duncan riled up wouldn’t do anybody any good, least of all him.
“Thank you, honey.” Her mom forced a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without all of you living so close by. Along with Brendan, you’re my comfort and joy. And after losing my babies, you three girls are an extra special blessing.”
Annie’s throat closed. Her mom rarely spoke about her miscarriages, or the baby boy who’d died two days after his birth when Brendan was three, but the pain of those losses still ran deep. Whenever Annie thought about leaving Irish Falls, she knew she couldn’t. Even if she hadn’t gotten pregnant and finished her college degree, she probably wouldn’t have stayed in Nashville. Family would have pulled her back to northern New York state like a fish on a line.
“Of course we’re all here for you, and Duncan, too.” It was no good thinking about the paths she could have taken.
“I’m sure not going anywhere.” Sadness clouded Tara’s face. She patted her mom’s knee and got to her feet. “Why don’t I see if I can find you a cup of tea and a blanket? You’re freezing.”
“Thanks, honey.” After the door closed behind Tara, her mom slumped back in the chair. “Some days I think she’s doing better, but then the grief closes in again. I know what she’s going through, but at least when I lost your dad, I had you kids as a part of him. If Tara and Adam had been able to have a child, maybe . . .”
“Yeah.” The knot in Annie’s stomach tightened. She wasn’t the only one with paths not taken. “Tara needs time.” At least she hoped that was all she needed. “She’s focusing more on the positives than she used to. Like she didn’t get flooded out so she still has her keepsakes.”
“Compared to a lot of others, our family is blessed.” Her mom glanced at the floor, where half the tiles had been pulled up. “There’s even flood damage here. That fundraiser will help folks all across this valley. I heard Seth’s giving free advertising spots to help spread the word.”
“So he told me.” She’d sung for him less than two hours ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.
“We need to do more.” Her mom’s expression turned thoughtful. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“What would get younger people to take part? Every fundraiser we have is more of the same. A raffle, a dance with a few people doing karaoke, and a community garage and bake sale. Let’s shake things up a bit.” Her mom’s voice had new strength. “Memorial Day is the first big tourist weekend of the year. What would interest visitors too?”
Her mom didn’t know she’d sung for Seth. And she wasn’t asking her to sing at the fundraiser. However, singing for Seth had made Annie wonder what it would be like to sing on a stage again. She was older. She didn’t have stars in her eyes. She was also smarter and nobody could take away what she wouldn’t give. “We don’t have a lot of time to plan but maybe we could get the school involved. What about a talent show with different age groups?” Unexpected excitement coursed through her. “We could make it a real showcase for the town.”
“That’s a great idea.” Despite her worry over Duncan, her mom beamed. “I bet Seth would be on board. He could be one of the judges or the host. It would be like ‘America’s Got Talent’ here in Irish Falls. Not only would we raise money with entry and admission fees, but it would be fun. Maybe Seth knows someone who could headline a show. That would draw a crowd, don’t you think?”
“Hang on.” Annie blinked. While she’d been thinking baton twirlers and cute pet tricks, her mom envisioned an Adirondack version of the Grand Ole Opry. “For anything like that, we’d need to start small—and much earlier.”
“Mrs. McNeill?” The family room door swung open. A dark-haired man wearing a white coat came in.
Aaron. Annie dredged up his name from the recesses of her memory. President of the science club in high school, a senior when she was a freshman and, based on an article in the local newspaper, he’d returned to Irish Falls last month.
“You can come through to sit with your husband. We’re still running a few tests, but he hasn’t had a heart attack.”
“Then what?” Annie glanced at her mom.
“I’m thinking anxiety and maybe indigestion from something he ate.” Aaron, now Dr. Aaron Lafontaine, according to the name tag pinned to his coat, smiled. “Do you know if he’s worried about anything? He won’t tell me.”
Her mom exhaled with what sounded like a mix of relief and frustration. “What isn’t Duncan worrying about? He seems like such an easygoing guy, but underneath it’s a different story.” She raised an eyebrow at Annie. “When Tara comes back with that tea, you drink it. You’re as big a worrier as Duncan and me put together, and right now you look real wound up. A nice hot drink will settle you right down.”
If only it was so easy. After her mom had left with Aaron, Annie sat back in the chair.
Until now, the ties that held her to Irish Falls had never been a burden. But instead of bonds she cherished, and almost without her noticing, they’d begun to chafe and pull her tight. If she sang on a stage again, would it set her free, or would it only be a poignant and painful reminder of what she missed most and had let slip through her fingers?
Chapter 11
“So, what’s going on with you and the hot radio guy?” From the treadmill beside Annie’s at the Valley Fitness Center, Rowan puffed out the words.
“Nothing.” At least that was what Annie wanted her sisters and everyone else to believe.
“We won’t push you if you don’t want to tell us.” Rowan slid her the kind of sideways glance that usually got Annie to open up.
“It didn’t look like nothing to me that morning Duncan went to the hospital.” Despite having her treadmill set to an incline and at jogging speed, Tara had barely broken a sweat. “Those were some sparks you and Seth were giving off in the station.”
Annie pressed her lips together because it’d been over a week since she’d sung for him, and whenever she was around Seth—and she was around him a lot—she was hyperaware of those same sparks. “Seth asked me to sing at the flood relief fundraiser. We’re friends, and we both like music.” I don’t believe that so why should my sisters? She kept to a steady walk, and the even vibration of the treadmill beneath her feet grounded her.
“That’s a great idea. You should go for it. There’s nothing to be scared of.” Rowan’s tone was encouraging.
“I’m not scared.” Scared was too mild a word for the terror that engulfed Annie at the thought of singing in public again. “I don’t even sing solos in church. Why would I sing at the fundraiser? Now we’ve added a talent show, the whole town and a lot of visitors will be there.” Although the event wasn’t the Grand Ole Opry, it had nevertheless quickly taken on a life of its own and seemed to get bigger by the day.
“We know you can do it. Besides, it will also help the hospital and, with Duncan’s biopsy, it’s a great time to show your support.” Even when she exercised, not a hair on Tara’s head was ever out of place.
“I’m already showing my support in lots of ways.” Annie shoved her sweat-dampened hair off the back of her neck. “Who’s organizing the talent show, for a start?”
“You.” Rowan slid her that glance again. “And the hot radio guy.”
“Why don’t you and Seth sing together?” Tara jogged faster and gave Annie a cheeky grin. �
�A guy like him would have women throwing bills at the stage as soon as he opened his mouth. Mom told you she thought the town should have something fun, didn’t she?”
“Please. This fundraiser started out as a church event.” Except, Tara was right. Seth was the most exciting man to land in Irish Falls in years, maybe ever. And he had offered to sing with her or accompany her if she wanted him to.
“It’s not like Seth would be taking his clothes off. Mind you, from what I’ve heard around town, a lot of women wouldn’t complain if he did.” Tara chuckled.
Rowan reached over and patted Annie’s shoulder. “We’re only teasing. Forget about Seth. Maybe you need to sing at that fundraiser for you.”
Annie stared at her purple running shoes. Her sisters understood her inside and out—both the blessing and curse of their close bond. “Maybe I do, but . . .” She studied her reflection in the gym’s mirrored wall. If she was going to get up on a stage, and even though it would only be at the Black Duck, she’d have to get a haircut and find something to wear to hide that extra ten pounds she couldn’t seem to shift, no matter how many miles she walked on this machine.
“But what? You’re gorgeous.” Tara sobered. “All you have to do is believe it.”
And that was the hard part. Her confidence had taken a big hit all those years ago, and she’d never truly gotten it back. “Singing in front of all those people would be way out of my comfort zone.” Annie stepped up the pace until her lungs burned.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Rowan’s gaze sharpened. “It isn’t about the singing, not really. It’s about facing your fears.” She took several gasping breaths. “I should know. I’m not there yet, but you are.”
