He took her by the hand and squeezed. His eyes flashed with anger. “We don’t tell them a damned thing,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Especially Emily. Besides, what claim does he have on her? My name’s on her birth certificate. You said so yourself--I’m her father. He left you. He abandoned Emily. Hell, he came to the house and practically gloated, since I was married to you, he was relieved he didn’t have to be saddled with a baby.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Abby, we can’t tell anyone. Do you understand what the truth would do to them? To Emily?
She nodded and clutched the folds of her skirt. The falsehood suddenly rubbed wrong on the painful spot in her heart belonging to Seth. “I suppose.”
He smiled and stepped away from the railing. “I better get back before someone sees us and thinks the unthinkable.” He squeezed her hand again before letting it go. “Abby, I’ve always been your friend. Nothing’s changed. I’m here if you need me. Don’t let your feelings for Seth sway you. Keeping Emily away from him is best for her. Think about how finding out about this will affect Mom. None of us want to bury her next.”
She nodded and smiled, but it felt forced. He was right. Carolann’s sick heart couldn’t take the pain or the stress if she discovered the truth about her only grandchild. “I know. Now, get back in there to that jealous wife of yours.”
He ambled across the yard and went around the corner of the house. She hugged herself and made her way to the old gazebo in the corner of the green expanse of grass. A grove of pecan trees provided shade for the structure. She plunged into the cool darkness when she stepped under the deeply pitched roof. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness.
She ran her hand over the chipped white paint of the banister.
“Remember when you, Mike and I painted this old thing?”
At the sound of the deep voice, she spun, her hand going over her heart. Seth stood up from the swing hanging from the rafters on the other side. “Seth...”
She sucked in a breath and it caught in her throat. Time had changed him, but it had also made him even more devastatingly handsome. The dark tailored pants showed off his long legs and above-average height. The white dress shirt fit like a custom glove, outlining his broad shoulders. He’d lost the power tie he’d worn to the funeral. The top two buttons of his shirt lay open, and he’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows, showing off powerful forearms.
His coppery-blond hair curled over his collar and fell over his high forehead. A trimmed ginger-colored goatee hid the scar on his chin from a riding accident. The green ice of his eyes captured her gaze and made her heart race.
He gestured toward the pasture with a tall glass of what looked and smelled like whiskey. “I saw you and Mike. So, what happened? I thought you two would be together forever.”
She shrugged and turned away from him as he took a long sip from the glass. “I don’t see how that’s any of your damned business.”
A board in the floor creaked as he approached. She looked over her shoulder. He was so close. Her heart stuttered over a beat or two and something warm curled in her belly. How could he still affect her after everything he’d done to her?
He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. They remained two stormy seas ready to devour her in their relentless waves. “Oh, but I think it is very much my business. I want to see my daughter, Abigail.”
“You lost that right when you drove away that night.” She fisted her hands and faced him. “You lost that right when you let another man take your place in her life.”
He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. His breath reeked from the whiskey. She wrinkled her nose at the painful memories of her father’s addiction to alcohol as much as from the stench.
“You know why I had to leave. It was my one and only chance. Goddamn it, you didn’t give me any other option.”
She snorted and squared her shoulders. “You had fame and fortune to chase. I’m glad you achieved your dreams. But it came with a price.”
“I told you I’d be back. But when I returned you were married to my best friend.”
“You were gone for seven months!” She gritted her teeth against the old hurt. “You never called or wrote, but I watched that damned talent show every week and cheered you on. Then the next thing I heard, you were dating Amanda Lang from the show. I figured you made your choice. You wanted no part of me or my baby. So, I made mine.”
“Amanda and I were and are just friends. The media blew that whole duet thing out of proportion. It wasn’t until I found out you were married and gave away my little girl that we became friends with benefits.”
The memory of watching them together on the show churned inside her. Maybe the media had taken an innocent friendship of two teenagers and attached a connotation that wasn’t there. Still, he couldn’t deny he and the blond, green-eyed pop star started dating two weeks after he returned to Nashville after his winning the show and had been in an on again-off again relationship for years.
He looked into his glass of whiskey. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or write. I was eighteen and scared shitless. I had to concentrate on winning, but the whole time I was thinking about you.”
She laughed, but instead of coming out bitter, it scratched and resounded with too much raw pain. “You were scared? What the hell do you think I was? I was seventeen and pregnant. My father was dying with a brain tumor, and I had a ranch to run.”
He grabbed her arm when she spun away. “I had to sing in that competition. Otherwise, it would’ve taken ten years to get to the kind of success I got from winning America’s Rising Star. If I ever got that chance again. My mother never did. This place killed her. I couldn’t let that happen to me. Or to you and our baby.”
She swallowed but couldn’t work her constricted throat.
“I wanted you to come with me.” His voice dipped low enough it might have been on the verge of cracking. “I wanted you and our baby, Abigail. You are the one who turned your back on me. You’re the one who couldn’t wait to fall into bed with my best friend.”
Oh, how she wished she could tell him the truth about her and Mike, but she wouldn’t. She glared at his hand on her upper arm, then at him. “You’re drunk. Let go, now.”
He stepped back, letting go. She was amazed at how calm she’d sounded, because inside her a twister had taken up residence. Her heart raced and her jaw and hands ached from clenching tightly. “You knew why I couldn’t run off to Nashville with you and live on dreams and fairytales. Mike understood, and he was here when I needed him. He gave me what you wouldn’t.”
But neither of them knew the real reason she didn’t go with Seth.
When she reached the grass again, she turned toward him and folded her arms in front of her. “If you’re thinking about staying here, you can forget it. I don’t want you around. My being divorced has nothing to do with you. Mike is still Emily’s father, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
She blinked against the burn in her eyes. Damn, if she didn’t soon get out of here, she’d start bawling. “Go back to your fast cars and even faster women. Go back to your stadiums full of groupies and your high life as a Grammy-winning superstar. McAllister, Texas, has nothing for you. It never has.”
Gambling on a Dream Page 22