Cowboy's Heart

by Rhonda Laurel

  * * *

  With Isabelle off doing whatever it was women did at the craft store, Tate returned to his cabin with Rowdy in tow and tidied up the house. He figured it would be a good time to return a few business calls. He got in touch with his manager, Cyril, who said the band was in Las Vegas and ready to rehearse as soon he got into town. Cyril was worried about the filming of the last show for a documentary special, which was going to air on a cable network in the fall. He was a perfectionist, but he was great at the little details that Tate sometimes overlooked. This would be his first recorded special, and Tate had laid down a few conditions, one of which was that Isabelle was not to be filmed.

  Sure, news of his engagement was a big deal these days, but he wanted his relationship with Isabelle to remain private and out of the tabloids, especially since the latest scandal. Singer Lucinda McCann’s declaration that she’d dedicated her latest song to him had brought on a flurry of gossip. Of course, it was true—she’d dedicated the song to him after their brief affair before his engagement to Isabelle. But Lucinda’s “coincidental” reveal of Tate as the source of her inspiration just after news of his engagement to Izzy didn’t help anything, except maybe Lucinda’s career. Particularly since Lucinda insisted she’d been in love with him and he’d dumped her. Perfect fodder for a country song.

  Izzy had taken it in stride, even when it seemed like every cousin she had called her with a thousand questions. Being in the limelight wasn’t easy. There was a general sense of disappointment when a celebrity found love, especially one with the reputation for being a playboy, and people were just reacting to it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away squeaky clean from his rogue past, but now he had to defend the right to have a private relationship with the woman he loved.

  The next call he made was to Kate Cavanaugh, the president of his record label, Atlantis Blue. Cowboy’s Heart had gone platinum, thanks to the hit single “Isabelle’s Smile.”

  “Tate, how are you?” Kate answered. “Did you and Isabelle set a wedding date yet?”

  “As soon as the tour is finished, we’ll set a date and send you and Chris an invite.”

  “Great. It would be nice to get out of Cali for a while. Congrats on the success of the tour. Have any ideas for the next CD?”

  “I know the single with Lana McNeal got a great response, but what I’ve been working on lately takes me back to…well my roots. I was thinking of incorporating some of it into the new CD.” He was sure he could finish some of Lila’s songs and make them work. In fact, he was determined to.

  “I like it. I’d hoped your collaboration with Lana wasn’t a one-off, but as I told you before, I’m not here to dictate what you record. You have great instincts, and I think you know your fans. There was a lot more depth to your latest CD. I say keep digging.”

  “Thanks, Kate. We’ll talk again after the tour.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Kate said. “Anything for the man who brought the Dirty Rascals to my attention. My country division is blossoming nicely. By the way, my guy that scouts classical talent begged me to ask if Isabelle would be interested in recording a CD of her own. She has great talent. Maybe the two of you could do a track together? If she’s interested, have her give me a call.”

  “That would be awesome for her. I’ll let her know.”

  A few minutes later he ended the call. Rowdy stood up on his hind legs and whimpered, a not-so-subtle hint that he wanted a treat, so it seemed like a good time to get something to eat for himself. His appetite had tripled due to the stress of the tour, and it ramped up again as the last tour date in Las Vegas neared. He wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d get when he announced to the band that he would be taking some time off to plan a wedding.

  Rowdy gulped down the treats in ferocious gulps and wandered off. Tate laughed when he opened the fridge and pushed the milk aside to find one of his brother Seth’s boys’ toy trucks. The boys spent just as much time at the cabin when they were on the ranch as they did at their own place. His nephews gravitated to Izzy, and she loved teaching them about music in between all the spoiling. Her Classical Music Rocks kids adored her too.

  He piled roast beef and turkey onto a hoagie roll while he pondered their wedding. He wanted to give Isabelle the perfect day to remember. Armed with the gigantic sandwich and a beer, he made his way back to the living room.

  As he passed the dining room table filled with papers, the stacks of envelopes tied with pink ribbons caught his eye. The flowery handwriting looked familiar. He set his sandwich and beer down on the table and flipped through the stacks of letters. One of the dates on the postmarks went back as far as twelve years. There was one letter addressed to Teri-Lyn with no postmark on it. It was in Lila’s handwriting. He reluctantly opened it, and pulled out the pale yellow sheet of flowery stationery. The date in the top right corner of the letter was a few days before she’d been hit by the car.

  Dearest Teri-Lyn,

  How’s our boy?

  He closed the letter. A lump rose in his throat, and he found it hard to breathe. These were Lila’s last written words, and he wasn’t ready to read them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The entire fiftieth floor of the Magnus Hotel and Casino had been reserved for the Blake family, and Regency security was stationed everywhere. As soon as Tate and Isabelle reached the hotel room, she was in heaven. The lavish suite boasted three bedrooms, a full kitchen, a grand piano in the living room, and a balcony. There was a great view of the strip and the mountainous background in the distance.

  “This is amazing. I wish we could stay locked away all week.”

  “Like Tyler and Michelle? They got here two days ago.” Tate laughed.

  The Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob of the room a couple doors down coupled with the stack of dishes waiting to be carted off by the room service confirmed that Tyler and Michelle had indeed arrived early.

  “I’m so glad they’re happy.”

  “And they have the right idea.” Tate grabbed Isabelle’s waist and was backing her toward the bedroom when his phone rang. It was Cyril.

  “Cy, I just got in… Yeah, I know we have a press conference this afternoon, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Tate hung up and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Duty calls. I’ll put our things away, maybe do a little shopping, then I’ll meet you downstairs for dinner with the band.” Isabelle kissed his pouting lips.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be all right wandering around by yourself? Regency reserved private vehicles for the family. So if you want to—”

  “Stop worrying about me. I want you to focus on your concert and enjoy getting to know my folks. They’re going to love you.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Isabelle ran a hand over his cheek. “Don’t worry.”

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  Isabelle couldn’t believe her eyes when Tate went out into the hall and retuned a few minutes later with a man who looked like three football players crammed into one huge body. He had to be three hundred pounds easy, at least six five, and he looked like he could bench press the giant statue in front of the hotel.

  “Baby, this is Luther. He’s going to be escorting you around town this week.” Tate flashed his most boyish smile, but Isabelle wasn’t fooled for a minute.

  “Absolutely not!”

  Tate winced. “This is a big town, and it would be better to have someone with you when you go out.”

  “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” She threw her room key on the table, sat on the edge of the couch, and removed her sandals.

  “I know you don’t like it, but it’s necessary. I can concentrate on the performance if I know Luther is looking after you.”

  “Couldn’t you find someone a little more…less conspicuous? He sticks out like a lion at a rabbit farm. No offense to you, Luther.”

  “None taken.”

  “Please? If you do this I’ll wear
that”—Tate came closer and lowered his voice—“edible thong you bought me for Valentine’s Day.”

  “OK. And I want a full photo shoot to commemorate the moment.” She rubbed her hands together in wicked delight. She gave the bodyguard a once over. “But just for the day.”

  “Great.” Tate kissed her and bolted before she could change her mind.

  Isabelle turned around to get a better look at her new protector. She didn’t think there was much that could get past the man. She noticed he had a white, spiral cord leading up to his ear like the guards in the hallway.

  “So how does this all work?”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “I keep close to make sure no one accosts you. Just pretend I’m one of your girlfriends and we’re hanging out.”

  “Luther, my girlfriends don’t look like they can compact a car with their bare hands.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough. How about this? Think of me as a very visible deterrent to anyone who may want to get too friendly. Do you want to go anywhere special?”

  “Suddenly I have the urge to stay in the room.” She bit the inside of her cheek.

  “I’ll put in a call to room service if you’re hungry. What would you like?”

  “I’ll have some cheddar broccoli soup and a turkey sandwich if they have it.” She placed her hand on her stomach. She’d been feeling nauseated the whole trip but didn’t want to alert Tate. It must have been the baby who wanted to eat.

  She went to the bar to see if there was any ginger ale in the fridge while Luther took her bags into the bedroom. All she had to do was stave off the symptoms for a week, and then she could tell him the good news.

  Isabelle ate her lunch and unpacked, but she still felt like venturing out, even if it meant being seen in public with Luther. She went into the bedroom, ran a brush through her hair, put on her sandals, and informed her bodyguard they were going shopping at the mall located underneath the main floor of the casino. She was looking for something a little less formal to wear to dinner that night with the band. She felt as if she stuck out like a sore thumb in her coordinated outfits compared to the band, who looked like they were ready for a night of fighting at the Bright Star.

  A pretty floral dress in a boutique window caught her eye, so she went in to get a better look. She liked the dress and a few other things, and Luther was saddled with a bundle of clothes by the time she got to the dressing room.

  “What do you think?” She walked out of the changing room wearing the dress displayed in the window.

  “Very chic. It complements your skin tone. You should pin your hair up when you wear it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Thanks.” She did a half turn in the three-way mirror, and Luther was right. Taking that as a sign that he had good taste, she paraded out in a dozen outfits for critique. His observations were on point, and she soon felt like she was tootling around with an editor from a fashion magazine, not a burly security specialist who sneered at the man who tried to make small talk with her in the elevator on the way down. By the time she left she’d racked up a nice bill and a new respect for her bodyguard. Maybe having him around wasn’t so bad.

  She perused a few more stores, picking up a few things for Tate. Satisfied she’d gotten everything she needed, she went back to the room.

  Her cell phone rang. She retrieved it from her purse and answered as she sat down on the couch. “Hey, Morgan.”

  “Hi, Izzy. How’s Vegas?”

  “Hot. I think it’s a hundred and twelve today.”

  “Oh, joy,” Morgan groaned. “I’m going to have the keep the boys in the pool all week.”

  “We have the entire floor. How cool is that?”

  “That is cool. The family does that for Super Bowl week too. Have you seen Tyler and Michelle?”

  “No, but I did see the Do Not Disturb sign on their door. It would be cruel to interrupt their fun. How’s the packing going?”

  “Almost done. I’ve only re-packed three times now. Good times.” Morgan laughed. “Is the morning sickness subsiding?”

  “No.”

  “It gets better, I promise. Where’s Tate?”

  “He went to meet with the band and left me with a bodyguard that looks like the entire defensive line of Seth’s team rolled into one person. No offense, Luther.” Isabelle looked up at the bodyguard, then turned her attention back to Morgan. “Did you settle on a school for Jake?”

  “We’ve narrowed it down to a few choices. We have three appointments when we get back from Vegas. You wouldn’t believe the waiting lists these schools have. It’s nuts.”

  “Oh no. What are you going to do?” Isabelle snagged a bunch of grapes off the fruit platter on the coffee table and began nibbling.

  “Nothing, a few of them have said they’d love to have Seth Blake’s son enrolled in their school. Is it sad that I want to scream, don’t take my baby away from me?”

  “No, it just means you love your son very much. We can drown our sorrows in ice cream when you get here.”

  “Absolutely. And maybe we can do some sightseeing with the boys. I can’t wait to see you!” Morgan squealed. “We haven’t vacationed together since college when we went to London that summer.”

  “We’re going to have so much fun. Give Seth and the munchkins my love.”

  Isabelle ended the call. The rest of the family would be arriving in a few days, and it was going to be great having everyone she loved there, celebrating a successful tour for Tate and the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. If only her father would stop referring to Tate as “that cowboy,” everything would be fine.

  Isabelle took a shower and changed into a pair of blue jeans and her new white peasant shirt with pretty flower embroidery on the collar, confident that she’d made the right choice.

  Luther escorted her downstairs to the concert hall where Tate’s concert would be held. The acoustics in the massive auditorium were going to be great for Tate and his band. The instruments sounded sharp and crisp and could be heard from the refreshment stand.

  “Tate’s lady is here!” someone shouted out.

  Isabelle waved hello to the roadies and a few of the band members moving about on the stage as she walked down the aisle. She ascended the stage steps and peeked behind the curtain, but no Tate.

  “Hey, beautiful. You get prettier every time I see you.” Roosevelt Dewey, Tate’s bass guitarist, flashed her a devilish smile as he approached.

  “Hi, Dewey.” Isabelle gave him a hug. “Do you ever turn off that charm?”

  “That depends. When are you going to leave Tate and run away with me?” Dewey grinned.

  “Stay away from my woman, Dewey.” Tate walked onto the stage and put his arms around her.

  Dewey held up his hands. “I was just giving the pretty lady a compliment. I still don’t know how you talked her into marrying you.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Tate turned to Isabelle. “Did you enjoy your day?”

  “Yes, even with Luther watching my every move. I have to admit it wasn’t that bad.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Told you.” Tate gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Dewey, don’t you have something to do?”

  “I suppose I do. We’re due at the restaurant in a half hour, so no sneaking off to cuddle or whatever it is you two do.” Dewey laughed and walked off stage.

  “How did the rehearsal go?”

  “The band is ready; we have some things to fine tune. I like the feel of the auditorium. We’ll do another dry run and work out some kinks after my television interview tomorrow morning, then I’m free for the rest of the day. We can do whatever you like.”

  Isabelle pulled tour brochures out of her purse. “I’d say do some sightseeing, but I was hoping we’d do that with my parents.”

  “I was thinking of taking a tour under our sheets.” He kissed her on the neck.

  “Be serious.” She giggled. “I was thinking of visiting Old Vegas, the Hoover Dam and maybe a beginner’s hiking tra
il at Red Rock Canyon.”

  “I’m serious. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

  “And you will. My parents like to take nature walks. That’s why I suggested the Red Rock. They’re known for their hiking trails. We could make a day of it.”

  “I didn’t bring any hiking boots with me.” Tate hunched his shoulders.

  “I noticed you conveniently forgot to bring them when I unpacked your bags. But no worries. I bought you a pair today.”

  * * *

  Isabelle was losing steam at dinner as the group continued to have a good time well into the night. They were talking and laughing, but she caught herself falling asleep twice. She loved how animated Tate got when he was surrounded by his band. He’d been with them for a long time and they were more like a second family. They loved each other and made great music together. She’d been afraid they wouldn’t take to an outsider, but Cyril and the gang welcomed her with open arms. Dewey was a little sore that he’d lost his wingman; he and Tate had done a lot of catting around together. But he eventually got over it, wished them well, and even asked if Isabelle had a sister at home just like her.

  It was time to go before she did something embarrassing like bang her forehead on the table. Isabelle leaned into Tate and said, “You know what? It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to go up to the room.”

  “OK. Let’s go.” Tate moved his chair back to stand.

  “You stay.” She caressed his hand. “I’m going to take a long soak in the tub.”

  “I hope it wasn’t something we said.” Misty, one of Tate’s backup singers, sipped on her martini.

  “No, the time zone change just has me a little off.” Isabelle turned to Tate and kissed him. “Goodnight, everybody.”

  By the time she made it to the room and said goodnight to Luther, who said he’d be posted outside the suite door, she was desperate for that hot bath. She undressed and slipped on a robe, put her hair up into a floppy ponytail on her head and grabbed the book she had in her tote bag. She lit unscented candles in the bathroom, giving a soft hue to the room. As she tugged on the belt of the robe, she let it fall off her shoulders and looked in the mirror.