Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2) (18 page)

“Thank you.” Turning toward Micki, Abby took her hand. “I hate dress shopping and put it off as long as I can. C’mon. Let’s find something wonderful for you. Some of the most famous singers and their wives shop here.”

Trish chuckled and shook her head. “You both know that list includes y’all.”

“Don’t remind me.” Micki let Abby lead her toward a rack of gowns with a famous designer name over it. “I don’t dress up much.”

With a laugh, Abby stopped in front of a manikin showcasing another over-the-top scrap of sequins and silk. “Neither do I. Especially now that nothing fits. But even if I wasn’t as big as a buffalo, I’m much more comfortable in scrubs or jeans. Of course, I don’t wear scrubs now that I quit my nursing job and stay home to manage our ranch.” With her hair lying over one shoulder, Abby looked very much like a Native American maiden. She regarded Micki with deep honey-brown eyes. “You were gorgeous on your wedding day.”

“Thank you.”

Trish and the sales lady who’d greeted Micki circled the rows and manikins. Trish stopped in front of one of the models beside another rack full of dresses.

“I think you should try this on, Micki.” She pointed to a long navy dress with a waistline embellished with clear rhinestones that sparkled like diamonds.

“This dress would be perfect on you, Mrs. McKenna.” The sales lady pasted on her fake smile. “I’ll have to go in the back to find your size. You’re a size two?” Now, she was just sucking up.

“No, I’m an eight.” Micki drifted toward Trish and the manikin like a skittish horse toward a person holding a carrot. She wasn’t sure about the gown, but she liked the subdued color and the old Hollywood look of it.

Abby followed. “I agree. That blue is such a complimentary color for you.”

Micki brushed the organza overlay of the skirt with a trembling hand. It was one of the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen, and excitement filled her. Gabe wanted her to look good, and as she let the soft silk of the gown soothe her fingers, a need to impress him filled her, regardless of how much it would cost her.

She looked up and smiled. “It is a beautiful dress.”

The sales woman returned from the back of the store with the gown in Micki’s size draped over her arms. “Mrs. McKenna, I’ll show you to the dressing room.”

* * * *

“Michaela?” Gabe’s muffled voice echoed from the living room below. “We have to go.”

She sucked in a deep breath and took one last look at her reflection in the mirrored closet door of the dressing room inside Gabe’s master suite. Earlier that day, Abby had taken her to have her hair and nails done, as if they somehow became undone since the day before her wedding a week ago. She had to admit she loved the sleek, classic look of the updo the hairdresser had twisted her usually messy locks into. The dress fit perfectly and reminded her of something Elizabeth Taylor may have worn in her heyday.

She took a deep breath and rested her hand on the cinched waist. As she filled her lungs with air, the off-the-shoulder bodice lifted, revealing a little more cleavage. The neckline dipped low but not far enough to make her self-conscious. A diamond pendant that had belonged to Frankie hung at her neck, and simple diamond studs, belonging to her mother, glinted at her ears. She’d worn them on her wedding day and was thankful for the impulse she had to pack them for the trip to Nashville. As on her wedding day, stinging nerves battered her insides. With a touch to the rhinestone leaf design at the waist of the dress, she prayed she’d survive the night, then dropped her hand. Time to face the lions.

“Coming.” She picked up a rhinestone-covered clutch that Trish insisted she carry and stepped into the ridiculously high shoes Abby had helped her pick out. As she headed through Gabe’s bedroom, she glanced at the king-sized bed and closed her eyes. Was she crazy to wish things could have been different between them?

She picked up the layers of the skirt in the hand she also held her purse with and applied a death grip on the handrail as she maneuvered down the stairs. So intent on not tripping over either her dress or her high heels, she paid no attention to Gabe until he whistled low in his throat.

Stopping mid-flight, she looked at him as he stared at her with a fire in his eyes that scorched her despite the distance between them. She forced her eyes to the stairs and bit the inside of her cheek to keep a pleased smile from forming on her lips. Not wanting him to see how his appreciation affected her, she continued her hesitant journey down the curved staircase. “You startled me and are damned lucky I didn’t fall and break my fool neck.” She stepped off the last stair, let go of her skirt, and took a good look at the country music hunk that was her husband. “Oh, I see it’s perfectly okay for you to wear jeans and boots, but I have to dress up like some damn princess.”

He set his hat on his head and grinned. She would never let him know how hot he looked in the tight black jeans and light blue western shirt open at the neck. A western-styled black leather jacket, boots, and a black Stetson completed his red carpet look. Nor would she let him know how dressing up somehow transformed her into feeling like Cinderella ready for the ball. But she knew at the end of the night she’d turn back into a cowgirl, and he’d still be the man who had broken her heart. He’d never be her prince.

Her hand trembled at his touch as he wrapped his around it. “You look amazing.”

His gruff voice set her heart free at a full gallop, and she shivered when he kissed her fingers.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Did that husky sound belong to her?

“I never doubted that you would. I am honored to stand beside you tonight.” The openness of his gaze stopped her breath.

He leaned forward as if to kiss her, and she wanted it, but she broke the trance she was under by taking a step back. “We better leave.”

“I have a gift for you before we go.” He picked up a long, white fur coat off the couch.

“What’s that?” She hadn’t seen it there before she’d gone upstairs to dress.

He held out the coat. “It’s November in Tennessee. You forgot to get a coat.”

As beautiful as it was, revulsion flooded her. How many poor exotic animals gave up their lives for a coat? By no stretch of the imagination was she a tree hugger. She worked on a ranch that raised beef and she wore plenty of leather made from cattle, but killing some defenseless animal for its skin alone went too far. “I can’t wear it.”

He laughed and lifted the coat for her to put on. “It’s not real, Michaela. The coat is faux white mink. I wouldn’t buy you a coat made from the fur of an animal that’s only raised for the purpose of being skinned to make coats. I’m not that heartless.”

She smoothed her hand over the silkiness of the coat. “I hope no one thinks it’s real.”

“They won’t. Not many people wear real fur anymore.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Now the thing is to get a fake coat that looks more real than anyone else’s, not to compare whose dead animal is more exotic and expensive.” As he helped her into the coat, he leaned over to whisper into her ear from behind. “I can’t wait to show you off. I wasn’t exaggerating about tonight being the most important night of my career, and I’m glad you are here beside me to share it with me.”

She turned and met his gaze, not sure which heated her more: the intensity of his eyes or the coat. “I’m glad I’m here, too. Thank you for the coat.”

He feathered his fingers over her cheek to her lips. Before he could kiss her, the door opened and Trish bustled in. “Gabe, we’ve got to leave now.”

Grinning, he winked at Micki and took her hand. “C’mon, Mrs. McKenna, time to show the world how much we love each other.”

She swallowed hard and forced a smile. Inside her heart, she found it harder to distinguish between what was an act and what was fact.

* * * *

“Gabe, you’re on in ninety seconds.”

Gabe looked over his shoulder at the stage director. “Thanks, Natalie.”

His heart still raced from being named Male Vocalist, but it also thumped heavy in his chest for a different reason now. Despite his always getting nervous at award show performances, tonight was different. His stomach churned and his skin was clammy. He wasn’t only singing on national TV and to his peers; he was singing to the woman he loved, which scared him to death.

With a deep breath, he picked up his guitar and headed to the stage. As the hostess announced him, he took his place in front of his band.

Joel watched him with a pucker in his forehead. “You’re sweating. You okay, man?”

His bass player had always been too observant.

“Yep.” When the panel concealing them from the audience split and opened behind him, he turned into the blinding lights of the Bridgestone Arena. Despite the glare, he knew exactly where Michaela was in the crowd and looked in her direction. He swallowed and strummed his pick over the strings of his guitar. “This is for my beautiful wife.”

He took another deep breath, hoping to calm the jitters, and played the intro of the ballad he’d written on their wedding night after leaving Michaela and going to his own room across the hall. As his backup singer, Jessica, joined in with the mournful sound of a fiddle, the song poured out of him. On their way to Nashville, he’d changed some of the verse he’d written that night. He’d made it a love song that apologized for all that he’d done wrong. As he belted out the story of a romance gone wrong and the joy of finding love again in lyric and rhyme, his heart ached with the painful truth. He wished he could see Michaela’s face as he asked for a second chance and that he’d always love only one woman--her.

When the song ended and the audience applauded, he bowed and waited for the panel to close again, anxious to get back to his seat. As the show went to a commercial break, he handed his guitar, wireless mike, and earpieces to a waiting stagehand, then hurried for his seat.

Seth grinned and cuffed him on the shoulder as they passed in the aisle. He was the next multiple award nominee to sing. “That, my friend, was a great song.”

He supposed if anyone understood the joy of forgiveness and rekindled love, it was Seth. “Thanks.” Gabe took his seat beside Michaela. She watched him with open curiosity. What was she thinking? His heart raced as he took her trembling hand. “Did you like the song?”

She swallowed and chewed on her bottom lip. “When…When did you write it?”

His heart sank a little at her avoidance of answering by asking another question. “On our wedding night.”

The surprise in her widened eyes gave him hope. Maybe she could forgive him and give them a chance.

The announcer came over the PA system to welcome them back to the
CMA
s, and Gabe kissed Michaela with the depth of his true feelings.

* * * *

Micki watched the rest of the show in a daze. What the hell did Gabe mean by singing a song about regrets, forgiveness, and love? Did he mean any of it? Or was it just part of the act of them pretending to be in love?

She didn’t have any answers, but a budding hope that he did love her filled her.

Could she ever forgive him?

She hated to admit that for them to ever have any future, she had to let go of the past. Did she have the strength to forgive him--and as importantly--trust him again?

He shifted in his seat as if anxious and drummed his fingers on his thigh. She glanced at him and took his hand. He gave her a small smile and gripped her fingers. His hand was cold, and she wasn’t sure if it was from his nerves or the cool temperature of the Bridgestone Arena, where only a makeshift floor covered the Nashville Predators’ icy home. What had him so rattled?

During a commercial break, Emily Kendall moved past Micki and Gabe and the reason for his case of the jitters dawned on her. Emily was one of the presenters for the Entertainer of the Year award. Gabe had seemed to be nominated for every award except the band awards and Female Vocalist. He’d won three categories so far. Besides Single of the Year and Male Vocalist awards tonight, Gabe, Seth, Nate O’Connell, and her cousin Logan Cartwright had won the Best Vocal Event last week with the song they’d opened the show with.

After the commercial break, which seemed to be when the sets were changed and people shifted to the stage and back to the audience, the hosts announced the last set of presenters--two of country music’s fastest rising stars. Emily Kendall, who was quickly becoming a teen country-pop sensation, and the ex-divorce lawyer who melted hearts with his love songs, Logan Cartwright, entered the stage from a center break in the panels that acted like curtains. He was tall and handsome, wearing the same outfit as most of the male singers--jeans and a western-style shirt. Emily was dressed in a super short, low-cut, slinky dress with large cut out patterns revealing provocative areas of her skin under thin, gauzy black mesh. The mess of a dress was nothing like the elegant, conservative gown she’d worn only moments earlier.

“What the hell is she wearing?” Seth’s low grumble was hard not to overhear.

Sitting beside Micki, Abby gasped. “I have no idea. She wasn’t supposed to change for this.”

Micki supposed she would be a little upset, too, if her seventeen-year-old daughter wore something more suitable for a strip joint than a formal event. She glanced over at the Kendalls as they whispered to each other. Thank God Jesse had no interest in singing.

Gabe squeezed her hand and she brought her attention to him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Was he praying? How badly did he want this award?

She shook her head and focused on the stage. Logan Cartwright and Emily took turns announcing the nominees. Micki’s heart beat faster as Gabe and then Seth were listed while clips from their recent music videos played on the large screens on either side of the stage.

Logan grinned at the audience as Emily fumbled with the envelope, seemingly having trouble getting the seal to break. “Shouldn’t there be a rule about conflict of interest considering we all know you want your daddy to win?”

As a sputtering of laughter at the ex-lawyer’s joke drifted through the audience, Emily broke the seal and looked at Logan with a bright, red-lipped smile. She showed him the name inside the card and together they said, “Gabe McKenna!”