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

At least he was here and not
that
woman. Before Micki could let Gabe’s betrayal bog her down any farther, she tipped her hat at the motley men and the woman of the band.

“Hello. Most people call me Micki. Gabe’s the only one who’s ever really called me Michaela.” Her smile was stiff as she grasped the beer bottle with a death grip and tried to not stare at the man taking up more than his share of space beside her. She shouldn’t drink, she had a long drive back to Bluebonnet Creek, Texas, but she needed it more now than ever.

Joel, Gabe's bassist, pushed his long black hair from his face and looked her up and down from where he lounged on the couch. “You’re not a groupie. You’re the ex.”

Taken aback, Micki glanced at Gabe, who took a big swig of his beer. They hadn’t been together since Gabe decided he was tired of cowboying and singing in honky-tonks and then hightailed it to Nashville only two days before their wedding seven years ago.

With another woman.

“You were married? How’d you keep that secret?” The bright light over the table turned Robby’s spiked bleached blond hair white. A cigarette dangled between the fingers of the drummer’s left hand. “I’m surprised Andrea didn’t let the world know you were married before her when you broke up.”

“Never quite made it to the altar.” Gabe took another pull on the bottle before he sat it on the counter of what passed for a kitchen of sorts. He peered at Micki with narrowed eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

Micki downed a quarter of the beer, trying to get her bearings. It was impossible. She’d already had the eleven-hour drive to Kansas City to figure out how she was going to tell Gabe the news. She sat her bottle beside his. “Can we...”--she glanced at the men and woman watching her with amusement and curiosity--“go somewhere...”

Gabe nodded and led her though a door at the end of a narrow passage. A burst of panic zinged through her at the sight of the bed taking up most of the space. How many women had he had sex with in this room? Had Andrea been one of them? Of course she’d been. When the door clicked closed, she jumped and turned to him. She didn’t care about his private life. Couldn’t care.

“What’s going on, Michaela?”

She wrung her hands together. “I’ve come to--to tell you Sam and... and Frankie...”

“If this is about Dad and your sister, I don’t care.”

She sniffed back the sudden burn of fresh tears. “Oh, Gabe...”

When she wobbled on her feet, he was there in a heartbeat and guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. He quickly withdrew his arm, but sat next to her. Their thighs touched. Her heart leapt and her breath caught. How could she want him to wrap her up in his strong arms? She never wanted him to touch her again, did she? Mustering all of her strength, she pulled her shoulders up, breathing air scented with leather, sandalwood, and Gabe.

No amount of pretending she was strong would stave off her overwhelming grief. How could she have any more tears left to cry? The last thing she wanted to do was bawl in front of him, but she detested the news she was about to break. Even if he didn’t care.

“What’s going on?”

His face was a blur through a watery haze. She used her hands to wipe away the tears and sniffed again. “Sam and Frankie were flying from Dallas to Brownwood and Sam’s plane crashed. They’re gone, Gabe. That’s all I know.”

* * * *

Gabe let the news sink in. When it did, the shock quickly gave way to... nothing. He wanted to feel grief for the man who’d given him life, but in the end only numbness and hatred penetrated his heart.

His hand fisted against his thigh. Micki reached out, and after a brief hesitation laid her hand over his fist. He sucked in a breath at the buzz of awareness zipping through him at her gentle touch. All too fast, and yet not soon enough, she withdrew and folded her hands together in her lap.

Gabe despised his father for cheating on his dying mother with Micki’s older sister. She was half his age, but Sam married her three months after Gabe’s mother died from breast cancer. Frankie had been five months pregnant.

As Gabe met Micki’s shimmery blue eyes again, fear twisted his gut. “Where’s Jesse?”

“He’s with Momma, and Mary Nelson is looking in on them.”

Her words eased the fear a little. He wanted nothing to do with his father or his father’s wife, but he didn’t hate the product of their union. Somehow, their ten-year-old son had stolen his heart. His baby brother was safe.

“Momma and me are...” She hiccupped and shook her head. “We were watching him while Sam and Frankie went to Dallas for one of her art shows.” From her back pocket, she pulled a red and white handkerchief to wipe her eyes and nose. “I knew you’d want to know.”

He stared at her. Despite everything that went wrong between them, she’d brought him the news instead of him hearing it through other channels.

Don’t read too much into it.
Michaela never cared about him before, or she’d not have broken their engagement two days before the wedding. She’d have believed in him when Andrea took him to Nashville, and she would have trusted him.

“Thanks for telling me.” Gabe stood and leaned on the doorframe. His father was gone. What did it all mean for him? Loud music sounded from the main room, drawing his attention. The drivers of the two busses would be anxious to get moving; the production crew would follow with their semi-trucks and another two busses. They had another show in Omaha tomorrow night. Jesse’s being alone was all that mattered now.

Gabe jerked when a knock sounded on the door. As he straightened, the panel cracked open and Gary said, “Gabe, we need to get rolling.”

“I’ve got to go. I have to get back home. Momma is taking all of this hard.” Micki stood by his side. “And I can’t leave Jesse with her too long.”

He focused on her red-rimmed cornflower eyes. She’d been crying for a while. “Michaela, I’m sorry.”

She sniffed, close to tears again, and nodded stiffly. “I loved my sister. Despite all of her bad behavior and her marriage to your daddy, I loved her.”

“I know.” He wanted to touch her wet cheek and take away the tears.

Gary shattered the impulse. “Is the girl staying or going? We’ve got to move.”

“I’m leaving.” Micki headed out the door as Gary moved to the side in the narrow passage. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of the arrangements. If I can have your number, I’ll call you with the time of the service. That is, if you’re interested.”

“Yeah. Call me.” Gabe dug in his wallet for a personal business card. “My cell number’s the last one listed.”

Micki nodded again and took the card with a shaky hand.

“What’s going on?” Gary asked after looking from Micki to Gabe.

Gabe stopped at the door of the second bedroom, drawing the attention of the guys in the common area. “My father and his wife were killed in a plane crash.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry, Gabe.”

Gabe caught up with Micki before she exited the bus. Someone turned down the music and the band waited in silence. He never talked about his nonexistent family or much about his personal life, so this was all news to them. The world only knew about the messy split between exciting new star Gabe McKenna and his wife and manager Andrea Rose less than a year after they’d eloped, but even the guys didn’t know all the facts. He wanted to keep it that way.

“Michaela, wait.” She paused and turned to him with fresh tears drowning her eyes. “Do you know if they ever made any kind of arrangements for Jesse?”

“I don’t know.” The quiver in Micki’s soft Texas drawl gave away her fear. She shuffled her keys in her hand and looked down at them. “What will happen to him if they didn’t? He’s just a little boy.”

“The state will give custody to your mom. She’s his grandmother.”

“But Momma’s not Frankie’s real mother and besides, she isn’t healthy enough to take care of Jesse. What will happen to the ranch? Do you know if Sam left it to you?”

Gabe snorted and looked past her into the night and the glaring lights of the parking lot. “You have to be kidding. Dad told me he’d never leave the ranch or the business to me. It’s supposed to go to your sister in the event...” He stopped and met Micki’s searching gaze. “I guess it will depend on what Dad’s will says about such things. My guess is it will be sold and the money will go into a trust fund for Jesse.”

He didn’t miss the shiver that quaked through Micki’s athletic body or the rounding of her eyes. She and her mother lived on the Lazy M Ranch. If the place were sold, they’d have nowhere to go.

But before she could comment, Gary broke in. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.” He looked at Micki. “Gabe will give you a call when he gets the chance.”

With a tip of her hat brim, she exited the bus, crossed the empty parking lot to an old pickup truck, and climbed in. There had been a time he’d loved Michaela Finn, but she hadn’t loved him enough to believe in his dreams.

The guys passed by him, patting him on his shoulder and offering their condolences as they headed to their own bus for the night. Jessica hugged him and tears brimmed in her eyes. The party was over.

He stepped down to where the driver and Gary were talking. “I’m not going to Omaha.”

Gary turned to face him. “What are you going to do?”

The last thing he’d ever wanted to. He didn’t care what happened to his father or the ranch, but Jesse was his responsibility. “I’m going back to Texas to take care of my little brother.”

Micki stopped on the county road and stared at the wood arch over the entrance of the driveway.
Lazy M Cattle Ranch
was painted in black. The five-hundred acres in Brown County were the only home she had ever known, and soon she and her mother would have to leave. Her sister and her sister’s husband--her employers--her family--were dead, and seeing Gabe McKenna last night hadn’t helped her poor, battered heart.

The day was too beautiful for all this angst, but she couldn’t stop the tightening in her chest or the desire to curl up in a ball somewhere.

Sucking in a hot, dry breath of the air blowing through the open windows, she hit the gas and turned onto the gravel driveway. A few of the colts in the pasture noticed and kept pace with her for a few hundred feet until they came to the rail fence dividing the pasture.

At the fork, about halfway down, she took a right. To the left was the main house. Without looking at the white clapboard two-story where Sam and Frankie had lived, she sped away, leaving the house in a cloud of dust.

Micki stopped the pickup in front of the cottage where she and her mother lived. The barn and training arena were set off to the left of the cottage, the bunkhouse and her office to the right. Three of the ranch hands stood on the porch of the bunkhouse. She got out of the truck and shut the door. With a lift of her hand, she returned their waves, but ignored their questioning gazes.

Birds chirped in the pecan trees surrounding the house, and knobby red apples hung on the snarled trees in the old orchard between the cottage and the main house. In the pasture, horses grazed on the breeze-swept grass. Although she couldn’t see them, two hundred cattle grazed on the grassland beyond the horse pasture.

All so normal.

When her gelding, Beau, trotted to the corral rails, she almost gave into the temptation to climb over the fence, hop on the bay’s bare back, and take off for parts unknown.

The sound of the screen door opening and the soft whirl of an electric motor wrenched a sigh from her. She headed around the Silverado. A sad smile tugged on her lips at Jesse standing beside her mother’s wheelchair.

“Aunt Micki!”

She bypassed the wheelchair ramp and took the steps two at a time. “Hey, squirt.” She ruffled the boy’s dark hair and avoided looking in his deep blue eyes.

“Did you see him?”

With a nod, she hugged him close. “Yeah, I found him in Kansas City.”

He swallowed, stepped back, and glanced at his feet. “He ain’t coming home, is he?”

She fought the urge to correct his bad grammar and tugged him to her again, holding his head to her chest. God, she’d do anything to take away his pain. “He’ll be here, Jesse.”

“Gabe never liked me.”

His quiet words stabbed at her heart. They weren’t true, but Gabe’s no-showing until the funeral would hurt Jesse. Gabe never came home much, but from what Frankie had told her, he called and Skyped Jesse often, and he never forgot his birthday or Christmas. Pulling back, she held him and met his gaze. “That’s not true, and you know it. But Gabe also has commitments.”

“Our dad’s dead. That should mean somethin’.” He stepped out of her embrace and ran down the stairs.

“Jesse…”

But he was already past her truck and headed for the orchard where he’d discovered Gabe’s old clubhouse. She took a step to follow him, but her mother’s voice stopped her.

“Let him go, Micki. He’s in a world of hurt.”

She met her mother’s puffy, bloodshot eyes. The constant pain Momma was in and the ravages of disease had etched deep lines on a face that had once been beautiful. “You okay, Momma?”

Loretta Finn folded hands as crooked as the apple trees in the lap of her useless legs. She nodded, her chin-length gray hair brushing the collar of her plaid housedress. “I’m fine. So, what did Gabe have to say?”

“I’m to call when the arrangements are done.”

Her mother sighed. “Sam and Frankie hurt him a lot, but I hope he remembers Jesse needs him.”

Micki shifted into a chair on the porch and changed the subject. “Did Cash take care of the horses?”

Momma turned her chair around to face Micki and a shadow of a smile twisted her pale lips. “Of course he did. Cash is sweet on you.”

“He’s also almost ten years younger than me.” Micki looked out past the potted geraniums and the blooming peace roses to the orchard. She didn’t want to talk about the crush twenty-two-year-old Cash Nelson had on her.

“It’s only eight years. Cash comes from a good family and just got a teaching job. Besides, he’s still working on the ranch. He’d make--”

“Momma, stop right there. I’m not getting married, and I’m definitely not marrying Cash Nelson. I’m not a cougar.”