“You’re not okay. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“Mom, stop. I’m fine. I was just thinking about how hard you work and how I don’t thank you enough. That’s all,” Skye said.
“Did you break something? Did you crash my car? That’s it, isn’t it? Oy, mjia. You’re an accident waiting to happen.”
Skye chuckled. It was a good life she was going to give this child. A good, solid family—not without their problems, but what family wasn’t?—and a good, solid faith foundation. No matter how Gentry reacted, no matter what the level of involvement he wanted with their child, she was going to be okay. Their baby was going to be okay. “I know.”
Her phone chimed with an incoming text. “Mom, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you soon. And for the last time, I’m fine. Love you.”
The text was from Gentry. In the special event barn. Come see me.
She took another long look at the lake. Maybe her dad would teach their baby how to fish there too. Maybe Gentry would teach her or him how to play the guitar. And maybe Skye would teach her baby the best gift of all, how to stop worrying and let go and enjoy life. Maybe, by the time her baby was old enough to learn that lesson, Skye will have learned it too.
She tucked the ultrasound photos in her purse for safe keeping and set off along the path to the barn. With every step, she felt more sure of herself and more sure that telling Gentry was the right move. She heard the music before the barn even came into view, and it sounded terrific. Professional. As though Gentry had recruited the entire crew of the Buck Riders to be his backup band.
The door was ajar, so she pushed it all the way open.
She wasn’t sure who she expected to be in Gentry’s band, but the shock of seeing her grandmother on stage rocking out on keyboard, and Granny June dancing around them without a care in the world, after the rollercoaster ride of a day she’d already had, knocked the wind right out of her. She sank to the nearest hay bale to listen in.
Mama Lita was in Gentry’s band. Go figure.
At the sound of the keyboard’s melody, Skye was instantly transported to her favorite childhood memories with Mama Lita, of listening to old records at her house. Skye and Gloria would sit on the orange shag carpet of Mama Lita’s apartment while Rodrigo González, Los Nómadas, and other Mexican classic rock bands blared through the speakers, and Mama Lita regaled the girls with stories about her experiences in the La Onda movement. Sometimes, Mama Lita would play her keyboard along to the records. Sometimes, they would all dance and play air guitar along with Carlos Santana.
Back then, it had been a balm for the quiet of her own house. Her parents worked all the time. If Skye or Gloria wanted to be with them, they had to come to the resort. Mama Lita’s eclectic apartment felt more like a home than any other home she’d known—right up until Gloria moved in with her after Ruben’s death, giving her a new, loving image of home in her mind. Love and children’s laughter. The clutter of living covering every horizontal surface. The smell of beans simmering on the stove blending with the smells of children—Elmer’s glue, washable markers and soap and stinky shoes, the almost-real cheese scent of Goldfish crackers. The smells and sounds of home.
She’d never thought much about how music and the sound of grandmother’s electric organ also conjured that feeling of home. And now, her baby’s heartbeat joined those ranks. With every thump, she thought home.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Shoot. She didn’t consider herself an emotional person, but she’d wept more in the past few weeks than in the past several years combined.
She dabbed at her eyes with her finger as discretely as possible. But still, she saw a shadow cross Gentry’s face as he watched her while he sang. When she finally found the guts to meet his gaze, he flickered his eyebrows up in a silent question. You okay?
She gave him a thumbs-up.
At the end of the song, Gentry turned to the band. “Hey there. Everyone, this is Skye, Mama Lita’s granddaughter.”
The drummer, who looked strikingly similar to the drummer in Gentry’s old band, and Logan Ryder both gave her a wave. “I know her,” Logan said.
“It’s a small town, bucko. We all know each other,” Granny June added.
“Right. Okay, well, let’s sing the lady a special song. How about the new one we’ve been working on? ‘Built to Stay.’”
Had Skye heard that wrong? Or did Gentry actually just say he’d written a song about commitment—the antidote to his song “Built to Leave”? She searched out his gaze, and she found him already watching her. When their eyes met, he smiled, confident. Happy.
Logan set up the song with a twangy waltz of a melody. And then Gentry started to sing.
Skye barely heard the words to the song, her mind was spinning in so many different directions at once, but when she did tune in, when she could get past the affection and warmth in his eyes and the rich, soulful sound of his voice, she got the gist of it. The song was about building a life in a small town, one brick at a time. And about building himself into a better man, one prayer at a time. By the second run through the chorus, Skye couldn’t stop the tears again. She clenched her teeth together to keep from dissolving into actual crying. He’d written that song—and he’d written it for her.
It’s nothing you can buy ready-made
It’s gonna take a lot of hard work
And I might stumble along the way
But when I come to you,
Wanting to put that diamond ring upon your hand
When you say yes to me
It’ll because I built myself into a better man.
A man that you can love
And trust with all your heart.
There’s no shortcuts I want to take
No prayer I wouldn’t say
With my whole life ahead to spend loving you,
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
To be the kind of man who’s built to stay.
When the song ended, she clapped, a sound that echoed through the barn.
“What do you think?” Gentry said, his expression intense and searching, maybe even a little insecure. “We sound pretty good, right? I still can’t play worth a damn, but I don’t need to with these guys having my back.”
“Better than pretty good. You wrote that yourself?” Skye said.
His jaw rippled. “Yes, ma’am.”
She might have asked, Is it true? Is every word of it the truth? But she could see in his eyes that it was.
“We rock, don’t we?” Granny June asked.
We was a loose term, because Granny June herself hadn’t done much rocking, but Skye was too taken by the song to do more than nod.
“I mean, it still needs work, but it’s getting there,” Gentry added, popping Logan’s young man ego.
“No. It doesn’t need work. It’s incredible. I can’t believe what you’ve all accomplished in such a short amount of time. All of you. Mama Lita, you put the rest of us mere mortals to shame.”
She hung an unlit cigarette between her lips and winked. “That I know, dearie. That I know. But I think rehearsal’s over. Time for me to hit the road.” Turning to the rest of the band, she said, “Logan, can you give me a ride home?”
“Oh, sorry. I got a ride here from Nick.”
She packed up her keyboard. “Ah, well, then you can both take me home. Granny June, too. Let’s go, old bat. Maybe I could even stomach your company for an hour or two if you wanted to get a bite to eat in town.”
Skye smiled at the two women’s bickering. She got the sneaking suspicion that Mama Lita had orchestrated that maneuver to give her and Gentry some privacy. If so, she was grateful—and nervous. This was it. She was going to tell him and then everything was going to change between them forever.
On his way out of the barn, the drummer stopped in front of Skye. “You’re the one, huh?” He offered his hand. “I’m Nick.”
At the sound of his name, the pieces fell into place. “You’re Nick, the drummer. I me
an, from Gentry’s old band. The one he’s known since high school.”
“That’s me. And if you’re Skye, then you’re the chick from the songs, the reason he’s in Dulcet.”
Skye didn’t know what to make of that, and Nick’s expression didn’t offer any clues. “I guess so.”
Nick’s face broke out in a smile. “Then thank you for that, for getting him to change for the better, and not just because he’s written the best songs of his career about you.” He nodded back to Gentry, who stood away from the group, breaking down the mic stands while the rest of the band stowed and buttoned up their instruments. “He’s a good man. The best. You’ll see.”
Skye had already seen it and knew with her whole heart that Nick was right.
It wasn’t until they were alone in the barn that Gentry spoke. “You okay? I mean, for real, now that everyone’s gone. You don’t look like yourself today.”
“No. I’m not.” She was so much more.
His gaze swept over her, assessing. “What happened? Did you not like the song? Because I know it needs work, but I wrote it for you. I mean, for me. About me.”
She plunged her hand into her purse and closed her fingers around the ultrasound pictures. Okay, little peanut, here we go … “Gentry, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”
Chapter Twenty
Skye held out the ultrasound images. He took the papers from her and sat on a hay bale. He had yet to speak, but that meant he hadn’t yelled at her. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look confused. He looked humbled, like he was bowing his head in prayer instead of studying the images of the unborn baby he hadn’t known he was having until moments earlier.
Babbling to fill in the silence, she took a seat next to him. “It’s not much to see at six weeks, but you can just make out its head and its little peanut body. We won’t be able to tell the sex for another twelve weeks, at the twenty-week ultrasound.”
“The black spot there, is that the heart?”
“Yes. See? You’re picking up how to interpret the images. And it’s a real strong heartbeat too. The ultrasound tech said the baby’s developing right on schedule, perfectly.” She got her phone out and navigated to the sound recording. “We made a recording of the heartbeat for you.”
And she pressed play.
On a huff that sounded a lot like relief, he closed his eyes. When the recording ended, he peeled his eyes open again. They were glassy with tears. “That’s … I don’t know what to say.”
He took the phone from her and replayed it as he looked at the pictures. His hand slid across her lap and onto her belly. When the recording ended this time, he cleared his throat, taking his hand back. “I didn’t think that would hit me like that, but I’ve … I’m … I’m going to be a father. I mean, this is really happening.”
“I’m so sorry I kept you from hearing it at the doctor today live and in person because of my lie. Please don’t hate me.”
He knelt before her and kissed her hand, then cradled it in both of his like a precious jewel. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”
Maybe Skye was just stunned stupid by all that had happened, but there was something off about Gentry’s response. “Shouldn’t you be more surprised? I mean, this is a big deal.”
He smiled up at her, his eyes glassy with wetness. “I know it is. Believe me. And, not to turn this back around on you, but please don’t hate me for this. I already knew. I found out by accident in the hospital.”
“What?”
He kissed her hands again. “Right after the accident, I was going crazy trying to get to you in the hospital, not knowing if you were okay, but hospitals usually only let immediate family in, so I told them we were married. Then one of the nurses let it slip that the baby was all right.”
Skye gasped for air. “You knew this whole time?”
“Yeah.”
With a groan, she dropped her head into her hands. “You knew I was keeping it from you. I feel terrible about that.”
“You gotta knock it off with that Catholic guilt, baby. Because I didn’t think about it like you were keeping it from me. What I thought was, here’s a woman who got pregnant by a man she barely knows, who told her he isn’t interested in monogamy, and whose faith and family believe that getting pregnant out of wedlock is a sin. I can only imagine how scared you’ve been, and that’s not even taking into account that you already lost one baby.”
She dried her eyes. Enough tears. Enough apologies. They had a healthy growing baby, jobs they were each passionate about, and more than enough love to share with their child. “I did think that, but not anymore. This baby is a miracle. Our miracle.”
He rose and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Got that right.”
“Where do we go from here?”
He eased back to the hay bale again, contemplating that for a moment. “Well, it’s getting late. I think I ought to cook you dinner.”
Not what she was expecting. Not at all. “You cook?”
He feigned mock offense. “Do I look like I go hungry to you?”
She shook her head.
“Beyond deciding what to eat for dinner, I don’t think we have to make any other grand decisions right exactly now. I need you to know that I’m here. For the long haul. It’s why I’m buying a house in Dulcet. I don’t want to miss another doctor’s appointment, Skye. I don’t want to miss out on anything with our child. I know I was a rambling man. I know I’ve spent my career branding myself as a rebel and a drifter, a bad seed and a womanizer.
“Part of that was true, part of it wasn’t. I own up to hard living. There were a lot of years I was proud of the trouble I got into, proud of that reputation. But that’s not me anymore. Actually, it hasn’t been me for a long time, and I’m done pretending. Whatever happens next for my career will be on my terms, and it’s gonna happen from right here in Dulcet, where my family is.”
Skye’s heart cracked wide open.
“And I’m serious about that, Skye. Whatever you need, whatever you want. All the doctor bills come to me too. You got that? Let’s put all that useless money I make to some actual good for once. You promise me that?”
“I promise.”
He adjusted the brim of his ball cap. “I only have one more question for you.”
“Anything.”
“Did getting pregnant put an end to that silly love spell?”
The question surprised her so much that she laughed. She could have kissed him for that, for the levity and the understanding and the lack of jealousy about her being constantly bombarded by eligible bachelors.
“No,” she said. “I got hit on by my hot male nurse in the hospital. And you were there at Hog Heaven when the waiter gave me his number.”
He let out a belly laugh. “That’s right. Oh man, poor guy. He never stood a chance.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” she asked. “You’re not the least bit jealous?”
“Like I said at Hog Heaven, I think it’s kind of funny. And I also think your mama’s in the wrong business. She should be bottling that stuff. She’d be a millionaire.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
She almost thanked him again, but what she couldn’t stop thinking about was how badly she wanted to kiss him. So she did. She lassoed him into a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
He felt so good with his arms wrapped around her. He nuzzled his face into her hair and held on tight. She slipped her hands down over his back, reveling in every muscle.
She felt the moment that the energy humming between them shifted, charged with potency and purpose. “Gentry,” she breathed.
His hold on her tightened, rocking them both where they sat. “Yeah, I feel that too. I’ve got you, baby,” he said gruffly.
She turned her face in and pressed her lips to his jaw, breathing into him. Their eyes met, but only for an instant, before his lips found hers. The first touch of their mouths together rocked her whole body with shockwaves
.
He stroked her back. “You’re gonna stay with me tonight. Please. Don’t make me let you go again.”
* * *
Saturday morning, Gentry left a sleeping Skye in his bed and padded out of the room as quietly as he could to get ready for his RCIA class. The last few days with Skye had passed by in a haze. They’d laid in bed for hours, swapping stories and making love, breaking only to eat or for Gentry to serenade her with one of his new songs.
He walked to the safe in the hall closet. After another glance at the bedroom to make sure Skye was still asleep, he opened the safe and pulled out the ring inside, just to take a peak. He opened the lid of the little velvet box and stared at the ring he’d driven into Dallas to select for her earlier that week. Not that he planned to propose to Skye anytime soon, but it gave him peace, having a crystal-clear view of what he wanted for his future. Skye’s love, their family thriving together in Dulcet, surrounded by her big, loving family.
Down boy. She ain’t in love with you yet.
But he was ready for when, or if, that happened.
He’d never believed in anything as pie-in-the-sky as love at first sight, but damn it all if he hadn’t fallen for Skye that first night in the stable. He’d thought he needed to get grounded in order to cut the puppet stings that held him back so he could find himself again. Never in a million years would he have guessed that what he really needed to do was push both feet off the ground and take to the sky—so to speak. Because the problem hadn’t been not enough grounding, but that he’d been straddling two worlds, who he was supposed to be and who he wanted to be. Being with Skye, this freedom of the road, was the cure to all that ailed him.
Arms came around his waist. “Hey there. Where are you going? The bed’s getting cold.”
Gentry startled, then stuck the ring in his pocket. “Hey, yourself. I was trying not to wake you up. I have a class this morning, a surprise I’ve been holding off on telling you, but I’m not sure why anymore, because I think you’d be proud of me.”
“A class? If it’s in Dulcet, the only class outside of the resort is Mrs. Pratch’s Zumba class at the senior center. Now that would be a sight to behold. Your hip gyrations would make all the old ladies swoon.”
One Wild Night Page 26