Where There's Smoke (36 page)

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at judging people. Oh look, the band is setting up.”

She turned toward the stage.

“It’s a shame, though.”

“What’s a shame?”

“The singer got laryngitis. Called in sick, and on opening night, too.”

She quickly became very interested in stirring what looked like snow around in her glass with the straw.

“They say your first night will make or break you in this town. The owners seem really nice, too. One of them sold his bar in Texas and sank all his money into this place. Sometimes it’s hard to have dreams that never happen.”

Guilt rushed through her. She quickly cleared her mind. It wasn’t her problem. “But there seem to be a lot of people here.”

He shook his head. “Won’t last long, though. As soon as they figure out there’s no singer, they’ll leave for the next place quick enough. Hell, the owners are out lookin’ for someone who can take her place.”

“Maybe they’ll find another singer.”

“They haven’t so far.” He held up a cell phone. “Said they would call if they had any luck.”

LeAnn knew all about dreams, and dreams not coming true. And maybe the bar owner from Texas made her think about Duncan. Yeah, right, as if she did anything else since the day she and her manager had left for Nashville.

Oh, what the hell. “I’ll sing,” she blurted before she could change her mind.

Tony studied her. “Can you really sing?”

Laughter bubbled out of her. “That’s what they tell me.” She pulled off her hat and shook out her blond curls.

Tony’s eyes grew round. “You’re… you’re…” His face turned red and he began to choke.

Oh gosh, she didn’t mean to kill the poor guy. She pushed her drink toward him. He automatically took it and gulped down a big swallow.

He grabbed his neck.

“What?” Ohmigosh, was he allergic to her drink?

“Cold throat,” he gasped, eyes watering. “You’d really sing? I mean here? Tonight? Right now?” he finally managed to get out.

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. “Can I introduce you?”

She nodded again and he grinned as if he’d won the lottery. He practically ran to the stage. She took off her coat and laid it across the stool, then followed. Oh Lord, what had she gotten herself into?

“It’s my pleasure,” Tony said as he grabbed the microphone, “to introduce one of my favorite new singers, and she’s going to sing for us here tonight. Miss LeAnn Wells.”

The crowd jumped to their feet, applauding.

LeAnn smiled as she took the microphone. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony blushed and stumbled off the stage.

She turned to the band that was on the stage. “Do you know ‘My Hero’?”

The guitar player grinned. “Do we?” He began to strum his guitar.

“My brother was my hero. I wrote this song for him.” She began to hum softly.

LeAnn lost herself in the song that became her first number one hit and, when she ended on the last note, she looked around the crowd and smiled tenderly. What would her brother think if he could see her now? She had a feeling he would be proud of her. Except nothing happened. The people stared at her. Everyone was so quiet that for a moment, LeAnn wondered if maybe she should’ve stayed in her room channel surfing. Just her and the remote.

But then the crowd erupted and they began to clap. She breathed a sigh of relief then glanced up and smiled.
Well, what do you know, they liked us, Brother.

“Sing ‘Lost Love,’” someone yelled.

“Lost Love” was her newest number one hit. She looked at the band and they nodded, grinning from ear to ear. As they began to play softly in the background, LeAnn began to talk again.

“Sometimes we meet someone just in passing, but they leave a mark on our lives forever. I’ve been lucky to have known a few people like that in my life. My brother, of course. Then there was Destiny. Destiny was, well, I like to think she changed
my
destiny.” She smiled before continuing. “But there was one person who swept in like a warm breeze that blows across the land, and when it’s gone, we look around and wonder if we only imagined it, and wonder if we’ll ever find it again.”

LeAnn began to hum. She closed her eyes, and started to sing as though she sang to her lost love, and in fact she did.

Like the sound of the midnight train

As it fades into the night.

Her voice was soft at first, then grew stronger.

Like an eagle floating on the wind

Slowly drifting out of sight.

A love of long ago

Leaves a picture in my mind

One that will never fade

With the passing of the time

Visions filled her mind. That first look they’d shared. The instant when she felt the spark flowing between them. His startled expression as though he felt it, too.

Duncan encouraging her up on the stage, introducing her like she was already a star. Destiny thought she trembled because she was so scared, and she was, but Duncan had caused her to tremble too. One look and she felt such an intense connection.

She went back to that bar on skid row, only to find Duncan had sold it. A preacher on a street corner said the owner left, but he didn’t know where. Then he told her how he saw demons. That he was saved from the bottle.

LeAnn was happy for the man, but she left quickly. The guy was really strange.

And Duncan became her lost love.

She finished the song, the last mournful note ending. Sadness welled inside her. It would seem she had lost everyone she ever loved or could have loved. She opened her eyes and smiled at the crowd.

Her gaze skidded to a stop on one man. She held up her hand and the band stopped playing.

“I said you would be a star one day,” Duncan told her.

The audience grew quiet, waiting to see what would happen. When Duncan continued toward the stage, they parted like the Red Sea.

The crowded bar seemed to disappear until LeAnn felt as though it was only the two of them. “Everything happened so fast.”

“I know.”

“I went back. You were gone. The bar was sold.”

“I came here looking for you,” he told her as he climbed the steps to the stage. “You’re famous now. I wasn’t sure I’d fit into your new life, but I had to find out.”

She shook her head. “I wrote that song for you.”

“Am I your lost love?” He stopped in front of her.

She shook her head as her heart swelled until she thought it would burst.

His shoulders slumped.

“You’re not my lost love. You’re my found love.” She threw her arms around his neck. As his lips met hers, the crowd of people began to clap and cheer.

***

“Is that better?” Chance asked as he waved his arm and the screen disappeared.

Destiny nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I love happy endings.” She sniffed as she went into Chance’s arms and wrapped her arms around his neck.

God, he loved this woman. She was the very air he breathed, and he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d lost her.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he told her. “If you did, I would die.”

She rested her head against his chest. “As I would die if you ever left me.”

“For all eternity,” he said.

“For all eternity,” she repeated.

Their vows slipped through the apartment and out to the balcony. The light breeze caught their words and whisked them upward, as far as the heavens above.

by Karen Kelley

Coming September 2012

From Sourcebooks Casablanca

“Please Lord, you have to send me a miracle. A man, in case you want specifics.”

Haley Tillman really needed to get laid before she incinerated. If a man looked cross-eyed at her, the only thing left would be a pile of smoking ashes.

Just one little bitty miracle. Was that too much to ask?

She was thoughtful for a moment, then decided she’d better revise her prayer. Once, she’d prayed for a stuffed bunny rabbit. The next day her dad took her to the taxidermist to pick up Fifi, the family dog that died two weeks before, or as Haley preferred to call the beast when no one was around, The Tasmanian Terror. The mongrel was more her mother’s pet. Her father had the miniscule creature from
The
Twilight Zone
stuffed.

There was also a sale on stuffed rabbits. She hated the glass-eyed, zombie rabbit and hid the nasty looking nightmare in the back of her closet. There was no escape from Fifi, though. Her mother placed the silent menace in the living room where everyone could see the dog.

So, a prayer revision might be in order. “Not just any man. I want a really hot, drool-worthy, sexy man.” That still wasn’t good enough. “No, he has to be more than a normal man. He has to stand above mere mortals. No more dweebs, losers or rejects.” She figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask for the best.

And no more crying jags like the one last night just because she got stood up. She threw the cover back, and grabbed her black-rimmed glasses off the nightstand before heading toward the bathroom.

A miracle would be nice. She snorted. As if a miracle was ever going to happen. She was pretty sure hot and sexy would never make it to her front door. Her
almost
date wasn’t drool worthy. She supposed Ben wasn’t bad looking, in a
GQ
, polished sort of way.

Haley sighed. Being stood up was nothing new. Anyone with any sense would be used to it by now, but not her. Okay, so maybe she sort of expected it because she’d cornered him. She did not wear desperation well.

“Ben could’ve said no,” she mumbled as she walked inside the bathroom and flipped on the light. Her co-worker from the bank owed her. Haley worked all week crunching numbers for him.

She casually glanced toward the mirror and saw an apparition.

Her pulse took off and her heart pounded inside her chest. She stumbled back, her knees hitting the back of the bathtub. Before she toppled inside, she slapped a hand on the toilet seat and regained her balance.

As her pulse slowed to a more normal rate, her gaze scanned the tiny room. She was the only one there. She came to her feet, nerves stretched taut.

Please don’t be the ghost of Nanny.

Haley loved Nanny, but her grandmother was gone, and though she had lots of fond memories, Haley wanted her to stay gone. Haley’s eyes stopped at the mirror. Her reflection stared back. Fantastic, she’d scared herself. It had to be an all-time low.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. Mornings were not good. She should drape black silk over her mirrors until she at least had her first pot of coffee. Not that she was monstrously hideous, but she was no beauty queen, either.

She had her father’s looks. Her father was tall. She was five feet, seven inches. She also had her father’s dull, dishwater blond hair. Her hair turned bright orange when she attempted to color it in the eighth grade. She decided dull blond was better. Her boobs were too big, but they matched her hips.

All the magazines she read said you had to like at least one thing about yourself. Her legs were nice and long. When she wasn’t tripping over her feet, she was fairly satisfied with them. Except her life was never going to change. And miracles? She stopped believing in miracles long ago.

She brushed her teeth, then dragged a comb through her tangled hair so it didn’t look quite so much like a rat’s nest.

There was a half gallon of ice cream in the kitchen freezer. It wouldn’t be too difficult to eat herself into sugar oblivion. She could bring new meaning to the phrase,
death by chocolate
. What would her sister say? Rachael never, absolutely never, let sugar cross her lips, and she always said Haley was killing herself.

The buzz from her doorbell blasted through the tiny, two bedroom house that she inherited from Nanny, effectively drawing her away from her dreary thoughts. Bummer. She’d already begun planning her funeral. She sighed. It was way too early for doorbells.

She grabbed her faded, pink terry-cloth robe off the hook on the door and pulled it on over her green froggy flannel pajamas. Once she stood at the front door, she peered through the peephole her father installed for safety, as if anyone would ever break into her house. What would they steal? Her hand-me-down furniture?

She blinked. No one there. Were they hiding?

Hmm, serial killer lurking outside her door? Would that count as a date? Nope, they didn’t have murders in Hattersville. Nothing, absolutely nothing, ever happened in the small town. She shook her head and opened the door a crack, making sure the chain was secure.