by Leigh Duncan
“Hey, now.” Garrett lifted the blubbering baby to his chest. Almost at once, he realized he’d made his first mistake as a large, wet spot spread across his shirt. The boy had drenched himself. “Okay, then. First step, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”
He grabbed the necessary supplies from under a nearby changing table. Stripping the baby down to bare skin, he dodged as a stream arced toward the ceiling.
“What the...?” Garrett cupped his hand over the offending member. “Man, where do you hold it all?” he asked. How long was it before kids started to go to the bathroom on their own? He shook his head. He had no idea.
But something he’d said, or the way he’d said it, had tickled the boy’s fancy. LJ’s tears shifted into laughter. Garrett grinned as he blotted the kid with disposable wipes and awkwardly taped a new diaper in place.
“Partner, we’re gonna have to come to an understanding.” He made a game of capturing the boy’s legs in a one-piece blue outfit. “You quit spraying that stuff, and I’ll buy you some boots and your first pair of Wranglers.”
Lifting the boy, Garrett held his son close enough to breathe in the heady mix of talc and baby shampoo. He smiled when LJ ran his little fingers over his grizzled cheeks. “Daddy needs a shave,” he admitted. He poked LJ’s belly, loving the sound of the boy’s giggles and wondering why he’d denied himself the joy of holding his son in his arms for so long.
* * *
“NO, MRS. AMES,” Lisa said into the phone. “You don’t have to buy a guitar right away. I can provide a rental until Shelby decides whether or not she wants to stick with it.” Though investing in the instrument would make the girl’s success much more likely.
The bell over the door announced a new arrival, and Lisa looked up from the call. Her mouth went dry as Garrett Judd entered the store. She cupped one hand over the mouthpiece. “I’ll just be a minute,” she whispered to the man who’d all too readily agreed to her request for a friends-without-benefits relationship.
Aware that the woman on the phone had continued speaking, Lisa turned her back on Garrett. “I’m sorry. What was that, Mrs. Ames?” She listened, hating herself for letting the rancher distract her. “That will work out perfectly. I’ll look forward to seeing Shelby after school next Wednesday.”
Lisa scribbled the appointment for her first music lesson on her calendar. She counted out four beats before she turned to face Garrett again. Yep, tall, dark and not nearly as brooding as she’d first thought him to be, he towered over her. Looking up at his handsome features stirred a very feminine reaction, and she quashed it. Didn’t the man have a ranch to manage? she asked herself crossly. Sighing, she took a moment to regain her composure while she mustered a much friendlier, “What brings you to Pickin’ Strings in the middle of the day?”
He stuck one hand in the pocket of his jeans. “I think I might have left my guitar pick here the other night. You didn’t happen to see it, did you?”
A guitar pick? His excuse for driving thirty miles into town seemed as thin as the plastic triangles most players used to strum their six-strings. She reached for the jar of inexpensive wedges she kept on the counter and tipped it toward the man. “Haven’t seen yours, but help yourself.”
“Thanks, but I kinda got my heart set on findin’ this one. Mind if I take a look—” he hooked a thumb over one shoulder “—in there?”
Lisa’s heart stuttered when he pointed toward the room where she’d lain in his arms. She told herself to be sensible. Every musician had their favorite tools. To her, one pick was as good as another, but she’d be lost without her capo. The device made it easy to raise or lower the pitch of a stringed instrument, and she’d had the same one ever since she plucked her first banjo.
“Sure. Go ahead.” Though she’d vacuumed every inch of the room since the night of the storm, she couldn’t very well refuse his request. “I’ll be right here if you need anything else.”
Here, as in safely on her side of the counter. It was one thing to insist on a platonic relationship with Garrett. It was quite another to spend time alone in a soundproofed room with him. The man had done an outstanding job of reminding her that she was still a desirable woman, whether she’d ever have a baby of her own or not. No, she thought, resisting the urge to tug on the end of her braid, she didn’t trust herself to go into that room with him again. Watching his slim hips and long, lean legs cover the ground to the door, she was pretty sure no woman alive would.
The phone trilled its distinctive ring. “I’d better get that,” she said, glad for the excuse to stay put. “My ad for music lessons came out in today’s Okeechobee News. I’ve been getting a few calls.”
Explaining her price structure to the next three callers required her full attention for a while. She had penciled two more lessons on her calendar and had just placed the receiver back in its cradle when the bell over the shop’s door jingled. Pleasantly surprised at what was turning into her first busy day since the store opened, she summoned a grin for the latest visitor. Her smile faltered when she recognized the lean form of her ex marching through the shop. She pulled herself erect, her spine stiffening.
“Brad,” she said, determined to keep a civil tongue in her head.
“I was cleaning out the bus and ran across a few of your things.” Without ceremony, her ex-husband plunked a cardboard box down on the counter.
Lisa gave him a stern look. She’d gathered up all her possessions, combed through every cupboard and checked in every closet before she left. She glanced down at an assortment of hats, scarves and belts she’d never seen before. Gingerly she pushed them aside. A stack of old Entertainment Weekly issues took up the rest of the space. “None of this is mine,” she announced.
“Really?” Brad’s eyebrows rose above his dark eyes. “Jessie swore none of it was hers.”
“Maybe it belongs to one of your other girlfriends,” Lisa murmured. She’d refused to believe the rumors of Brad and other women...until she’d caught him in the act with Jessie.
“There was never anyone else.” The man who’d two-timed her with another member of their band held up his hand, his palm facing her. “I swear.”
That was a lie, but there was no point in arguing the point. It was over between them. “Whatever, Brad.”
“Now, sweetheart. Is that any way to talk after I’ve driven all this way just to see how you’re doing?”
According to her lawyer, ’Skeeter Creek had landed a long-standing gig in Tampa. Whatever had possessed her ex to make the three-hour drive from there to Okeechobee, Lisa was pretty sure it had nothing to do with delivering a few discards. But she hadn’t spent five years with Brad without learning his tricks. She gave him a closer look. When he studied a poster she’d tacked to the wall and refused to meet her gaze, she knew he was hiding something. “You might as well tell me the truth and save us the time we’d spend dancing around it. Why are you really here?”
“You know me too well.” Brad’s slim shoulders rose and fell with a long breath. “Jessie’s been, uh, under the weather a bit lately.”
“I hear that happens in a lot of pregnancies.” Not sure how she managed, Lisa kept her voice even and steady.
“Oh, you knew about that?”
“Yeah. I heard.” She gave him a few points for at least trying to look ashamed, though pride still shone in the eyes that finally met hers.
“The thing is, till Jessie is on her feet again, I’m in a bind. I need a lead vocalist. And, well, you’re the best I know. What say you come back to ’Skeeter Creek. Temporarily.”
“I’d say that’s not gonna happen.” She swept a glance at the racks of guitars and mandolins. After her marriage had dissolved, it had taken too long to get her life back on track to get involved with Brad again. On any level.
“C’mon, Lisa. If not for my sake, then do it for the rest of the guys in the band. They all miss you.”
“I miss them, too,” she admitted, though not enough to throw away all she’d
accomplished.
Brad’s expression shifted into a familiar self-confident grin. As if he was certain he’d discovered her weak spot, he pressed the advantage. “You and me and the guys together again. It’ll be like old times.”
“Those old times lost their appeal ages ago.” Warding him off, she stood her ground. To be honest, their marriage had hit the skids long before she’d found him in bed with Jessie. Besides, she could name a dozen singers who’d jump at the chance to perform with ’Skeeter Creek. No doubt Brad could, too.
“Aw, come on, Lisa.” Brad leaned across the counter. “You won’t hold one small mistake against me, now, will you?”
She pointed to the box he’d carted into her store. The box filled with evidence that there had, indeed, been other women. “You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “Give it up, Brad. Tell the rest of the boys I said hello, but I’m done with ’Skeeter Creek. Done with you, too. I’d appreciate it if you left now.”
She didn’t know how much plainer she could state her position. But apparently she’d underestimated Brad’s persistence. He glanced around, as if making sure they had the store to themselves. His voice dropped into a lower register. “You know you don’t mean that, Lisa.” He reached for her.
Lisa reeled back a step. Her arms came up. Almost of their own volition, they folded protectively across her chest.
She’d say one thing about Garrett Judd—for a big man, he moved on cat’s paws when he wanted. Appearing at Brad’s side without warning, the rancher made a solid presence.
Low and guttural, his voice rolled out of him like a growl. “I don’t know about where you’re from, mister, but ’round here, when a lady says ‘Go,’ a gentleman doesn’t wait to be told twice.”
“What the—?” Brad swung toward Garrett. The smaller man’s gaze traveled upward, stopping at a pair of flinty-blue eyes. “Excuse me, but you’re butting in on a conversation that’s none of—”
Whatever he intended to say next got lost in an ominous throat clearing. Lisa suppressed the giggle that bubbled up from her middle when Brad’s face lost all its color. Garrett’s large, tanned hand grasped him by the elbow.
“Time to make tracks,” the rancher insisted. Without appearing to exert much effort at all, he quick-stepped the shorter man past the racks of musical equipment, toward the exit. “Here’s a thought,” he said, opening the door wide. “Don’t come back.”
Brad nearly stumbled out the door. For a second, Lisa thought he might not take no for an answer, but her ex was smarter than she’d given him credit for. He tossed a baleful look into the store, set his cowboy hat at a jaunty angle, and stomped off in the general direction of a public parking lot.
Meanwhile, Garrett gave the departing guest a shrug as he dusted off his hands. Straightening, he strode toward the counter, toward her, looking like a man on a mission.
Was she that mission?
Garrett rounded the counter, coming to a halt so close to her that she felt his breath on her lips. “Are you all right?” he asked without the slightest trace of the anger he’d shown only moments before.
“You didn’t need to step in. I had that.” Having made her point, she softened. “But, um, thanks.”
“Sorry if I overreacted.” Garrett toed one boot across the carpeted floor. “I take it that’s the ex?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. As quickly as it had risen, the adrenaline rush of the past few minutes wore off, and Lisa sagged. She didn’t complain, not even a little bit, when Garrett slipped one arm around her waist. She leaned into his strength, drew on his support.
“I only heard the end of the conversation. What did he want, anyway?”
“Me.” She laughed. “To come back on the road with him. As if that would ever happen.” In answer to the confusion that swam in Garrett’s eyes, she explained, “The doctors thought the stress of being on the road so much, performing every night, might be one of the reasons I couldn’t get pregnant. They suggested I take a break. By then, I’d already tried IVF without success. And things were, well, tense between Brad and me. I think, even then, I knew it was over between us. I rented a little house for six months and hired a temporary replacement for the band. One night, when they were playing close by, I drove out to meet him, hoping things weren’t as bad as I thought. The surprise was on me.” She gave a dry laugh. “That was the night I caught Brad in bed with Jessie.”
“Man.” A muscle along Garrett’s jaw twitched. “That had to be tough.”
“It was hard. I won’t deny it.” The tears she’d been holding back threatened. She scrubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“Hey now,” Garrett said, his voice a low rumble. He flexed his fingers as though he wished they were around Brad’s neck.
It was funny how often she and Garrett connected on the same wavelength. And how often they didn’t, she corrected when he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. She placed her palm against his chest and backed out of his embrace.
“Thanks, Garrett. For listening...and for being here today. I guess you understand why I can’t get involved with you. Not now. Not while we’re working together. After what happened between Jessie and Brad, well, I’m not in the market for anything more than friendship.”
The tall rancher shrugged. “Neither of us is in a place to want more than that. Friends, that’s good with me.”
No matter how often she told herself a friendship with Garrett was all she wanted, all they could have, it stung when he agreed to her request as if it had been his idea all along. As if he hadn’t just brushed a kiss through her hair and she hadn’t wanted to tip her face to his and see where another kiss would lead. With grim determination, she pushed her feelings aside to examine later. A change of topic was in order, and she asked if he’d found his pick.
“Oh, yeah.” A heart-tugging grin slipped onto Garrett’s face. He dug two fingers into a tiny slit above the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a speckled wedge.
She gazed down at the worn tortoise shell. Despite her earlier admonition, she cupped his hand in hers. His fingers curled around the triangle. “You don’t see many of those anymore.” Not since the big turtles had made it onto the endangered species list. “Do you actually play with it?”
“Nah, it’s too fragile. I’m scared I’d break it. But it was one of my dad’s, so I keep it handy. I’m sure glad I found it.”
They chatted a minute or two longer before Garrett headed back to the ranch. Watching him leave, Lisa rubbed one finger across her forehead. Who would have guessed that the tall, brooding rancher had a sentimental heart? Or that she’d like him even more after learning he carried his late father’s guitar pick wherever he went?
Chapter Five
Last night when the stars were out,
I was only thinking of you.
Leaning back in the rocker, Garrett hummed the next two lines of the lullaby. He sat for a minute, studying the baby who lay in his crib, one thumb in his mouth, dark lashes fanning the translucent skin under his eyes. LJ had drifted off before he’d even finished the first verse. Just as well, Garrett thought. The tune, a waltz, had come to him during the night, but the words—he wasn’t sure he’d ever get those right. Rising, the rancher propped his guitar in the corner and crossed to the crib. He patted the boy’s well-padded bottom.
“Love you, son,” he whispered. Moisture stung his eyes. He blinked it away.
Two weeks ago, he’d have scoffed at anyone who predicted that at dinner tonight he’d pretend his hand was an airplane and LJ’s mouth the hangar as he spooned baby food from a jar. He’d have laughed out loud if someone suggested that one day, soon, he’d sing LJ to sleep at night or change the boy’s diaper. Though he’d have bet against the possibility that he’d ever bounce his baby on his lap, he thanked heaven and the stars above for the second chance he’d been given.
Lost in his own pain and grief, he’d missed out on too many of his child’s early months. He wouldn’t wallow in despair again. Not
when he had so much to live for.
“He’s going to be all right,” he whispered to his late wife’s memory. “We’re going to be all right.”
Garrett slipped his guitar into its case and gently closed the door. As he tiptoed down the stairs, his boots made soft, scuffing noises on the risers. Though he was pretty sure LJ would sleep through anything short of a herd of elephants, he paused at every noise, hardly daring to breathe until he reached the first floor. From there, he headed to the kitchen, where his mom and younger brother, Hank, lingered over coffee.
Doris looked up from hers. “He’s down for the night, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.” LJ had started sleeping through the night at three months, which made it a whole lot easier for him and Hank to slip off to the jam at Pickin’ Strings. “He was sound asleep before I finished the first song,” Garrett said with a satisfied grin.
“You don’t say. To hear you boys tell it, all my grandchildren are perfect angels.” Doris sipped from her mug. “Hank was just tellin’ me about Noelle’s blue ribbons. Did you know she’s turned into quite the barrel racer?”
Garrett nodded. “Everyone says she’s a natural. I wouldn’t be surprised if she heads to Las Vegas for the national rodeo finals in a few years.” If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Hank’s chest swelled.
“I’d sure like to see her compete before then,” Doris mused.
Garrett fought the urge to give himself a good rap on the noggin. LJ had occupied most of his mother’s time, but he wasn’t her only grandchild. He couldn’t fault her for wanting to spend time with the others. Especially Noelle, who lived with her dad only part-time. “Isn’t she riding in Kissimmee this weekend?”
Garrett sought confirmation in a pair of blue eyes much like his own before he helped himself to a cup of coffee.
“Yeah.” Hank hesitated. “As a matter of fact, if I weren’t going with you tonight, I’d be helpin’ her get ready for it.” Training for the rodeo wasn’t enough. There were saddles to soap, boots to polish and horses to curry.