Chapter Nine
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AND SO IT begins.
The wait.
It was the day after Brandi’s biopsies and she hadn’t heard a word. She knew it could take several days to hear, but after her initiation into biopsy horror with her mom, she had no patience. And in her experience, the outcome had always been bad. Very bad.
“Now, I don’t want you worrying yourself sick,” Doctor Turner had said when he’d driven her home yesterday.
The sweetheart had rescheduled his afternoon appointments after discovering she’d arrived at the hospital for the procedure by herself. He’d even arranged to get her truck home. What a nice man. Of course, she’d made him promise not to tell anyone. His handsome face had frowned in protest, but he’d eventually agreed.
“You know this is just routine, right?” He’d settled her on the couch, doting on her like a child, tossing a quilt over her after flipping on the air conditioning. Mozart had immediately settled on top of the blanket, happily kneading while the doctor added, “Just because your mother had cancer does not mean you do.”
She knew this. She really did, but as the hours wore on, her doubts increased. Flopping onto her mattress, she stared at the ceiling. Painted a soft blue, it was quite different from the ceiling she’d stared at yesterday at this time.
Told to lay still and not swallow while the endocrinologist shoved a needle into her throat to gather cells from her goiters, she’d counted the ruts in the ceiling blocks above her head. Six times. Each biopsy had only lasted a minute, but seemed a lot longer when told not to swallow. As the doctor pumped the skinny needle in and out at a rapid pace, she’d imagined her fingers on the neck of her violin, playing the intricate chords of one of her favorite and toughest songs. She’d heard the music. Felt the indenture of the strings under her fingers and found her happy place. The image of a sexy sheriff with smoldering gray eyes and magical hands had also made an appearance. Yes, Kade was definitely a happy place. And as she forced herself to remain still on the hospital bed, she’d made a promise to herself to visit those places again in reality.
Now, twenty-four hours later, Brandi had the perfect opportunity to cross one off her list.
She rolled off the mattress, got on her hands and knees and stared at the lone case sitting under her bed. All as Mozart watched through a lazy gaze.
“Come on, Wyne. Just do it,” she said out loud and grabbed the handle to pull the case close. “You need to practice for the upcoming Guard dinner, anyhow.”
Why the hell had she agreed to that? Oh, yeah, right. Her father had asked her…okay, more like told the committee she’d be happy to perform at an upcoming dinner in Houston in a few weeks. Brandi looked forward to seeing her father and brother, Ben, at the dinner, just not the playing—still a few too many dark memories attached to performing. Sighing, she lifted the case to her bed, and once again, stared at the small black container she’d recently nicknamed Pandora.
The heavy, suppressive weight she’d felt whenever near the case the past year was much lighter. Maybe Pandora was on a diet. She chuckled, noting her throat was not as sore as yesterday. And despite the discomfort of a scratchy throat, her voice remained fairly unaffected, with only a miniscule deepening of her tone. Thank God for small miracles. At least she wouldn’t draw attention to herself.
“Okay, you can do this.”
On an indrawn breath, she opened the lid, expecting the weight in her chest to increase, but it remained the same. She blew out the breath and gingerly lifted her violin out of the velvet indenture.
Intense feelings, some good and some bad, rushed through her from head to toe, settling in her tight chest. She swallowed a few times, blinked a few more and the tightness lessened. Placing the violin on the bed, she glanced at the cat and shook her head.
“You know the drill.”
Sniffing, she unlatched the bow and rosin and prepared the neglected hair. She was doing this. This was going to happen. Now. One song. She’d get through one song. Baby steps. Bow completely rosined, she placed the violin on her shoulder, put her chin in the chin rest, and before she could think another thought, played the first song that came to mind.
Beethoven’s “5th.”
As her fingers slid across the strings, hitting the chords, bow connecting to create the sound she’d fallen in love with at an early age, she relaxed and gave herself over to the music. Sweet, soft, hard and passionate, the violin encompassed it all. Every time her mother had undergone a biopsy or procedure, Brandi had played and played until her fingers bled. Music was her out. The violin was an extension of herself, one she realized she’d missed. Why the hell had she hidden it away all these months?
Oh, right. It also reminded her of suppression, and duty, and control, and she’d packed it away, along with the bad memories that took the joy out of playing.
Until today.
She’d left Ed, resigned her position with the Philharmonic—a position she once coveted, until he made her hate every single minute—and went back to designing, something she’d always found as a good, creative outlet.
And she was happy for the first time in a long time. She enjoyed designing. Couldn’t imagine not designing. But now that she’d caressed the neck of her old friend, the reunion was sweet. The instrument would no longer remain packed away, collecting dust under her bed. No. She’d figure something out. But, she still had to work through the negative feelings. Playing for fun was easier than playing for commitment. She needed to go slow.
“My goodness!”
“Holy shit, girl!”
Brandi stiffened, the bow screeching across the strings in a sharp stop. She twisted around to find Kerri and Jordan standing in her bedroom blinking.
“I-I didn’t hear you come in,” she stammered, trying to ignore the fact she stood there gripping a violin and bow in her hands.
“Wow…” Kerri rushed forward. “That was incredible.”
“Yes, I had no idea you played,” Jordan said, stepping further into the room. “Do you do anything like Apocalyptica?”
She loved the band and their interpretation of rock with her beloved string instruments. “Yes. Some.” In fact, she did a lot of different musical genres, having always loved the challenge.
Jordan sank onto the bed and cocked her head. “Are you getting sick?”
Really? She should’ve known better. “No. Throat’s just a little dry.”
“Oh.” The shrewd beauty nodded, then smiled. “So, can you play some Apocalyptica?”
“Yeah, they’re great,” Kerri agreed, fussing with her phone.
Tightness returned to Brandi’s chest. “I…I don’t know.”
She placed her violin and bow back in the case, then closed the lid, wanting to close the lid on the whole subject. But Bulldog McCall and her sister had caught her scent. She was screwed.
Mozart stood and stretched, then purred and rubbed against Jordan who scratched under the feline’s collar.
“You’d played for the Philharmonic?” Kerri asked. “Why didn’t you say?”
How the hell did she…
“That was way too good for a closet player. I had to look you up on the net.” Her friend held up her smart phone with a photo of Brandi and the rest of the orchestra in some sort of photo op last year.
The band across her chest tightened. She pushed past the woman and strode into the living room as if the subject would remain in the bedroom with Pandora.
“Brandi, hey.” Kerri caught up with her, took her hand and pulled her to the couch where they sat down. “Hun, you don’t just get a job with an orchestra. You have to be great.”
She stared at her hand. “I auditioned.”
“Exactly.”
Great, now Jordan sat in the chair next to them.
“Says here, you had to audition and interview.” Kerri pointed to her phone.
Brandi sighed. “Yeah, there was a process. So?”
“So, you’re better than good. You
had to be great. Committed.”
Yeah, she was certifiable right about now. She laughed. “Probably should be.”
Jordan smiled, but Kerri frowned.
“Why did you leave?”
“Yeah.” The older sister leaned forward. “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re designing, but, why leave a music career like that? You had to love music and playing in order to achieve what you did.”
Fighting tears, Brandi blew out a breath and nodded. “I did. Do,” she corrected.
Kerri squeezed the hand she still held and waited for her to glance up. “What happened?”
Blame it on the stress and worry of the past twenty-four hours, or the exhaustion of keeping her past a bit of secret, Brandi sighed and told them the whole story about Ed. About how he loved the limelight her position with the orchestra gave him. How he wouldn’t let her miss any venue or show, and made sure she practiced daily. How he took something she loved and killed it.
“At first, I thought it was so great that he understood how much music meant to me, even at the expense of time spent together.” She laughed without mirth. “Boy, was I wrong. He only wanted the spotlight my little bit of fame afforded him. He didn’t give a damn about me.”
“Oh, hun, I’m so glad you told him good-bye.” Kerri hugged her close.
“I hope you kicked his ass,” Jordan said, her hands balling into fists. “Because if not, I’d be more than happy to fly up there and do it for you.”
This time, genuine laughter bubbled up her throat. “That would be great to see, but he’s not worth it.”
It may have taken her months to realize that, but at least she had, then packed up and left him. Taking her fat and violin with her, leaving him free to find someone else to boss around and control.
She sat back and wiped her face. “I’m sorry to have kept it from you. It’s just that it’s still a bit raw.”
Like her throat, but she wasn’t going to burden them with her latest problem.
“Well, I hope, when you’re ready, you’ll play whatever you want at the pub,” Jordan said, leaning forward to squeeze her knee. “People here will love it. Classical, rock, country. You know how they pack in every Tuesday for amateur night. They’d be thrilled to hear someone of your caliber. Trust me.”
“I-I’m not ready for that, Jordan. I just couldn’t yet.” Bad enough she had to do this Guard thing in a few weeks.
The woman squeezed one last time, then sat back. “When you’re ready, hun. Just think about it.”
Brandi nodded, hoping it got them to drop the subject. “So…” She cleared her throat, and tried to cover the wince in reaction. “What are you doing here?”
“We actually came to take you to the pub. There’s a great band playing tonight, and you haven’t been doing anything but work.”
“Yes, we’re here to make sure you come and have some fun for a few hours.”
Her stomached knotted. She didn’t want to laugh and pretend to have fun. Not with the big ‘C’ hanging over her head. And yet, she was tired of sitting and waiting for the phone to ring with results.
“I don’t know. I have some plans to go over.”
“No.” Jordan stood. “You have some plans to have fun. Starting now. Go get changed. Put on a killer shirt and tight pair of jeans.”
All her jeans were tight.
“And don’t forget boots. Guys love boots.”
“Wait, guys? No one said anything about guys.” She sat back down.
Kerri and Jordan exchanged a determined look, then each grabbed an arm and escorted her into her room. Mozart glanced at them and yawned. Lot of help he was…the traitor.
She grasped the violin case and pushed it back under the bed, hoping when she stood, they’d be gone. They weren’t. And they were in her closet.
“Here.”
Jordan shoved a solid burgundy, scoop-necked T-shirt at her the girls had insisted she buy during their recent shopping trip. She’d had no intention of wearing the form-fitting shirt. Heck, the tags were still on it. And she’d shoved it way into the back of the closet.
“And these.”
Kerri slapped a pair of jeans on the bed Brandi had purchased at the same time.
“And your Ariat’s. I love those boots.”
With both sisters staring from her to the clothes on the bed, Brandi had no choice. “Fine.” They weren’t moving. Apparently they didn’t trust her. Double fine. She stripped and was about to shrug into the outfit when Jordan held up a hand.
“Wait. The underwear, too.”
“What? Why?” Crap, she was just not up for this.
Kerri touched her arm. “Sexy underwear always makes us feel better. And we know you have some. We were there when you bought it, remember?”
Remember? How could she forget? They’d practically thrust the pink lacy thong and matching bra in her arms, and because the store actually had her size, she’d let them, figuring she could at least wear the outfit under clothes to make her feel better.
Shoot. She just proved their point.
“Fine.” Grumbling, she grabbed the lace from a drawer, and when she turned around the sisters were gone and door was shut. She glanced at Mozart curled up on her jeans, staring at her. “A little too late, buddy.”
And because she wouldn’t put it past the Masters sisters to check, Brandi quickly changed into all the suggested clothing, stepped from the room, and lifted her shirt. “See? It’s all on.”
Matching pleased expressions lit her friends’ faces, and they nodded.
“Good. Let’s go,” Jordan said, heading for the door Kerri held open.
An hour later, Brandi dropped back into the booth they’d commandeered, wondering what was in the water. She’d danced with four different cowboys in the last half hour alone. Although it was fun and kept her mind occupied, she was tired and needed a break.
“Your dance card sure is full tonight, darlin’,” Connor said, sliding her water closer.
She drank half the glass then turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, and yes, it’s kind of weird.”
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “Proves cowboy’s have good taste.”
“Awe, thanks.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then added, “Darlin’.”
Jordan and her husband laughed from the other side of the table. Then Cole straightened and nodded toward the door.
“Hey, the Daltons are here. Why don’t we move to a bigger table?”
And before Brandi knew it, she was sandwiched between Connor and Kade, with Kevin, Jordan and Cole on the other side.
“If either of you want to dance with Brandi, you’d better put your request in now,” Connor said.
And at that moment, she would’ve been quite happy to have the floor swallow her whole.
“Yeah.” Cole nodded. “She’s got them lining up tonight.”
Okay, in pieces. Swallow her in pieces. Anything so she didn’t have to respond or glance at the silent sheriff.
The blue-eyed Dalton smiled from across the table. “Well now, of course she does. The woman’s beautiful, ain’t she, cuz?”
Pieces or whole. She wasn’t partial. Just let the swallowing commence.
Kade turned to her, and he was seated so close she could feel his breath. “Yep,” he said, then added in a low, thong-melting tone only she could hear. “Every inch.”
Oh, look at that. Her thong melted.
She reached for her water and sucked down the rest. Damn, the man was hot. Real hot. Her body was on fire. But he didn’t ask her to dance, or say anything else. Just sat there staring, gaze unreadable. She got the impression he was almost angry.
“Hi, everyone.”
Jace appeared at the table, saving her from…from herself probably.
“Hi, Jace.” Kevin slapped the doctor on the back. “Pull up a chair.”
The doc smiled, but shook his head. “Thanks, but I came over to ask Brandi to dance.”
Oh, thank you, Lord. An escape route. The swee
theart continued to be a big help this week.
“Love to.” She set her empty glass on the table and stood, noting the silent sheriff stiffen.
With a smile, Jace took her hand and led her to the crowded floor where other couples two-stepped to the band playing their heart out on stage.
“Any news?”
“No.”
He squeezed the hand he held at his chest. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay.”
His gaze narrowed. “You sure? You’re awfully warm.”
She laughed before she could stop. Yeah, courtesy of the hotty sheriff. “Dancing will do that,” she said instead.
He studied her a moment then nodded. “Dance with Kade yet?”
Her feet suddenly forgot how to work. She stumbled with elephant-like grace. His grip tightened and he pulled her close.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her face heated to fairly mortified.
“So, I’ll take that as a no to dancing with Kade.”
“Yes, I mean, no. I didn’t dance with the sheriff,” she said. “We’re just friends.”
The doc tossed his head back and laughed, without missing a step. “Right. That’s why he’s looking at me like he’d like to demote me.”
This time she laughed, her heart dipping at that thought for some reason. “Nah, he probably just had a rough day at work.”
“With Donny as his deputy, it’s no wonder.”
They were still laughing when the song ended and he walked her back toward the table. “You hang in there, okay? If you need to talk, call me.”
With the Daltons and McCalls watching, all she dared do was squeeze the good doctor’s hand. “Thanks,” she said then released him.
He turned to the table and nodded, then walked back into the crowd.
Before she could sit back down, another cowboy approached and asked her to dance. This went on for a whole half hour. Finally, she told the next one thank you, but no and made her way back to her chair, noting Kade was now sitting at the bar with Connor.
She’d passed the sheriff on the floor a few times, but other than a nod, he never said a word. Neither had she. What was there to say? They’d had their night of sex. Were keeping it simple. So, why was it Kade’s chest she wanted to bury her face against? Why was it his arms she wanted wrapped around her tight as he told her everything was going to be fine? She dropped into her chair and refilled her glass from the water pitcher, happy to have the table to herself.
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