Sweet Harmony

by LuAnn McLane

  “Come on, it was the attack of the killer suitcase. That thing is a monster on wheels. Do you really think I’m overreacting?” she asked with an arch of one eyebrow.

  “A little.” He gave her a slight grin. “Although that overstuffed monster does weigh a ton.” He tilted his head in the direction of the suitcase. When he knelt down beside her she got a subtle whiff of spicy aftershave that made her want to lean closer. “So do you think you can move?”

  She made a show of wiggling her toes. “That’s a good sign, right?”

  He nodded. “Think you can stand up?”

  “I’m sort of afraid to try,” Cat admitted with a wince. “I think I’ll just chill here for a few minutes. Or maybe overnight.”

  “Out here with coyotes and raccoons?”

  Cat glanced toward the woods. “Okay, scratch that idea.”

  “Do you want me to carry you inside?”

  His question made her eyes widen. “No!” Cat replied, but in truth his offer held more than a little bit of appeal.

  He held up both hands in surrender. “Gotcha.”

  Although Cat could be a bit dramatic, she also thrived on being independent, so her unexpected, rather needy reaction to this perfect stranger felt confusing. She blamed it on fatigue. Or maybe low blood sugar. Or maybe she was damned tired of being strong and wanted a shoulder to lean on other than her parents, who didn’t fully understand what was going on in her life and career. No, it wasn’t that last one! Fatigue and hunger were the culprits. She glanced at those wide shoulders. Maybe.

  “Well, then at least let me help you up.”

  Cat gave him a quick nod conveying more conviction that she felt and then accepted his outstretched hands. His grip was warm and strong as he effortlessly tugged her to her feet. Cat was tall and had a solid build, but he suddenly made her feel feminine. He held on after Cat stood up, presumably to make sure she remained steady on her feet, which she wasn’t. To her dismay her legs hurt and her knees felt wobbly.

  “The offer remains,” he said with a hint of concern.

  Cat inhaled a deep breath. “I’ll be okay, really.” She stiffened her spine. “I’ve just had a long day of driving and I pushed too hard to get here. Low blood sugar,” she added. She swayed slightly as she pulled her hands from his, and he immediately put an arm lightly about her waist.

  “Are you sure about that?” His question still held concern but a slight hint of amusement.

  “I’m fine,” Cat insisted. In the cool air, his body felt warm, and she fought the urge to snuggle closer.

  “Hey, just let me help you inside. Look, I know we’re strangers, but not for long. I live in the cabin just around the bend in the road. My family owns this property and it butts up to our farm. The local real estate company handles the rentals for us. I didn’t realize you’d be moving in or I would have come over to help earlier. That’s the way we do things around here.”

  “Oh.” Cat wondered why Mia hadn’t mentioned that she would have a cute country-boy neighbor, but then maybe she didn’t know.

  “I’m just being a neighbor and a gentleman. I’ll bring your suitcase to you once you’re inside.”

  “Okay, thanks. But now that I’m standing, I’m feeling better,” she lied. “It was just the initial shock of pain that threw me for a loop. I can make it on my own.”

  “My mother always told me to err on the side of caution.”

  “And do you?” She tilted her head up to get a better look at his face. Again, Cat felt as if she somehow knew this guy, but she met so many people, and it was embarrassing when she failed to remember names. Having ADD certainly didn’t help matters. “Well?” she prompted, still racking her brain for his name.

  “No.” Oh, there were those dimples again. “Dare me and I’ll do it. It’s kind of a country boy thing.”

  He helped her up the three steps to the front porch that Cat knew wrapped around to the back to overlook the river in the distance. She knew there was a grill, a swing, and a hot tub, all visible in Mia’s pictures. Unfortunately, her friend had had to head out of town to watch her husband play baseball, or she would have been there to greet Cat. “Oh, I forgot. There is supposed to be a packet with keys and instructions in the mailbox.”

  “Sit down here in the chair and I’ll go get it for you.”

  “Thank you.” Cat eased into the big wooden rocking chair and watched her neighbor walk across the lawn. While she wanted the cabin in the woods for solitude, it was comforting to know she’d have what seemed to be a nice guy nearby to rely upon if an emergency occurred. He certainly oozed small-town charm, and she suddenly wondered whether he had a girlfriend, but then quickly squashed that thought. She was on a mission to switch gears in her music career and didn’t need any complications to get in the way.

  And yet Cat looked at the flannel stretching across his shoulders and suppressed a sigh. Because she stood at five foot nine, Cat was always attracted to big, tall men. Throw a sexy Southern drawl into the mix, add arresting blue eyes, and he was quite a pleasant package. The dimples and crooked smile were just an added bonus.

  Mia must have known that Cat would find this guy attractive, and she wondered whether the location of her cabin near his was more than a coincidence. Cat nibbled the inside of her lip. Surely her friend wasn’t trying to do any matchmaking. Well, if so, Mia’s efforts weren’t going to work. Although Cat did have an unfortunate knack for ending up with jerks for boyfriends. Maybe a matchmaker wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Cat watched his long, lazy stride and realized she was staring. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, trying to act nonchalant as he approached.

  “Here you go.” He handed her the packet. “By the way, in all the commotion I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Jeff Greenfield.”

  “Really?” Cat raised her eyebrows. So that’s why he seemed so familiar. “‘Outta My Mind with Lovin’ You’? I was singing along just a little while ago when it came on the radio. I love the lyrics. Did you write it?”

  “I did.” Jeff smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re with My Way Records.”

  “Yes …” Jeff said, then tilted his head sideways. “Oh boy—wait. You’re Cat Carson.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “You sang at my brother’s wedding.”

  “Right. A couple of years ago! Gosh, that slipped my mind.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. I guess I was so concerned with you being hurt …”

  Cat waved him off. “If you don’t mind, I’d like my residence here to be kept under wraps. I’m planning on doing some songwriting and I’d like some peace and quiet.”

  “Aren’t you with Sweetside Records?”

  “Not anymore,” Cat answered darkly.

  “Wait. Did you sign with My Way Records?”

  Cat paused. “Yes, but keep it quiet, please? It was a year from hell with legal issues. Plus, Rick wants to make an official announcement after I get some songs written and a single ready to release. He’s going to team me up with Maria Sully!” She looked at Jeff to get his reaction.

  “She’s one of the best songwriters in the business,” Jeff agreed. “I’ve always been so proud that Maria’s from Cricket Creek.”

  “You should be, but I have to admit that I was surprised. I thought she lived in Nashville.”

  Jeff nodded. “Maria moved to Nashville years ago when she and Pete Sully split up. He owns Sully’s Tavern, not far from here.”

  “So when did Maria come back to Cricket Creek?”

  “Maria returned last Christmas when Clint came home from California because Pete was having health problems.”

  “Clint?”

  “He’s their son. Clint let Maria know what was up when he came here to check up on his dad. Of course, everybody’s hoping they get back together.”

  Cat raised her eyebrows. “You know all of this?”

  “Of course.” Jeff chuckled. “Oh, the story gets better t
han that. When Clint came home to look after his dad, he reunited with his high school sweetheart, Ava Whimsy.” Jeff’s grin remained. “To be fair, Ava’s family farm butts up to the Greenfield farm, so we know her family well.”

  “But still …”

  “It’s a small town, Cat. That’s how we roll. You’d best get used to it.”

  Nibbling on her lip, Cat mulled his statement over for a moment.

  “Hey, it’s not idle gossip. We care about each other,” Jeff said with a hint of defensiveness.

  Jeff looked so sincere that Cat couldn’t help but smile. She had the odd urge to put her hand over his, but refrained. “I believe you, and—trust me—I am so thrilled. I can’t wait to meet Maria and get started at My Way Records.”

  “But you just came off a big year. I don’t get why you’d want to switch to a small label when you were with the big dogs.”

  Cat shrugged. “It’s simple. Rick Ruleman will let me take my music in the direction I want it to go.”

  “Which would be?”

  “Less pop-sounding and more traditional,” Cat answered, and watched for his reaction. He tried to hide it, but she could feel Jeff’s slight but sudden withdrawal. She understood. Jeff’s music was traditional country, much like legendary George Strait, and she bet he wasn’t a fan of her songs. Old-school country artists often felt as if singers like her were simply jumping on the country bandwagon. Although popular with fans, they weren’t taken seriously by the icons in the industry.

  “That’s … um, good,” Jeff said, but shoved his hands in his pockets and his gaze flicked away. “I mean, I do get it. I wanted complete control over my career too.”

  Cat arched an eyebrow. “So, I have to ask, do you switch the station when one of my songs comes on?”

  “No,” he answered a bit too quickly. “Why would I do that?”

  “Oh, if I might be so bold to ask, do you have a favorite song of mine? Just curious.” She gave him an innocent look and waited.

  His mouth worked but nothing came out. “Um, ‘Sail’ … um … ‘Moonlight,’ um …”

  “‘It’s a Sail-Away Summer’?” Just because she wanted to go in another direction now didn’t mean she wasn’t proud of her beach-themed songs, many of which she had written. Cat just didn’t want to do them exclusively.

  Jeff rocked back on his heels and nodded a bit too hard. “Yes, uh, that one.”

  “Or did you mean ‘Moonlight Dance’?”

  “Oh, I like them both.”

  Cat suspected he liked neither. “Thank you.”

  Jeff nodded but appeared a bit uncomfortable.

  Cat gave him a smile that felt rather stiff. She’d certainly felt the backlash of having her star rise swiftly, making some artists feel as if she hadn’t paid her dues. And because her music bridged the gap between pop and country, she had a wide following, much like Sheryl Crow, Kelly Clarkson, Taylor Swift, and Carrie Underwood. When she’d won female vocalist of the year at the Country Music Awards two years earlier, Cat had felt the heat in more ways than one. That’s when she’d started to reexamine where her life and her career were headed and found the need to make changes.

  “You have a huge fan base,” Jeff added, as if that would make up for his obvious lack of interest or knowledge of her music.

  “I’m lucky to have such loyal listeners.” Cat adored her fans and loved her songs, but she was tired of doing the same themes, which were starting to blend together and feel stale. “I don’t want to disappoint them, but I’m going to explore more traditional country with a splash of bluegrass,” she explained, thinking that admission might change the expression that he was politely trying to hide. Although she’d moved to Nashville three years before, most people thought she was a city girl from Chicago, where her parents still lived. In fact, she’d spent her early childhood in South Carolina. “And get back to my Southern roots,” she finished.

  He only nodded.

  “Let me guess—” Cat gripped the arms of the chair. “You don’t take me seriously.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Wow.” Jeff tilted his head to the side. “So you can read minds?”

  “No, I read faces and it’s written all over yours.”

  “Really?” Jeff leaned back against the railing. “And maybe you are making assumptions that you shouldn’t.”

  And maybe she was suddenly tired and sore and grumpy. “Right. Listen, I can get my things from here.”

  “Don’t be stu—silly. I’ll get your suitcase. You’ll have a tough time getting it up the steps.”

  “Watch me,” Cat boasted, knowing she sounded stubborn and childish. “Thanks for your help,” she added, but didn’t sound all that thankful. What was wrong with her?

  “No way. I won’t allow it,” Jeff insisted and turned on his heel.

  “Won’t allow it? Are you kidding me? Did you really just say that?” Cat stood up, but when the blood rushed down her legs she sucked in a sharp breath. She was going to be so sore tomorrow. She knew she was overreacting, but she’d been pushed around enough for the past year and she wasn’t about to be told what she couldn’t do any longer.

  Jeff turned around and gave her a concerned frown. Well, she was standing now, so she was invested. Gritting her teeth, she took a tentative step forward. Not too bad. Apparently she was just going to have massive bruising—not that bruises were anything new. Cat had a knack for getting distracted and running into things. With a bracing intake of breath, she moved forward, brushing past Jeff, but had to grab on to the handrail for dear life.

  “What exactly are you trying to prove?”

  More things than she could begin to count. “That I don’t need your help.” Petulance wasn’t in her nature, but she just couldn’t stop.

  “This sudden burst of anger is all because I don’t know your songs?”

  Are you that vain? remained unspoken, but Cat felt it when Jeff glanced over at her. She was used to having people make assumptions, but in reality her daily life was nothing remotely close to the rumors or gossip that showed up in the tabloids. Cat also tended to be outspoken about issues that she believed in and that also sometimes landed her in hot water. She usually had a fairly thick skin, but for some reason Jeff’s apparent judgment put her on the defensive.

  When he folded his arms across his chest and looked at her expectantly, she refused to dignify his question with an answer.

  “Thanks again for your help, but you can leave now. I’ve got this.” Cat felt his eyes on her as she walked stiffly across the lawn to the suitcase. Her legs did hurt in an achy kind of way, but she did her best to ignore the discomfort. Carly Simon’s song “Haven’t Got Time for the Pain” filtered into her head, and Cat had to smile. Her mind continuously revolved around lyrics, sometimes making her feel as if she were living in her own personal musical. Her brain was a Wikipedia of songs and she could give anybody a run for their money with music trivia. There was so much more to her than catchy beach tunes, and she longed to prove that she had more depth and talent than people were giving her credit for.

  Grabbing the handle, she raised it upward and rolled the heavy thing awkwardly across the lawn, hoping Jeff would get bored with the embarrassing situation and decide to leave her to her own devices.

  Of course she was wrong. With his arms still folded across his chest, he leaned against the railing looking all smug. And hot. No! Scratch the hot part. Cat paused at the first step, gathering her waning strength. This was silly. She should allow him to help and yet she couldn’t bring herself to give in and ask for it.

  Cat took a deep breath and muttered a silent prayer, but before she could even begin to try to lift the suitcase Jeff swiftly descended the steps and grabbed the handle from her.

  “Hey!” Cat protested, but secretly she was very glad for his help. “I could have managed,” she added, trying not to admire his nice butt in his Wrangler jeans.

  “I have no doub
t.” Jeff positioned the suitcase close to the front door and then turned around to face her. “But my mother taught me to be a gentleman. Put some ice on those bruises.” He waited until she nodded. “My number is listed on the contacts in the packet. If you need ice packs or anything, please don’t hesitate to call. Okay?”

  “Sure.” Cat nodded, but she wasn’t about to call him.

  Jeff hesitated and then said, “It wasn’t my intention to insult you. I’m really not like that.”

  “And it isn’t in my nature to be so stubborn.”

  “Really?”

  “Maybe a teensy bit …” She held up her finger and thumb to demonstrate.

  His slight grin and the appearance of the damned dimples got to her in ways she couldn’t begin to understand. Cat pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling oddly vulnerable, needing a hug so badly that she took a quick step backward and knocked the suitcase over. When it landed with a loud thud, she yelped and then felt super silly yet again. Cat closed her eyes and sighed. “Look, it’s all good,” she assured him, but when she attempted a smile, to her horror it wobbled a bit. She hoped he didn’t notice. “It’s just been a long day.” She faked a yawn. And a long year.

  Jeff’s expression softened even more and when he stepped forward Cat thought for a heart-pounding second that he was going to give her the hug she so sorely needed. But he moved past her and righted the suitcase.

  Cat swallowed hard and tamped down her disappointment. “Can I help you get the suitcase or anything else inside?”

  “No, I can manage. Well, from here, anyway. My clumsiness knows no bounds.”

  “You don’t look clumsy.”

  “Trust me—I can trip over my own shadow. Walking forward while looking sideways often ends in disaster. But I’ve got this from here.”

  He looked as if he were about to protest but then nodded. “Welcome to Cricket Creek, Cat.”

  “Thank you, Jeff,” Cat said, and watched him walk away. She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, that was an interesting little Welcome Wagon,” she whispered. Then she reached inside the packet to retrieve her keys and open the door to her new life.