Inside the orchestration of their performance, she was safe.
Glo came up behind her. “So, do you think he’s out there?”
She glanced at her. “Who?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome,” she said. “The guy who walked you home last night. Dixie saw him with you.”
Kelsey’s eyes widened “When?”
“At the carnival.” Dixie winked. “I saw you on the Ferris wheel together. Who was he?”
The song piping through the arena was finishing its last notes.
“Just a cowboy. A rancher. A safe guy, but nobody.”
Glo shook her head. “Right.”
“What—”
But Dixie pushed her onstage, and they walked out in darkness as a hush fell over the crowd.
She knew exactly the number of steps, found the shiny mic stand in the middle, gripped her hand around it. Cool. Solid. Stay safe.
Knox’s voice rose inside her and she closed her eyes. Yes, out there the world came at her fast and hard, without rules, random and terrifying.
Not here.
She heard the tapping—Elijah at the drum, counting in their song. She took a breath, then eased into her voice, singing a cappella with Dixie and Glo...
* * *
Can you make me touch the sky
Can you give me a reason why
Don’t leave me, don’t make me cry…
Cowboy don’t lie—Take me away and make me fly.
* * *
The harmonies died, and she grinned in the silence, a split second before the audience filled it with a thrumming cheer.
Then Elijah rolled in the beat, Glo added her banjo, and behind them, the bassist and keyboardist, two up-and-coming musicians Carter had hired in Nashville for this gig, joined in.
The lights came up, and for a second, Kelsey blinked against the brightness. But she grabbed the mic, raised her arms and took the lead.
* * *
It feels like yesterday when you gave me the moon
When you told me that you’d never let me go.
Ain’t no way to understand why I let you
Tell me how you love me so…
* * *
Dixie stepped up with her fiddle, took the mic, and Kelsey hummed, her eyes closed, hearing the half-truth from last night.
I’m just here with a couple girlfriends for the weekend. Maybe she should have told him more. But there had been a magic in the evening, an anonymity, and she’d just wanted to be a girl with a cowboy.
She opened her eyes and grinned at the audience.
* * *
So sweet bull-doggin’ man, take me home tonight
Sing me a song, pull the stars from the sky
Make me believe your words, that everything will be all right.
Cowboy don’t lie—Take me away and make me fly.
* * *
The crowd erupted, and she glanced at Glo, then Dixie, then to the crowd and sent them a kiss. The applause filled her up, thick and rich in the hollow spaces.
She greeted the audience, introduced Glo and Dixie—the band would come later—and they launched into one of their hits, a song about trouble, Dear Johns, and broken hearts, and the crowd sang along.
She grabbed a tambourine and her mic and went to the front of the stage, grinned down at a couple of youngsters who just might be too young for their songs, but who waved to her. She winked at them and continued her walk across stage as behind her, Dixie did some fiddle magic.
She was just turning back to the center stage when she spotted him. Just inside the rim of visible lights, maybe three rows back and standing behind a little girl who sat on her father’s shoulders, clapping. Tall, cowboy hat, dark hair with a touch of red, those magnetic eyes pinned to her.
Knox.
He was here, and he stared at her as if stymied, or enthralled—yeah, she’d go with that. Surprised, for sure, and more than a little undone.
For a second, she nearly stopped singing, nearly hiccupped the lyrics, nearly tripped in front of the entire world.
But this was her world, her stage.
Her safe place.
So she grinned at him, and across the crowd, winked.
His mouth opened, and she didn’t stay for more, turning back to center stage.
She finished the song, grinning at the Belles, then back out into the darkness as the audience erupted.
Stay safe.
At least he knew she was keeping her promise.
But she couldn’t dislodge the idea of him standing out there in the crowd as she led them through the set. As she told the funny story about how the girls met—in high school, crushing over the same stupid boy, who would end up dissing them all. As she taught the crowd how to sing along to “Let Him Go, Go Go, Bye, Bye” and finally when she got quiet, the spotlight on her alone for her solo song, the one called “One True Heart,” a ballad about young love, waiting for a happy ending, a soldier gone to war.
One of Glo’s best, but she couldn’t sing it without weeping, so Kelsey recorded it, and it had gone viral.
* * *
She met him on a night like any other
Dressed in white, the cape of a soldier
He said you’re pretty, but I can’t stay
She said I know, but I could love you anyway…
* * *
Kelsey knew how to work the song, her alto turning it husky and raw.
* * *
But you don’t know if you don’t start
So wait…for one true heart…one true heart…
* * *
She let the last notes linger, just her voice and the quiet auditorium, the sound haunting, the what-ifs lingering in the air.
They ended with their current finale— “Live It Up,” an upbeat song about dancing, letting loose, and living rowdy.
Not that she—or any of them—did any of that, but it cemented the feeling she wanted to leave with the NBR-X audience.
They came back for an encore, their first hit with the banjo screaming, the fiddle burning, and a crazy tumble of lyrics that had her sweating under the lights.
She fell into the arms of Glo and Dixie backstage, breathing hard, part triumph, part exhaustion. Carter ran up and embraced them all.
“Hot, hot, hot! Listen to that crowd!” Indeed, they should probably have another encore, but Kelsey was ready to order room service and drop into a hot bath. Or rather, squeeze into the tiny bus shower and eat some cold pizza from today’s takeout.
But by the look on Carter’s face, they’d landed the gig. At least until, “One of the board members wants to meet you three. I’ll go get him.”
Oh. But she could put on her stage face for the brass if it meant they had regular gigs for the next six months.
Carter led them backstage to a meet and greet green room, then left to get the guest. She fished out a soda from the tub of ice. Pushed it to her forehead. She was drenched in a layer of heat, soggy right through to her bones.
The rest of the band had crowded into the room, and she high-fived Elijah, noticing how his gaze landed on Dixie. Poor guy—Kelsey had a feeling he’d taken the gig to follow his heart…the one not attached to music. But the way Dixie glanced at him, too, maybe he had a chance.
He was certainly cute, with his long hair, pale green eyes, tight, martial arts frame. He reminded her of some ancient dark Viking warrior.
“Hey, Kelsey,” Carter said. She turned and spotted him heading her direction. In front of him bounced a cute dark-haired little girl—maybe the one from the audience—grinning like she’d just seen a Disney princess.
Kelsey crouched to her height and held out her hand. “Oh my, did you know someone stole your front teeth?” She feigned shock.
The girl giggled, nodded. “The toof fairy!”
“Of course. Someone alert the sheriff.” Kelsey winked at her.
“This is Tori Noble,” Carter said. He gestured to a man and a woman standing beside him. “And these are her parents,
Rafe and Katherine Noble. Rafe is on the board of NBR-X.”
Kelsey stood up, wiped her sweaty hand on her jeans, and held it out for Rafe. Handsome, dark brown hair, muscled and lean, he bore the look of a man who knew his way around a rodeo. And his wife, Katherine, had the long dark hair and smile of a grown-up cowgirl, from her pink shirt to her skinny jeans and designer boots.
“Glad to meet you,” Kelsey said, not sure what else she should add. Begging briefly shot through her mind, but she’d just given them her best. She wasn’t sure what else she could offer.
Either they liked the Belles, or they didn’t. She looked at Carter, searching for rescue.
And for the first time since she got offstage, a tremor ran through her. What if—
“You were amazing.”
The voice slid under her skin, landed in her bones, and her breath hiccupped as she turned to look for the source.
Knox had walked up, stood behind Katherine, grinning at Kelsey.
And just like that, Cowboy Marshall had the power to stop her world from spinning out from beneath her.
“Hi,” she said softly, nothing of the stage in it, knocked away by the spell of his eyes.
Those dangerous blue-green eyes that held her, the language in them something rich, although a little confused.
“I…almost didn’t recognize you.”
Katherine had stepped aside, and Knox came up to Kelsey, his gaze taking in the feathers, the brown V-necked NBR-X T-shirt, cutoff jeans, and black tights that molded her legs, down to turquoise cowboy boots.
Okay, yeah, she looked a little different.
Whereas he looked exactly the same. Except for the suit coat over his black T-shirt.
Wait—was he on the board, too?
She drew in a breath, because…
The last thing NBR-X wanted was a crazy person, a troublemaker, someone who might crack at any moment, on their roster.
Or, probably, a liar. “I didn’t want to…I…” She bit her lip, not sure what to say about her glaring omission last night.
He shook his head, grinned, saving her again. “It’s okay. I get it. Sometimes a person just needs to eat cheese curds in anonymity.”
Her mouth opened, closed. She nodded.
Shoot. Because this man had definite swooniness. “What are you doing…I mean, did you stay for the concert? Because you said you were leaving—”
“You two know each other?” Rafe Noble glanced at Knox.
“We met last night. She was picking up some wings at the beer tent,” Knox said, not giving her up.
“I told little Miss Noble here that you’d sign a poster for her,” Carter said, indicating Tori. She looked up at Kelsey, her eyes shining.
“Of course I will. You want to see my dressing room?”
Tori nodded, and Kelsey held out her hand, glancing for the okay from Katherine. “We’ll be right back.”
She waved her hand to Glo and Dixie, leaving them to mingle as she and Tori pushed through the crowded room. When they emerged to the hall, she noticed Knox had joined them. She met his eyes. “Really?”
“I want a signed poster too.” He grinned then, and a strange warmth poured through her, touching her belly.
They wove their way to the back rooms, and she pushed open her door, a tiny room that held her costumes, makeup, and yes, that leftover pizza. She flicked on the lights.
Tori’s eyes widened as her gaze fell on the rack of costumes dragged in from the bus. “You wear all these?”
“I couldn’t decide what to wear.” She let go of Tori’s hand and looked at Knox, pitching her voice low. “I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything.”
His gaze turned warm and sweet. “It’s not like we were sharing our deepest secrets. It’s okay. And I meant it. You took my breath away up there.”
She just didn’t know what to do with this man.
And because she’d kept the truth from him before, she came clean. “The stage seems to be one place that’s mine. It’s where life makes sense. I’m safe, and yes, things go wrong, but it doesn’t feel out of control.”
He stared at her, those eyes reaching down with something like compassion. “Kelsey, what—”
The rumble started under her feet, a split second of warning. Knox’s eyes widened, and he reached for her—
Then, the arena exploded in a blast of fire, smoke, and debris.
3
Knox felt his face to confirm that his eyes were open. Because in the pitch darkness, he couldn’t even make out his hand before his face. He hadn’t passed out—he remembered every second, almost in slow motion.
The floor had rippled, and he’d reached out to grab Kelsey, a move born of instinct as his arm curled around her.
In the same moment he looked at Tori, out of his reach, standing next to the makeup counter.
Then the boom resounded through the building, into his body, and the world emptied beneath him, simply crumbled with a great heave. He yanked Kelsey to himself even as screams lifted to mix with the thunder of the explosion.
He fell forever, clawing the air, the lights blinking out, debris raining down over him. Only his arm around Kelsey anchored him as chaos erupted. He landed hard, unable to brace himself, the air whooshing out of him.
Pain exploded through his leg, his arm, and Kelsey fell away in the ricochet of the impact.
He reached for her, but ended up pulling his legs tight to himself, his arms over his head as the debris pinged around him—metal, cement, furniture.
Smoke saturated the air, and he kept his face down, into a crack while the world careened to a stop.
Then everything was engulfed by an eerie, deep silence, as if time took a moment to simply catch its breath.
Him too. He took a gulp of dusty air, during which he heard his heart thunder in his ears.
What just happened?
Abruptly, a cacophony of sharp whinnies and groaning of stock animals erupted around him—clearly the destruction had torn into the stock pens below.
Yes, his eyes were still open. And he seemed largely unhurt, despite the bone-jarring crash. Dust embedded the hairs of his arms, clogged his nose, layered his face. He touched his chest, where his heart hammered, and tried to move.
Nothing felt broken.
He expected sparks, maybe flames with the odor of smoke, but nothing flickered against the all black, pitch darkness. It instantly swept into his pores, his bones.
Suffocating.
Only the whimpers nearby pulled him free. He reached out his hand, searching.
His grip closed around flesh, an arm. “Kelsey?”
No movement, but he did feel a pulse. He eased himself through the rubble, over cement and metal and wire, and scooted next to her. They seemed to be lying on the floor of the dressing room, but it had collapsed at an angle, so he had to climb toward her head.
He brailled his way up her arm, found her shoulder, her hair, brought his face to hers. “Kelsey, are you okay?”
A breath, harsh and fast, but she still didn’t answer.
Kelsey wasn’t the one whimpering. At least not audibly.
“Tori?”
A hiccup of breath in answer, then a moan that turned into sobbing.
“Hang on. I’m coming, Tori.” He hated the blackness. He put his hand toward the sound, but it hit something solid and metal.
Think, Knox. You’re out on the range, in a blizzard, alone, with a truck that won’t start. What do you do?
His father, showing up now to lecture him.
Except—yes. His phone still sat in his back pocket, and he wrestled it out in the darkness, pressed it on, and found his flashlight.
The app lit up their cave like the dawn of heaven illuminating the chaos of earth.
Thank You, God. He wasn’t blind, even with his eyes open.
From what he could make out, the entire room had collapsed onto the floor below, one side falling farther than the other. The walls, too, caved in, detaching from their metal
supports, and around them lay the debris of the room—broken mirror glass, light fixtures, the dismantled counter, and dissecting it all, one of the supporting ceiling beams that angled into the pit from its moorings above.
He aimed his phone to reveal where the joint met the wall and saw that the beam was cracked, the seam fractured. It could fall, crushing them at any moment.
“Help— please—”
Tori, and he wanted to weep with the pain in her voice. “Hang on, honey. I’m coming.” He flashed the light on Kelsey.
She covered her face with her hands, her body trembling, and he made out a brutal scrape on her chin. She’d fallen away from him, her legs curled into her body. He pushed the hair back from her face, then checked her head for injury.
Nothing. “Kelsey?” He put his hand on her back, leaning over her in the small pocket of debris. “Kelsey?”
She wouldn’t remove her hands, so he reached down and pulled one away.
Her eyes were closed.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you hurt?”
No answer, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Kelsey!”
She stuttered in a breath, then, in a moment, opened her eyes.
But they didn’t land on him, didn’t recognize him.
As if—of course she was having a panic attack, or something close to it. “Kelsey, I have to get Tori.”
Nothing.
“Help—”
He winced, but he had no choice but to turn the light toward the voice.
Tori lay under the remains of the makeup counter, trapped behind the ceiling joist. He climbed over Kelsey and shimmied under the joist, working his way down the space under the counter. It had fallen like a wedge over the top of Tori, and at first he let out a shudder of relief that she hadn’t been seriously hurt.
Knox Page 4