Zeke had a surefire cure for a bumper crop of tomatoes—a snot-nosed kid with a rotten father—but he refrained from saying so.
“Dad, I have a question I need to ask you.”
“Fire off.”
“When you married Mom, did you—” Zeke broke off and tugged on his ear. “What I mean to say is—did you have an opportunity to try her on for size before you jumped in with both feet?”
Busy moving tomatoes from the bowl of his shirt to the basket, Harv turned sharp blue eyes on Zeke. “You insultin’ your mother, son?”
“No, of course not, Dad.”
“You thinkin’ she was the kind of woman to let a man sample the milk without buyin’ the cow?”
“No, sir.”
“Then don’t ask such a damned fool question.”
Now that Zeke thought about it, he realized it actually was a damned fool question. His mother was as close to being an angel as any woman with six kids could possibly get.
Harv sighed and shook his head. “Your mother was a churchgoer and had herself a fine set of values she wasn’t about to compromise for me. To be with her, I had to put a ring on her finger and promise her forever.”
“Didn’t you have doubts?” Zeke asked incredulously.
“Doubts about what?”
Zeke gritted his teeth and started helping pick tomatoes.
“Don’t bruise ’em,” Harv cautioned. Then he said, “You always have been my serious one. Ever since you were a little tyke, you’ve walked a circle around a decision until you damned near wore a rut before makin’ up your mind.”
Zeke grinned in spite of himself. As unflattering as it was, the description fit him perfectly. “Ouch.”
“Well, it’s true. You always want to hedge your bets.”
“Is that so wrong?”
“Not wrong, exactly. It’s just that some of the best things in life don’t come with guarantees. You gonna pass on all those things because you’re afraid to take a chance?”
Zeke put another tomato into the basket. “When you fell in love with Mom, how did you know it would last?”
“Didn’t. I only knew I couldn’t walk away. Love’s not a decision, son. It hits a man betwixt the eyes, and there’s no decidin’ to it. Right or wrong, doubts or no doubts, he’s standin’ knee deep in cement that’s about to set.” He slanted Zeke a questioning look. “If you can walk away from this woman, grab your hat and make tracks. She isn’t the one.”
“And if walking away is damned near impossible?”
Harv grinned and winked. “Then get your head out of your ass and do something about it before some other fellow snaps her up.”
That night, Zeke didn’t resist his urge to stop by the Blue Parrot after he finished doing the books at the store. He’d even prepared by wearing a white Western shirt and bringing along a sports jacket. When he entered the supper club shortly after nine, Natalie was onstage, just as she’d been the last time he visited. Tonight she wore a shimmering, midnight-blue dress with a slit in the figure-hugging skirt that shot clear to midthigh.
Just as before, she was pure dynamite under the stage lights. She smiled when she saw him, her gaze holding his from clear across the room. She was singing “Up!,” a Shania Twain hit. He sank onto a chair, completely captivated and barely aware of the people around him. When a waitress came by the table, he ordered a Jack and Coke. Then he sat back to enjoy himself, indulging in X-rated thoughts about silk sheets and making love to Natalie Patterson until she went limp.
When the song ended, she spoke briefly to her piano player, then returned to center stage. Her next number, “Forever and for Always,” was another Twain hit, the words expressing a deep yearning to remain in her lover’s arms forever and to never let him go. As she sang, she never took her gaze from Zeke, giving him the feeling that she meant the words only for him.
Minutes later, after informing her small audience that it was time for her break, she wove her way through the tables toward him, the sway of her hips the culmination of every man’s wet dream. Ebony curls that fell to her shoulders, eyes that issued a sultry invitation, a smile that made his heart pound against his rib cage like a fist. He loved the way her mouth tipped up at the corners and how her face glowed with gladness at seeing him.
He stood up to pull out a chair for her.
“Hey,” she said, her voice throaty yet soft, reminding him of a kitten’s purr. “What brings you here?”
“You.”
The light and flowery scent she wore surrounded him as she sat down. She glanced back over her bare, elegantly molded shoulder to search his face. “Me?”
She was so beautiful that his tongue stuck to his teeth. He could barely breathe as he sat down across from her. “I wanted to see you,” he said, and then immediately felt like an imbecile. “And hear you sing again,” he quickly tacked on. “You’re an incredible talent, Natalie. I meant it when I said you should be in Nashville.”
Her eyes reflected the candlelight that flickered between them. “If wishes were horses, poor men would ride.”
It was as close as he’d ever heard her come to admitting that her life wasn’t all that she’d like. “What happened, honey? A lot of singers have families. What held you back?”
She smiled wistfully. “One wrong turn.” A distant look came into her eyes. “That’s all it takes sometimes, one wrong turn.” She turned her hands to study her palms. “I feel guilty for even saying that. I’ve got such wonderful kids, and I love them with all my heart.”
Zeke huffed and leaned forward. “Would you stop being a mother for two seconds and just talk to me straight? Of course you love your kids. It goes without saying that you don’t wish them gone. I just want to know what happened.”
“Right after my high-school graduation, I competed at the fair in a singing competition. Robert was in the audience. I guess he thought an eighteen-year-old cowgirl with rhythm would be a nice change of pace.” She gestured limply with her hand. “He was charming. I was naive. What else is there to say? I got pregnant. Pop oiled his shotgun and aimed it at Robert’s groin. Unfortunately for me, Robert is very fond of his testicles. The next thing I knew, I was married to a man who thought performing onstage was low class and inappropriate for a woman of my social standing.”
“Tell it to Wynonna.”
“The Pattersons aren’t into Wynonna.” She smiled faintly. “They’re very upper crust, obsessed with appearances and their position in society.”
“In Crystal Falls? I didn’t know we had a society.”
She laughed, and then she grew serious again. “Big fish in a little pond. Robert married beneath himself.” She rubbed her dainty nose and flashed a grin that didn’t warm her eyes. “Raggedy Ann had to walk the straight and narrow to be worthy of the Patterson name. It took me a few years to toughen up and blow them off.”
“And then you bought the club?”
She nodded and glanced around. “I only lease the building. All I needed was start-up capital and enough money to do renovations.” She sent him a mischievous look. “I raised calves and pigs on the farm and sold them for a profit, a totally crass endeavor that made my parents-in-law hyperventilate. It took me five years to save enough money.”
“Robert wouldn’t give it to you?” Zeke winced. “Forget I asked. Upper crust. I can just imagine.”
“He threatened to divorce me when I told him I was opening the club.”
“What did you say?”
Her eyes fairly danced with devilment. “That I’d really miss him.”
Zeke snorted and almost choked on his drink. “Good for you.”
“It was enough for me,” she went on. “I could finally sing to an audience, what I believe I was born to do. Either that, or write songs.” She reached across the table and took a sip of his drink. “I’ve got music in my head. It never goes away. Tunes and little blips that can be songs if I put them together and smooth them out.”
Zeke’s heart hurt for her. This w
as no whimsical desire. She’d called it right. It was what she’d been born to do. “That song you sang the last time I was here. It was beautiful.”
“ ‘Shattered Dreams’?”
Zeke nodded. Until now, he hadn’t remembered the title. “You have a God-given gift. To waste it is a crime.” He turned his glass, watching the way the ice glistened and bobbed in the Coke. “With music and words and voice, you have the power to reach people in a way most of us never can, Natalie. It’s more than just a need within you. It’s a responsibility.”
Her eyes went suspiciously bright, and she blinked. “Where were you twelve years ago? I’m thirty. It’s too late for me now.”
“Bullshit. You’re not too old.” Zeke shoved a hand through his hair. “Damn it. I look at you, and all I see is beautiful. You can still do it, honey. All you need is to believe in yourself.”
“I’ve always believed in myself.” She shot him a look that dared him to condemn her for that. “Where it involves music, at any rate, I know I’ve got something special. I knew it at five, and it was a volcano inside me all during my growing-up years. Pop supported me. My mother always did, too. But I didn’t choose a husband who would stand behind me.”
In that moment, Zeke leaped into that knee-deep cement with both feet. Looking at her sweet face, seeing the yearning in her beautiful eyes, he couldn’t have walked away to save his life. She was it for him. He felt it in his bones.
It was frightening as hell. But when that primal shiver of warning ran up his spine, he ignored it this time. When he grew old, he didn’t want to look back on tonight and kick himself for making the worst mistake of all, running in the wrong direction.
“I’m falling in love with you,” he said huskily. “I think you should know that.”
Her face drained of color. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m falling in love with you. It’s not what I set out to do. It just happened. I’m scared shitless. I won’t lie to you about it. But I’m not walking away from this.”
She laughed shrilly, the sound a little hysterical. “But you’re a confirmed bachelor. A sardine in a can who likes empty bathrooms. Remember?”
“Not anymore, I’m not.” Zeke gulped down the remainder of his drink and slapped the empty glass on the table. “And just so we understand each other, I’m not looking for a short-term deal. If you return my feelings, don’t make the decision lightly, because I won’t make life easy for you. I don’t believe in giving up on dreams. God gives people talent like yours for a reason.” He pushed to his feet. “If I have to push and prod you every step of the way, I won’t allow you to waste yours.”
If Zeke Coulter had been a rodeo cowboy, Natalie would have laughed at his avowal of love and gone home smiling at the absurdity of it all. But he was as steady as a rock, a man who seemed to stand by his word and who never spoke lightly.
He wasn’t the only one who was scared. Natalie was shaking with nerves as she set the alarm and left the club. She couldn’t be like Valerie, taking her pleasure where she found it, then waltzing away to paint her toenails. And anything more serious than that was terrifying to her. She’d tried the forever stuff, and it hadn’t worked out. She couldn’t go through that kind of heartbreak again.
Once in her rattletrap Chevy, Natalie sat there with the doors locked, feeling claustrophobic and staring at nothing as she came to grips with an undeniable truth. Just the thought of having sex with Zeke Coulter scared her half to death.
Her hands trembled as she inserted the key into the ignition. Life was okay right now. She loved her family. At night she could throw on an oversized T-shirt, forget to brush her teeth, and make love to her pillow as she fell asleep. There were worse things.
“You look like hell,” Valerie said when Natalie walked in the back door a half hour later.
“Thanks. I feel even worse.”
Valerie sank down on a kitchen chair and drew up her feet to sit cross-legged. Her nightshirt revealed enviously firm legs from calf to thigh, which made Natalie grind her teeth. She tossed her purse onto the table and went to the sink for a drink of water.
Life wasn’t fair. Valerie ate pizza and pigged out on buttered popcorn at the movies. Did she put on weight? Heck no. Natalie could gain five pounds if she even smelled the stuff.
“Well,” Valerie said peevishly, “you’re in a great mood.”
“I’m doing menopause twenty years early and packing a gun. Leave me alone.” Natalie downed the water, set the glass on the counter, and turned to face her sister. “You are such a child. Get a wrinkle, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to talk to you.”
“Well, shit.” Valerie jerked her nightshirt up and plucked a pack of Marlboros out of her panties. “That’s got a man written all over it.”
Natalie had never seen her sister smoke. She wondered where Valerie kept the lighter. Her sister answered that question by fishing deeper into her panties and pulling out a red Bic. She tapped a cigarette from the pack, lit up, and blissfully blew out a trail of smoke.
“That’s a terrible habit.”
“My substitute for sex,” Valerie said with an impish grin. “You should try it. God knows you need something to relax you.”
“Don’t do it around my kids.”
Valerie bugged her eyes. “Have I so far? Get off my back. I’m depressed. All right? I’m sending out job apps and résumés every day and getting no responses.”
“Why don’t you try something besides secretarial positions?”
“Why don’t you try something besides singing?”
Natalie was too tired to spar with her sister. She waved her hand and said, “Good night. Go ahead and turn your lungs black. I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass.”
“What crawled up your butt?”
Natalie started from the kitchen. At the archway, she turned back. “Do you realize that you may have saggy boobs and tapioca thighs in five short years? If you have a kid or two in the meantime, it’s guaranteed.”
Valerie lowered the cigarette from her mouth without taking another drag. “What?”
“Right now, you think you’ll be young and beautiful forever,” Natalie informed her. “But that isn’t how it works. Every woman gets ten, maybe fifteen years of young and beautiful. That’s her allotment, period. One day, she’s eighteen and the world’s her oyster. The next, she’s thirty, and young and beautiful are only a memory.” Natalie sighed raggedly. “You don’t realize what’s happening at first. You kid yourself when you look in the mirror, only studying your best side. You stuff yourself into old jeans that are way too tight and think you still look pretty good. Then, one sad day when you’re cleaning your car, you look into the rearview mirror when the sun’s beating down on your face, and you see itty-bitty lines around your eyes and on your cheeks and at the corners of your mouth. It’s a shock. You’re not young anymore. You think there must be a fix, so you rush out to buy moisturizer and wrinkle-concealing foundation. But guess what? It doesn’t help.”
“Well, shit. Cheer me up, why don’t ya?”
Tears burned in Natalie’s eyes. “Zeke says he’s falling in love with me.”
Valerie choked on an inhalation of smoke. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she flicked ashes into her cupped palm. When she recovered, she got up to fish in the recycle bin under the sink for an empty food can to use as an ashtray.
When she resumed her seat, she said, “Zeke Coulter’s falling in love with you, and that’s bad news?”
Natalie braced a hand against the archway to pluck off her shoes. She groaned and wiggled her toes. “God, I hate high heels. A man must have invented them.”
Valerie took another drag from the cigarette as Natalie made her way back to the table. “Let’s castrate the whole bunch of them. Well, maybe we should spare a half dozen or so. A lady needs her fun, after all.”
Natalie giggled as she collapsed onto a chair, too exhausted to feel devastated anymore. Letting her head fall back, she stared at the ceiling.
A cobweb dangled from the ceiling fixture. “I’m comfortable the way things are right now. I can throw on a dingy old nightshirt and no one hassles me.”
“Don’t you miss sex?”
“Of course I miss it. I just don’t miss all the troubles that came with it. Maybe I’ll get a vibrator. An appliance can’t make your life miserable. Right?”
“Not all guys are like Robert.”
“Maybe not. I honestly don’t care anymore.” Natalie dropped her chin to look her sister in the eye. “You can have Zeke, after all. I can’t do this.”
Valerie held up a hand. “No way. Do I have ‘dumb’ printed on my forehead? I’m not touching him with a ten-foot pole.”
“Me, neither.” Natalie stretched out an arm. “Give me a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke.”
“Maybe I’ll start.”
“It’ll damage your voice.”
“One cigarette won’t damage my voice. Besides, what am I saving it for? I’ll never make it big. That’s another thing you live with after thirty, that you missed your window of opportunity.”
Valerie thought about it for a moment and then reached into her panties again for the Marlboros. As she tossed the pack onto the table, she said, “If we’re gonna get wild and woolly, we should do it right. We got any booze around here?”
Natalie glanced around the kitchen. “I don’t think so.” Then she brightened. “Gramps. He keeps gallon jugs of cheap wine under his bed. When I was looking for his Preparation H, I found two full bottles under there.”
“Oh, yeah.” Valerie grinned. “I could snatch it while I was singing ‘God Bless America.’ He’s deaf as a post.”
“Bet you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Dare ya.”
Minutes later, Natalie was doing something unprecedented, getting drunk with her baby sister. Maybe it was only the wine, or maybe it was just a meeting of minds after twenty-five years, but Valerie suddenly seemed to make sense.
“You know what your problem is?” Valerie asked.
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