by Judy Duarte
Just as they’d done during their practice sessions on his porch at the ranch, they sang and played their hearts out. And when they were done, the honky-tonk crowd whooped and hollered and cheered.
This wasn’t the kind of stage Carly had set her sights on, but it certainly was the audience appreciation she’d hoped for. She glanced at Ian, who simply nodded at the crowd, then returned to his seat at the table.
So much for wishing he’d be inspired by the crowd’s reaction.
Carly had no more than reached the booth where they’d been sitting earlier when Earl Tellis joined her and Ian.
“That was amazing. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed hearing you two play and sing. What talent—and you seem to bring out the best in each other.”
Carly brightened. She’d felt that same chemistry in Ian’s arms as well as on his front porch when they’d sung together. So it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d sensed it. “Why, thank you, Earl.”
“In fact, I’d like to offer you a job singing here on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“That’d be great.” Carly glanced at Ian, hoping he’d be as flattered as she was.
“Thanks for the offer,” Ian said, “but I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
His words slammed into her, and she struggled to get back on an even keel. “Mr. Tellis, why don’t you let us talk this over. We’ll get back to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk over,” Ian said. “My mind was made up before I even walked in the door.”
She’d known that, but she’d hoped he’d feel differently once they got on stage together, once he saw the reaction she’d expected. “Can’t you please think about it for a few days? I mean, what would it hurt?”
“I’m a rancher, not a performer.” Ian tipped his hat at Earl. “But thanks again for the offer, Mr. Tellis.”
Carly crossed her arms. “Well, my mind isn’t made up.”
“Isn’t it?” Ian’s gaze grilled into her. “Nobody is stopping you from taking the gig. I wouldn’t dream of trying to talk you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”
Her cheeks flamed with guilt, and she couldn’t think of a response, other than another apology, but she doubted that would help at this point.
“I’ll see you back at the ranch,” he said.
As Ian strode across the floor, Carly turned to Earl. “Give me a day or two. But either way, I might just take the job, even if I have to find another guitarist.”
Then she followed Ian outside. She didn’t catch up to him until they reached the graveled parking lot.
“I’m sorry for pushing so hard,” Carly said to his back. “But what’s the matter with you? I don’t get it. You have more talent than anyone I’ve ever met. You could really go somewhere with that guitar and your voice. Do you know how many people would kill for talent like that?”
Ian slowed to a stop and turned. “I’m not interested in going anywhere. Remember?”
“Yes, but why not? Are you afraid of crowds? Everyone gets a little nervous before performing, but you’ll get used to it. I promise.”
“Just drop it, Carly. You might have set your sights on a singing career, but I haven’t. Can’t you get it through your pretty head and one-track brain that I’m perfectly content staying in Brighton Valley?”
“Yes, I know. You told me that. But I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it. Not when you’re so musically gifted. Have you ever heard yourself play and sing? You’re every country girl’s dream.”
Ian lifted his hat and raked his fingers through his dark hair. “That life isn’t for me, Carly. And nothing you can say is going to change my mind.”
“You’re as stubborn as a mule, Ian McAllister.”
He blew out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “You might have been able to wrap your daddy and mama around your little finger—or guilt them into doing whatever you asked. But it won’t work with me.” Then he turned and headed for his truck.
“Darn it, Ian.” She followed after him, speaking to his broad back. “You have no idea what it was like for me as a child. And just for the record, I was never able to guilt anyone into doing squat for me.”
When he reached for the door handle, she grabbed his shirtsleeve and gave it a tug. “Would you please wait?”
He turned, and their gazes met. She stroked his muscular forearm, hoping to disarm his irritation. For a moment, passion flared between them, just as it always did whenever she touched him. But this time, her entire body began to buzz, too. Colors merged and Ian’s face blurred before her eyes.
Her lips parted, but before she could tell him she felt lightheaded, everything went black.
* * *
Ian had never been so angry at a woman in his life. He was about to lay into Carly and tell her so, when her grip on his arm loosened and she uttered a weird sound before slumping to the ground in a dead faint.
What the hell? He stooped and caught her just before her head hit the gravel.
“Carly? Are you all right?” He knelt beside her, holding her close, his heart pounding like crazy. “Honey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
A couple of cowboys wandered past him, heading to the bar. As they spotted him holding a limp Carly, they changed their course and approached him.
“Is she okay?” one asked. “Do you need an ambulance?”
Ian had a cell phone in his pocket, but he’d rather have both hands available to hold her. “Yeah. Would you call 9-1-1?”
He had no idea what was wrong with her. He did know she’d come home from San Antonio with some kind of lingering virus. Or so her brother Jason had told him.
Was it something more serious? Something Carly hadn’t wanted him to know?
Ian had no idea, but the thought of losing her, of seeing her hooked up to wires and tubes and...
Okay, slow down. Maybe she’d only fainted. Maybe it was something easily explained, like iron-poor blood.
“Do you know CPR?” the cowboy who wasn’t talking on his cell phone asked.
Ian had taken a first-aid course in high school. And while he wasn’t an expert, he remembered what he’d learned. But Carly’s pulse was strong, her breathing slow but steady. “She doesn’t need it.”
Not yet, anyway.
The cowboy on his cell disconnected the line, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Paramedics are on the way.”
By that time, a small crowd had gathered around them. Someone whispered, “That’s the pretty little gal who was singing just a few minutes ago. I wonder what happened?”
“Was she hit by a car?” another bystander asked.
“She’s probably had too much to drink,” the guy next to him said.
Ian didn’t bother to set either of them straight. His thoughts were centered on Carly.
When she moaned and lifted her hand to her forehead, he figured that was a good sign. “Honey, are you okay?”
Her eyes flickered opened. She looked at him and blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus.
What had caused her to pass out? High blood pressure? Low blood sugar? At times like this, Ian wished he’d gone on to medical school like his grandma had hoped he’d do. But first aid, a human biology course in junior college and talking to every nurse or doctor he could corner while seated at his granddad’s bedside in the cardiac unit ICU four years ago hadn’t made him an expert.
After what seemed like ages, but was probably only a couple of minutes, an ambulance sounded in the distance, causing Carly to become even more aware of her surroundings.
“What...happened?” she asked.
“You passed out.” Ian brushed the hair from her forehead and caressed her cheek.
She glanced at the crowd gathered around her, pressing into them.
“Give her some air,” Ian told the bystanders.
Carly tried to sit up, but he stopped her. “Just lie here until the paramedics arrive. We’ll get you checked out at the medical center, and you’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time at all.”
She slumped back in his arms. “I was going to call and make a doctor’s appointment on Monday morning.”
“Yeah, well, now you won’t need to do that.” Before he could say anything else, the ambulance pulled into the lot, red lights flashing.
The crowd slowly dispersed, giving paramedics room to move in. Ian knew he should give them space to work, too, so he asked one of the cowboys still standing nearby if he could borrow his jacket.
He rolled it up and placed it under Carly’s head, then he eased back, but he remained on his knees beside her.
The paramedics, a red-haired man and a brunette woman, moved in to assess their patient. After taking Carly’s vitals, the woman asked, “Any chance you could be pregnant?”
The question, the remote possibility, nearly knocked the wind right out of Ian, and while he waited for Carly’s response, he thought he might pass out, too.
Chapter Four
Pregnant?
The very question threw Carly into a tailspin that had nothing to do with her becoming lightheaded before and everything to do with Ian, who was gazing at her, waiting for an answer.
Sure, the thought had crossed her mind a time or two, but she’d never had morning sickness. She’d only been nauseous in the evenings. She’d also had a couple of periods, although they’d been lighter than usual, which was normal for her, considering her gynecological problems. But what difference did that make? Her doctor had told her it was unlikely that she’d ever conceive.
Had that diagnosis been wrong? Could she have conceived a baby during her fling with Ian? Could that be the real cause of her bouts of nausea and not some strange virus?
They’d used protection, but there were nights when their passion had been so hot, when they’d been so desperate for sexual release that they’d become careless once or twice. But she couldn’t admit that here—and now.
Still, she had to respond to the unsettling question. She should be completely honest with the paramedics, but she didn’t want to deal with a life-altering possibility now. Not in front of a gaping crowd.
And certainly not in front of the man who’d be the baby’s father.
So she said, “No, I don’t think so.”
While the paramedics took her vitals, Ian got to his feet and took a step back, allowing them room to work. But he remained beside her, waiting, watching. Listening.
The brunette medic kneeling beside Carly pulled the stethoscope from her ears. “Everything appears to be normal, but it might be a good idea for us to take you to the hospital just to be sure. The doctors may want to run some tests.”
A pregnancy test would probably be the first one on the list, but Carly couldn’t deal with that thought tonight.
“I’m feeling better now,” she said. “I’d rather just go home and take it easy. I’ll call my doctor first thing on Monday morning and make an appointment to see her.”
Ian eased closer. “Carly, I’d rather you go to the ER tonight and get checked out.”
Was he concerned about her health—or eager to hear if she was pregnant? She wanted to have that test, too, so she could rule it out.
Or wrap her mind around the possibility.
The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed—in spite of what her doctor had said. But if she was pregnant, she’d be...what? Four months along? Why, that was nearly halfway there...
She fought a flash of panic and the urge to place her hand on her tummy, where she’d noticed that she’d put on weight. She’d blamed it on her hormonal imbalance. But had she been wrong?
She scanned the faces of the strangers who’d gathered around her.
This couldn’t be happening.
Think, girl. Think.
“I’m sure it isn’t anything serious.” She sat up, hoping her head didn’t start spinning again. But shoot, just thinking about—
Oh, for Pete’s sake. She was making way too much out of this. A doctor had given her every reason to believe that it was unlikely she would ever be able to have a baby. Besides, she and Ian had used contraceptives, so surely there wasn’t a chance of pregnancy. At least, she hoped not.
Carly blew out a sigh and looked at Ian. “I’m fine. I didn’t have much for lunch, so I probably just need to eat something.”
He studied her, questioning her with a gaze so intense that she felt herself start to unravel.
To be honest, she wasn’t sure about anything right now, but she didn’t want him to worry—or worse, have any doubts about the truth of her response.
“I’m sure a juicy hamburger will do the trick.” She offered him a wobbly smile, although the thought of a greasy burger suddenly turned her stomach.
The crowd, no doubt realizing her fainting spell was minor and that there’d be more excitement inside the honky-tonk, began to disperse. And the paramedics packed up their gear.
The only one who didn’t seem convinced that the crisis was over was Ian.
* * *
Concern and suspicion swirled in Ian’s head, at odds with each other. Carly might say that she couldn’t be pregnant, but why had she fainted? Was it just a troubling stomach bug?
If she was pregnant and the baby was Ian’s, she’d have to be about four months along. But then again, she could have met someone else while she was away, someone who’d broken her heart and caused her to quit the show and run home to the Leaning R.
The realization that she might have found another guy so quickly didn’t sit very well and gnawed at him for more reasons than one.
After he and Felicia Jamison had become lovers, things had been good between them for a while. But then Felicia had gotten pregnant. Ian had been stunned, yet pleased at the prospect of becoming a father. But she’d chosen to have an abortion rather than have their baby, saying that a child would sidetrack her booming career.
Ian had always wanted a family of his own, so he’d been crushed by her decision. And that’s when the bright lights and glamour of touring and performing onstage began to fade.
His and Felicia’s relationship had faded at that point, too. And she soon moved on to someone else.
Ian hadn’t been all that bothered by their breakup, though. The fact that Felicia had cared so little about the baby they’d created told him how she felt about their relationship—and about him.
Splitting up had actually been for the best. He wanted more out of a lifetime partner, more out of a wife.
He reached out to Carly and helped her to her feet. “Then let’s go home. We’ll take my pickup. You can leave yours here, and I’ll bring you back to get it in the morning.”
He half expected her to object, since they didn’t always see things eye to eye, but she said, “All right.”
“And on the way home,” he added, “I’ll get you that juicy burger.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” She followed him to his Dodge Ram. When he opened the passenger door, she slid onto the seat.
The drive to Burger Junction only took five minutes, yet neither of them spoke on the way.
Was Carly still feeling the effects of her fainting spell? Or was she thinking about what might really be wrong with her? His curiosity, as well as the silence in the cab, grew until he thought he’d go crazy.
“Do you want to order takeout or go inside and eat?” he asked.
“Actually, I’d rather eat at home—if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
They pulled into the drive-through and placed their orders. When they finally headed back to the ranch, Ian’s suspicion had built to the poin
t that it was all he could think of.
He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared out the window and into the night.
“So you don’t think you could be pregnant?” he asked.
She bit down on her bottom lip, as though pondering the question—or even the possibility. Then she turned to him. “I don’t see how. I mean, we used condoms.”
Did that mean he was the only possible father?
“They aren’t a hundred percent effective,” he said.
“I know, but I doubt I’m pregnant.” She offered him a breezy smile that didn’t do much to reassure him.
“Maybe we should stop by the all-night drugstore in Wexler and pick up a pregnancy test.”
“We don’t need to do that. I’d rather wait and see what the doctor has to say on Monday.”
She hadn’t given him any reason to think that she’d been with someone else. Not that he could object since they’d ended things between them. It’s just that he hadn’t felt the need to find another lover.
Not yet, anyway.
Still, after what he and Felicia had gone through, Ian wasn’t sure he wanted to face something similar again.
Damn. That’s all he needed—Carly pregnant with his baby, yet hell-bent on being a star.
Then again, she’d said she didn’t think it was possible. And at this point, he had no reason to doubt her.
* * *
True to his word, Ian took Carly to get her pickup at the Stagecoach Inn on Saturday morning. To ease the awkwardness and to avoid discussing her potential health issue, Carly focused their conversation on safe subjects like the weather and the long-forgotten items in Granny’s attic that still needed to be sorted through and packed away.
As soon as they arrived at the honky-tonk, she slid out of the truck, grabbed her purse and thanked him for the ride.
“No problem.” He studied her again, his left arm draped over the steering wheel, his expression unreadable. “I’ll follow you back to the ranch.”
And face his scrutiny again? She’d be a basket case within an hour. “You go on ahead. I have some errands to run in Wexler, so I’ll see you later.”