Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2)

by Sara Walter Ellwood

  Lemont shifted in his seat, a smug, satisfied smile curling his lips. Michaela scowled at him, then looked at Gabe as the judge went on, “This decision wasn’t an easy one to make. I can see how much both Mr. McKenna and Miss Finn love Jesse and that he loves them. He also confided his dislike for Mr. Finn.” The statement wiped the smugness off Lemont’s lined face.

  “Despite these observations, I can’t bring myself to put this child in such an unsteady home. I admire Mr. McKenna and Miss Finn’s desire to share custody until the adoption hearing, but I do not believe they can provide a secure home; however, I’m not completely convinced Mr. Finn can meet Jesse’s needs, either.” He leaned back and shook his head. “A strong, loving family is what the boy should have now. Not all this squabbling.”

  Gabe stood, gaining a grumble from Reese, which he ignored. “So, what you’re saying is that if either Michaela or I were married, your decision would have been different?”

  Anderson shrugged his massive shoulders under his black robe. “It would have been if I could ensure Jesse would have a good home.” He lifted his gavel and hit the block on the bench. “Court adjourned.”

  They all stood when the judge left the small chamber. Lemont shook his lawyer’s hand. “Great job, Amy.” He looked over at Gabe and Micki with an arrogant grin and nodded. “It was a good fight, y’all. But I told you I’d win. Now, I have to fetch my grandson. I promised him we’d go to Disney World if Anderson had any sense and ruled in my favor.”

  Gabe glared at him and took a step toward him. “You can’t buy his love, Lemont.”

  The oilman paused and shrugged. “Jesse’s young. He’ll learn I can provide the better home for him.”

  “Like you did for your own daughters?” Michaela shoved up beside Gabe.

  She might not like that he wanted to adopt Jesse, but they both had a common goal--keeping him away from his grandfather.

  Lemont shrugged and put his hat on his head. “Have you ever considered the problem isn’t me at all?” He smiled and patted Gabe on the shoulder. “Sorry about your little indiscretion on the road. Have a good day.”

  Gabe and Micki watched Finn and his lawyer walk to the door.

  “God, I hate that man,” Micki said.

  “Yeah.” Gabe glanced over at Michaela.

  Could he really be considering the idea forming in his head? She met his gaze for a beat. Was she thinking the same thing?

  * * * *

  Micki pinned the order slip on the wheel and spun it back to the cook behind the counter. She grabbed the coffee pot and turned to refill the cups of the two truck drivers eating the lunch special at the bar. After making sure her other customers enjoying the Lasso Café’s chicken-fried steak and cornbread were fine, she returned to wrapping flatware in paper napkins behind the counter. The lunch rush was winding down; now she had to get ready for the supper rush.

  Since the court decision Monday, she couldn’t keep the crazy idea from her mind. If she got married, she’d have a better chance of getting Jesse. Therein lay the problem: she wasn’t even dating anyone. The only prospect she had was a man eight years younger than she was.

  At the thought of Cash Nelson, Micki shook her head. He would jump at the suggestion of them getting married, even if she explained it was only for convenience. Despite his crushing on her since he was thirteen, she never considered him more than a friend. As much as she wanted to raise Jesse, she couldn’t imagine being married to Cash. He’d expect more from her than she could give him, and she valued his friendship too much to hurt him.

  The bell above the door gave a friendly tinkle, singling another customer for the Friday lunch special. When gasps from the table full of college-aged girls echoed through the suddenly quiet space, she knew who had walked in. The energy changed in the room, and the short hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  She slowly finished wrapping the service of flatware in her hand. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned around. Gabe slid onto a stool at the bar, and she caught him looking at her jeans-covered backside. The heat she saw in his dark eyes made her blood rush through her and tightened the skin over her breasts.

  “Hello, Michaela.”

  Did she imagine the gruffness of his voice? It reminded her of the way he sounded when he’d made love to her and said dirty things in her ear.

  She immediately pushed the memories back into the dungeon of her brain and locked the door.

  “I figured you went back to Nashville.” Micki handed Gabe a menu, aware that every eye in the place was on her and the country star.

  He looked at the fare and shrugged. “I actually just got back in town. I flew out Monday after the hearing and drove back yesterday.”

  “Drove?”

  Gabe grinned at her. “I figured it made more sense than renting a car. I intend to spend a few months in Texas.”

  Months?

  With a squeak, the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the dining room opened, and Darla Tillman carried three heaping plates of her special out to the table whose order Micki had placed last. The rotund woman smiled at Micki and Gabe as she passed by, heading back into the kitchen where she supervised the cook.

  From the times Micki had eaten here, she couldn’t remember the woman ever serving a meal. She rarely left her steamy domain behind the swinging door. Which threw Micki off as much as the man smiling at her with amusement twinkling in his golden-brown eyes.

  He closed the menu and laid it aside. “I think I’ll have a piece of Miz Darla’s famous coconut cream pie and a cup of black coffee. Please.”

  For a second, Micki just stared at him. “What do you mean you intend to spend a few months here?”

  He leaned over the counter. Micki tried not to look at the way his muscular arms bulged in all of the right places. His white T-shirt stretched over his shoulders and chest.

  She turned around, poured him a cup of coffee, and plated a piece of Darla’s sky-high coconut cream and meringue pie. Her hands shook, which she was glad no one could see. After she placed the cup and plate on the counter in front of Gabe, she crossed her arms under her breasts and glared at him.

  Gabe picked up the fork beside his pie and took a bite. “Mmm. Fantastic. Miz Darla, c’mon out here.”

  When Darla peeked out from around the door, her face was bright red. “You like?”

  He motioned for her to come out of the kitchen. Darla touched her tight gray bun at the back of her skull and moved forward. She stood beside Micki and wrung her hands in her starched white apron.

  While Gabe swallowed another bite, Darla’s plump, ruddy face took on the look of someone waiting for the final judgment from God himself. “Darla, you know darned well you make the best pie in the whole state of Texas. Tennessee, too. Heck, maybe the whole country.” He took another bite. “I’ve missed this.”

  He flicked a glance at Micki, and something hot and wet settled deep within the pit of her center.

  “Aw, Gabriel.” Darla’s face broke into a large grin. “You always were a charmer. But thank you.”

  “I’m glad someone finds me charming.” He picked up his coffee cup and again grinned at Micki.

  She turned away and headed with a pitcher of sweet tea for the table of goggling girls. As she refilled their glasses, a pretty brunette with big brown eyes and freckles scattered over her nose gushed, “Oh my God, is that Gabe McKenna?”

  With a sigh, she set the pitcher on the table and stacked empty plates into a pile at the edge. Four pairs of eyes stared back at her waiting for an answer. None of the girls looked old enough to drive, let alone be college students. She pasted on a smile. “Yes.”

  The blonde with metal frames and thick lenses covering gray-green eyes sipped her tea. “Do you know him?”

  Time to go. She picked up the half-empty pitcher and stack of dirty dishes. “A little. Can I get y’all anything else?”

  “No, I think we’re good,” said another blonde sitting
beside the girl with glasses. “When you get a chance, may we have our checks?”

  Micki nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  Once she deposited the dishes in the dishpan by the kitchen door, Micki headed for the table Darla had served.

  The old woman paid her a decent wage, but the bulk of her income came from tips. She couldn’t neglect her customers just because Gabe thought the world turned on his time.

  To her surprise, waitressing had come to her easily. After her initial two weeks, she’d become a natural. Although she’d decided to sign on with the corporation, she’d also taken a part time job at the café, working Friday and Saturday evenings. She hated her mother being alone that much, but with Mary Nelson’s gracious help, Micki was making it work. The extra money would help her get some leverage on Gabe. With the men who’d started last week, the ranch was more manageable. Although the cowboys were good workers, she didn’t know much about them and found it odd that neither of them seemed to know anymore about their employer than she did.

  She checked out the truck drivers and a few other folks, including the college girls, before she made it back to where Gabe and Darla were chatting. After she cleaned the bar of the truckers’ empty coffee cups and wiped the counter, Darla took another dishpan and headed for the recently vacated tables, surprising Micki again.

  With nothing more to do, she stopped before Gabe on the service side of the bar. “Okay, what the hell is going on, Gabe?”

  He swallowed the last of his coffee and pushed away his empty plate. Leaning over his arms, he met her gaze. “I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

  “You can go--”

  “Before you tell me to go to hell,” he said, in that low baritone which did funny things to her blood, “I think you may want to hear me out.”

  She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. “What makes you think you have anything to say that I’d want to hear?”

  Gabe laughed and shook his shaggy head of black hair. “You are the most stubborn woman. I have a plan. Let’s just leave it at that.” He threw down a hundred-dollar bill and stood.

  She picked up the money and headed for the cash register on the opposite end of the counter. When she turned with his change, he was already at the door. “Wait. Here’s your change.”

  Gabe winked at her as he placed his tan Stetson on his head. “You keep it, honey. I’ll be by your place at six. Wear something sexy.”

  Every person in the diner turned to gape at Micki as Gabe exited, the bell ringing in her ears.

  What the hell is he up to?

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted to know.

  * * * *

  Micki paced the small living room of the cottage. Looking at the antique clock on the wall, she sucked in a breath and tapped her right hand against her thigh in time with the ticktock. Gabe would be here in less than five minutes.

  Her mother sat in front of the TV watching Wheel of Fortune. As Micki made another pass behind the electric wheelchair, Momma said, “You are as jumpy as a gun-shy coonhound during hunting season. You must have a really hot date.”

  “What have you heard?” Micki stopped and glanced at the back of her mother’s head.

  The grin when her mother turned the chair around to face her told Micki everything. “Only that Gabe McKenna stopped by the diner today, and it looked like y’all were seeing each other.”

  Letting out her breath, she shook her head. “You know better. I don’t know what’s going on. He said he had a plan, which is the only reason I’m going anywhere with the jerk.”

  She started pacing again. When the knock came at the door, she about jumped out of her skin.

  Her mother chuckled. By the sounds of the whirl, she’d turned her chair around again and turned up the TV.

  Micki moved to the entry and filled her lungs with air not polluted with Gabe’s bewitching scent before she opened the door. Immediately she lost the breath when she looked at the man waiting on the other side. Gabe was dressed in black jeans that fit like a second skin and showed off his long, toned legs in amazing glory. A big silver buckle he’d won in a tie-down event at a local rodeo years ago gleamed low on his waist. When she comprehended the meaning for the not-so-subtle bulge, she jerked her eyes up over his white western shirt to his face.

  Hot blood scalded her cheeks, and she wanted to shut the door on his wicked grin. Before she had the chance to act on the impulse, he stepped over the threshold and removed his hat. His eyes held a heat she didn’t want to see, let alone respond to. But her body had other ideas. Her insides turned to hot mush, and she began aching in places she didn’t want to for Gabriel McKenna.

  “Hello, Michaela.” He moved over to where Loretta sat, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “How are you tonight, Loretta?”

  Her mother peered up at Gabe with a mix of confusion and warning in her clear blue eyes. “I’m good. What’s going on, Gabriel?”

  * * * *

  He glanced at Michaela and more blood drained to his groin. He’d told her to dress sexy, thinking she’d not take the challenge; however, she not only met his challenge, she surpassed it. Tonight would be torture. Michaela was never one to wear dresses, and tonight was no exception.

  She wore tight faded jeans and a short-sleeved white blouse trimmed in eyelet lace. The scooped neck allowed him a peek at her cleavage. With her blond hair flowing around her tanned shoulders and a pair of bright red cowgirl boots upon her feet, she was a cowboy’s dream. Michaela arched a brow and her lips turned upward as if she knew exactly how she was affecting him.

  He swallowed and turned back to her mother. “I’ll let Michaela explain when she gets home. Right now, I think we’d better get going before it gets any darker.”

  She kissed her mother on the cheek, then grabbed a white Stetson from the pegs by the door and led the way out. He came up beside her and guided her to his truck. Michaela let out a low whistle as they stopped beside the Ford 150 Raptor SVT parked in the drive.

  He opened the passenger door of the cherry-red pickup and intended to help her in, but she had climbed in on her own before he had a chance to blink. “So, you like my truck?”

  With a shrug, she looked over the dashboard. “It’s nice, but I’ve never liked Fords.” She flashed him a smile. “I’m a Chevy gal myself.”

  Chuckling, he closed the passenger door. After he climbed behind the wheel, she said, “My question is, what do you need an off-road truck for when you live in the city?”

  The big engine roared to life when he turned the key. “I have plenty of friends who don’t live right in Nashville. Don’t worry. This thing’s been in some places a Chevy would never have gotten me out of.”

  She laughed, and it settled somewhere in Gabe’s low belly.

  Michaela was quiet until he turned at the Y in the drive to head to the big white house. “What are you doing?”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “We aren’t headed for a restaurant. I cooked.”

  Her eyes rounded. “But where? The house is locked up…”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  When he stopped the truck in front of the garage, her eyes narrowed. “Okay, I’ve played your game. Now I demand to know what’s going on.”

  “I bought the ranch.”

  “What the hell are you up to? Everyone knows some corporation bought it.”

  He shut the engine off and met her puzzled expression. “That’s what I wanted everyone to think. It’s a dummy corp Reese set up for me.”

  She gaped at him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Heck, it might have helped our custody case.”

  He fumbled with his keys. “I wanted to tell you that day in the barn, but things...” He didn’t want to bring up the fight they’d had. “Reese wanted to use my buying the ranch, but I talked him out of it. I don’t want Lemont to know until I’m good and ready for him to know. I paid two million more than it’s worth, and the la
st thing I want is Lemont to get his hands on what is now Jesse’s money.”

  “But it’s in a trust fund. Lemont can’t touch it... Can he?”

  “It’s Lemont. You know he’s as crooked as the hind leg of a jackrabbit. He’d find a way to get to the money. After all, he stole yours and Frankie’s.”

  She twisted away from him, only to swing around and glare at him with her hands fisted at her lap. “You’ve owned it all this time?”

  “Look. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain. I told you I have a plan.”

  She didn’t answer and shoved the door open. By the time he got out of the truck, she was waiting on the concrete in front of the double doors of the semi-detached garage with her arms crossed under her breasts and the toe of her cowboy boot drumming steadily on the pavement.

  Did she have any idea how damned sexy she looked with the way her breasts pushed upward? He walked past her and headed up the back porch steps to the kitchen door. She followed him into the house and let out an exhalation of air as she looked around.

  He turned on the oven and faced her. “I figured we could eat here. I’d prefer that none of what we discuss be overheard by someone.”

  She slowly met his eyes, pulling her attention from the heavy, antique oak table. “That’s Frankie’s table. You bought the furniture, too.”

  “Some of it. I had two different agents attend the auction.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I knew this table had belonged to your grandma and thought it only right you and Loretta have it. I bought all of Jesse’s bedroom furniture and the things that were Frankie’s and Dad’s I thought he’d like to have when he’s older.” He’d set the table with china that had belonged to his mother and a bunch of red roses and white daisies. “And I bought everything that was my momma’s they had in storage and didn’t give to me in Dad’s will.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then blinked, shaking her head. “What smells so good?”

  “Lasagna. It should be ready in a few minutes.”