Champagne and Cowboys

by Donna Michaels

  Her heart pounded and her hands turned clammy. “Don’t, Billy. This isn’t the time.”

  “You have a hard time listening, don’t you, Billy?” All understanding faded from Storm’s tone. He wasn’t as calm now.

  Stunned at how fast things were getting out of hand, and not wanting Billy to get hurt, she did what she thought was best. “Please, leave. Call me tomorrow. We’ll talk.”

  A long three seconds floated by until Billy pushed a hand through his hair, messing it into tangles, then nodded. He appeared defeated. “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  She watched Billy walk out of the diner and disappear on the snow covered road.

  “I think he’s a bit angry,” Storm said.

  “That’s probably an understatement. I’d say he’s down right pissed.”

  “Does he drink like that often?”

  She sighed and turned to Storm. “It gets worse every year,” she admitted.

  “Sorry to hear.” Storm rolled his hand down his jaw.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Intervening. I think he drank his brain cells under the table today. He certainly wasn’t thinking.” She cast a quick glance through the window just to be sure he was gone. “Pops usually deals with him and it never progresses to this.”

  “How about I make you a cup of coffee. And I hear the brownie pie here makes everything better.” His sweet smile seemed to turn her blood into syrup.

  Surprising even herself, she burst out into laughter. “Whomever gave you that bit of information is a genius.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Have a seat, ma’am, and let me take care of you.” He rolled his hand through the air, motioning for her to sit in the booth where Billy had been sitting. She didn’t argue, didn’t much feel like it. Once he said he’d take care of her, she couldn’t resist. She sat and stared out of the window.

  Storm came back, set the plate and cup in front of her. “Thank you,” she offered him a smile.

  “I didn’t do anything except put it on the plate and pour the coffee. A pretty woman I know did all of the hard work.” His gaze twinkled and snatched up every bit of her logical thinking.

  “You’re too kind.”

  “I can listen if you’d like to talk.”

  She poured a good amount of sugar and creamer into the coffee. “What’s there to say?”

  He shrugged. “What does he want to talk about? Getting you back? That subject tends to make men act foolishly.”

  After a heartbeat, she sighed. “He says he wants me back, but when we were together things just didn’t work like they should have.”

  “Liquor and relationships don’t mix,” Storm said.

  “Cheating put a chink in the chain too.” She rolled the tip of her finger along the rim of the cup, looking into the swirling liquid that reminded her of the emotions spinning inside of her.

  “He’s one of those, huh?”

  “One of those what?” Asshole? Jerk?

  “A stupid fool.” He leaned back into the booth, stretching his legs, his knee brushing hers. A jolt of electricity fired up her leg, but he seemed unaffected. “I never understood why a man cheated when he had the world at home. Were you and Billy married?”

  She shook her head so fast that her hair fell from her bun. She tucked a strand behind her ear. “Would that make a difference if he cheated?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Heaven’s no, we were never hitched. He didn’t ask and I wouldn’t have said yes.” Blowing a breath through her lips, she decided she had nothing to hide from. “Billy and I were a couple in high school and through college. I got pregnant and things really went downhill after Sunny was born.” The mention of her daughter’s name erupted all sorts of emotions within Charlie. Some joyful and happy, others sad and overwhelming. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about her daughter in a long time.

  “Harvey mentioned her. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Six

  Usually, Storm would keep his nose where it belonged—on the center of his face. Yet there was nothing normal about how he was feeling or the unique woman sitting across from him. Hell, he’d observed scene after scene of arguing couples and eventually things worked themselves out. But as he’d stood back watching Charlie and her ex, something had unleashed within Storm that he couldn’t ignore—didn’t want to either—especially when the belligerent man had grabbed Charlie’s elbow. Storm was raised to believe that a man never, ever, laid a hand on a woman in anger. No matter what. Seeing Charlie manhandled had driven through Storm. Then he’d reacted without thinking.

  Luckily, things hadn’t turned physical and Billy had left, or rather staggered out of the diner. Storm hadn’t been worried about things escalating. He could have taken the drunk, one handed and blindfolded, but Charlie didn’t need to witness that unsavory action. That’s why he’d held back on intervening, not wanting to make things worse for her in the long run.

  She sat staring into her cup as if all the answers were written in the coffee.

  “I’m sorry you were dragged into all of this,” she said sheepishly.

  He shrugged. “Glad I could help.” Her eyes were an unusual green color—bottle green. They seemed to change with her mood, darker or lighter. The left was marred by a brown freckle in the iris. Her soft voice made him think of a soothing song, one he’d like to write. She tucked tendrils of hair behind her ear, and he noticed how her fingers trembled. Was she nervous over Billy? Or something more? “I hope I didn’t make things worse.”

  Her smile was genuine and made his gut tighten and shift. Her face washed with a lovely pink. Wonder what color her cheeks turned when she was made love to? Orchid pink? No, he’d guess cherry blossom.

  “No, you didn’t. It’s done, at least for today. He probably won’t call tomorrow. He might even forget what took place here today. I think that makes the entire situation more unbearable. He doesn’t realize the havoc he leaves in his wake. It’s hard to talk about.”

  “If you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to.”

  She sighed and he thought he heard relief in it. She took her time, moistening her lips. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was scared to death of being a mom. I fretted about everything, but thankfully my dad reassured me that all new parents feel the same worry. He told me over and over that everything would be all right. Once my little girl was placed into my arms, I knew he was right. I fell in love with her, everything about her. Her dark, wavy hair. Her coal eyes. The way she whimpered when I could tell she wanted to belt out a strong cry. We were close. She was my world. I swore her smile could brighten any gloomy day.” She laughed, but it fizzled as sadness crawled across her features making the air leave his lungs. “She was five. She’d just started kindergarten and she loved being near friends, learning, exploring. That particular evening, she was sitting at the table, eating, and the next thing she was vomiting and feverish. I gave her a fever reducer and she fell asleep. A few hours later she woke up, unable to breathe, complaining of a horrible headache. I wrapped her in a warm blanket and drove her to the hospital. Took us forever in the snow. Once we got there, they whisked her away…” Tears slid down her cheeks and she swiped them away. “That was the last time I ever saw her alive.” Her gaze drifted to the window.

  “What happened?”

  “Bacterial meningitis. I had no clue. I thought it was the flu. It was so fast.” Her soft voice was ravaged with pain. “I put my baby to bed. If only I’d known…” Her voice quivered.

  He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to work. “The flu is much more common than bacterial meningitis.”

  She tilted her chin in a bravery that her eyes didn’t agree with. “I’ve asked myself a thousand times…what if I’d taken her to the hospital when I first saw the symptoms? What if I hadn’t assumed she wasn’t in any danger? Would she be alive today? It’s my fault. I was here to protect her.” Her chest rose and fell heavily.

  Before he thoug
ht over his action, he reached across the table and laid his hand on hers. Her fingers were cold and the shaking remained. He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but would she push him away? Instead, he stayed seated, his heart filling with compassion. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  She shrugged, “I’ve heard that from everyone—doctors, Pops, friends—but I was her mother. She was my responsibility. I-I had no clue.” She rubbed her eyes. “It’s been years, but it seems like centuries since I held her.”

  “I’m sorry, but—”

  Her chin came up, a bead of moisture remained on her eyelashes. “You’re not going to tell me I should move on?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “No one has the right to tell you to do something you’re not ready for. I was going to say that Billy doesn’t seem like he’s making this any easier.”

  “This time of the year is hard for me. I lost her on New Year’s Day.”

  His throat narrowed. What could he say? He had no idea of the pain she’d suffered. He studied her features silently, admiring how strong she would have to be to survive the pain of losing a loved one. A child. A strand of hair coiled at her ear and he noticed the diamond stud in her earlobe. She rolled the earring back in restless energy. He skimmed his gaze over her short, pale nails, along slender, long fingers to her wrist and further over her arm—arms that he wanted wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Yogi was her dog,” she said in a whisper soft voice and he brought his gaze back to her face. “He would cuddle up with her at night, watching over her as if he knew of the danger coming. After she was gone, he would still lay at the bottom of her bed, then eventually he gave up.” The tears started again.

  Damn, he was grateful he hadn’t hit the dog last night. He couldn’t begin to imagine how hard Charlie would have taken Yogi’s death. “You were young when you had Sunny.”

  She nodded. “I was finishing up my four-year degree and had planned to go on to law school. I’d told myself I would have Sunny then resume my plans, but I became busy being a mother.” Her mouth twisted as if she held back emotion. “I had to pay the bills and wasn’t quite ready to work here full-time, so, I took a quick course in veterinary assistance and well, you know the rest.”

  “Why haven’t you gone back? To law school? It’s never too late to follow your dreams.”

  She lifted a shoulder and let it slump. “The planets just haven’t been aligned. And the dream just faded. Believe it or not, I’m okay here in Palms. You know, I couldn’t do anything for a long time—could barely breathe—the first year after she passed. I wasn’t quite honest when I told you I quit at the vet’s office because of Pops. I actually didn’t get out of bed for a while, didn’t eat much, some days nothing at all, and I wanted to die.” She brought the cup to her mouth and sipped.

  “Did you try, you know…?”

  She gave her head a shake. “No, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t cross my mind. Seeing how far gone I was, Pops forced me into a healing group at a church almost an hour away. At first, I sat in that cold chair, sulking, hating the world—hating their stories. Until one of the members came down hard on me, lashing out at me for my rudeness. I’d never been called rude in my life, but wow, I realized I had owned the corner lot in bitch-land. So, it cracked my armor and I went back. The group didn’t take away the pain, but it eased the torment just enough that I could breathe a little better. I had five glorious years with my angel and the doctor said she died peacefully. There were parents who told stories of their children being killed by bullets, abuse, drugs…” She sniffed loudly.

  “Damn, I suggested the pie.” He rubbed his forehead. Not all the pie in the world could ease the pain that must reside in her heart. “As if that would help.”

  “It’s okay.” She lifted her fork and sliced into the pie, but didn’t bring the bite to her mouth. “This was her favorite pie.”

  “It’s my favorite too.”

  “How about you, Storm” There was a certain way she said his name that made his adrenaline rise.

  He smiled. “What about me?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Not everyone can say their dreams have made them rich. You’re pretty impressive.”

  “After meeting you, I can say without a doubt that I’m not impressive.”

  A smile danced at the corner of her mouth. “How’s that?”

  “Over the years I’ve gotten richer. I’ve met a lot of people. Traveled all over the world. I’ve had everything I’ve ever wanted, but nothing I’ve needed.”

  “What do you need?” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

  That little action ripped through him. “I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I’d give anything to have someone I could love, like you loved—still love—your daughter.”

  “Is there an unwritten rule that states you can’t have a musical career and a family too?”

  “No.” he blinked. “Maybe.”

  “I’m not one to judge. After all, I became pregnant while in college and dropped out, and I’m pretty miserable these days, but you seem lonely to me. I guess it’s true, money can’t buy happiness.”

  Wow, she backed him against the wall. No way could he come up with a tasty comeback. “I’ll drink to that.” He took a sip of his water.

  “All of the magazines imply you’re happy. And all of the lady friends. It seems you have lots of company.” She wagged her brows.

  “Can’t believe everything you read.”

  “Oh, the media is lying. Imagine that.” She brought her hands together, shaping a steeple with her fingers.

  “I’m surprised you read that stuff.” He wrinkled his nose.

  “I don’t, at least until you came along. Google is such a bittersweet thing.”

  “I’m not a mystery. What you see is what you get,” he said.

  “No, I think there’s a lot more about you that doesn’t meet the eye.”

  “I’d say I can be myself here more than anywhere.”

  “Why is that exactly?”

  “Maybe the company. It certainly is a change for the better.”

  She moistened her lips. “I have to ask a question. Been wanting to since we met last night.”

  He laid his palm on the table, splaying his fingers wide. “Okay. I’m an open book.”

  “Why on earth were you traveling on Christmas? You seemed vague about your answer before.”

  “A week ago my uncle died. He was like a father to me and my biggest supporter. I went to his funeral against the better judgment of my manager, Max, who wasn’t happy that I didn’t have my work priorities in order. My flight got canceled because of the weather and I found myself stuck. And the rest is history.”

  “And now your manager is going to skin you alive because you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”

  He scratched his temple. “He’ll get over it.” She reached up and grabbed the elastic that held her hair in a bun and tugged. Waves bounced down along her shoulders. His fingers ached to run his fingers through the cascade, but logic steadied him. He jerked his hand and realized he still held hers. It had been the most relaxed place to have it. He pulled away, and she looked down at his hand. “Sorry,” he said.

  “No problem.” She smiled. “Maybe somehow you were meant to be here, that fate brought you here to our small town for the holidays. No one should have to be alone on Christmas or New Year’s Eve.”

  He considered her words. “I’ve worked every holiday since I can remember. In fact, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to take time away.”

  “That’s unreal. Isn’t that why we work? To make money so that we can take time off?”

  He pulled off his hat and fiddled with the rim before he placed it next to him on the seat. “I’ve found that the more money in the bank, the less time I have for myself.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an easy conversation with someone.

  “And not favorable for a relationship, or it seems.”

  “Against popular belief, the
re’s not many women who consider me relationship material.”

  She blinked and her lashes touched the tops of her freckled cheeks. “You? The sexy cowboy with cupid’s singing voice?”

  He laughed. “Sexy huh?”

  Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. If she did that much more he was going to have a big issue in his jeans. “That’s what I read in the magazines.”

  “Right, well, I find myself going from place to place, show to show. That kind of travel is difficult on one person, let alone a couple. I’m gone all of the time and, although couples need time away, months at a time sort of branches across the norm.”

  “You do realize that I haven’t heard one good thing about your musical career from you.”

  “I guess I’m focusing on the negative instead of the positive. Truthfully, I envy your life here in a small town. To have the freedom of choice. To go where you want. The love your dad has for you is unmistakable.”

  “I’m lucky to have Pops. He’s been there through everything. I’m scared to death if something happens to him, I won’t have anyone.”

  “I felt the same when my uncle passed.” She caught him off guard when she reached across the table and lightly touched his arm as if to comfort him. Although it was quick, the tingles lingered. “It’s okay. He lived a long prosperous life. Met and married the love of his life and although they never had any kids together, they always had people coming and going off the farm.”

  “Well, if you love what you do, that’s what matters. Do you love what you do?”

  “I love singing. For a long time, my music, my career, was all that defined me. Now, well, what can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m losing myself.”

  “Then maybe the love isn’t there like it once was.”

  “It’s a competition. Younger stars with bigger voices.”

  She laughed. “You’re old. What? Thirty three?”

  “Thirty-five. And after this many years, I’m feeling old.”

  “Maybe you should consider a change.”

  He sniffed. “That’s a long shot.”

  “I don’t know anything about your life, your career, or your world, but when it all comes down to it, whatever your lifestyle, if you’re feeling lost then it’s time to find your way again.” She slipped from the seat. “Let me finish up a few things here and then we’ll close up.”