Her Hometown Secret
Autore
LeAnne Bristow
Letto da
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Capitoli
21
CHAPTER ONE
EMILY BECK LEANED back in her chair and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was too quiet. Even though her tiny office was in the back corner of the hardware store, she could usually hear her grandfather piddling around out front. And she hadn’t heard a peep from her eleven-month-old son since she put him down for a nap. That was over an hour ago. What worried her most was that she hadn’t been interrupted by her grandfather at least a half dozen times.
She pushed away from the desk and walked to the doorway to look out at the store. Her grandfather wasn’t sitting on his stool behind the counter. The cowbells hanging on the entrance door hadn’t rung all morning, so she knew he wasn’t busy with a customer. They hadn’t had a customer since reopening after New Year’s. Of course, colder-than-average temperatures kept most people at home. The streets were pretty clear, but few people actually lived in town. If she didn’t live just down the street, she wouldn’t risk driving on the icy mountain roads, either.
Only one side of the store was lit up by the bright fluorescent ceiling lights. The other side was dark and empty. The sight was gloomy, but she understood her grandfather’s reasoning. It was senseless to keep the entire space lit up when most of the inventory fit inside the smaller area.
Emily pressed her lips together and sighed. It was hard to see the business her grandparents had poured their heart and soul into slowly failing. Coronado had never been a booming community, but for over forty years, business had been steady. But the last five years had been hard on all the businesses left in the small town. Customers could find and order things faster online and often for less money than local shops could sell them for.
She walked down the center aisle, toward the front of the store, her eyes scanning the side aisles for her grandfather. Where could he be? He hadn’t left the store. She walked back toward her office when she heard a noise from the room next door. She tiptoed to the door and peeked inside.
Her grandfather was holding her son. The baby’s arms were wrapped around his neck as the old man swayed back and forth, one hand supporting the baby’s diapered bottom, the other hand patting his back. Her grandfather’s crackly voice sang in a soft tone, “‘Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Granddad’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.’”
Emily’s throat tightened. That was the song her grandmother had sung to her when she was little and couldn’t sleep. She could still feel Granny’s rough hand patting her back as she crooned to her.
It felt odd to use this room as Wyatt’s nursery away from home. Once upon a time, the space had been used as a workshop for her grandfather’s projects. He would spend hours building or fixing things for customers. Now his hands were too gnarled from arthritis to do the projects he used to love.
The workshop had been cleaned out long ago and used for storage. When she’d started helping him in the store last summer, he’d converted the room to a nursery and playroom for Wyatt. He’d started on it before she’d even begun working for him. It was a gesture that still made her emotional. Almost as emotional as the scene she watched now.
Wyatt lifted his head and patted the old man’s face. Granddad caught the baby’s hand in his mouth and pretended to eat it, which sent Wyatt into a fit of giggles. Granddad’s face lit up and he blew raspberries against the baby’s chubby cheek. The bond that had formed between the two was something she never would have anticipated but for which she would be eternally grateful.
After Granny had died, Granddad had shut himself off from the world. Running the hardware store was the only thing that had gotten him out of the house. And even then he was only a shell of his former self. He’d become a cranky, bitter old man who didn’t want anyone around, especially her. But Emily had made a promise to her grandmother, and she’d refused to walk away, even though he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he would like her to.
The first time he’d held Wyatt, his world had seemed to shift. Suddenly he had something to live for again. He started eating better, paying closer attention to his health, and began attending church and community functions again. Maybe he realized that he was the only male figure Wyatt had in his life, so he wanted to stick around for as long as possible. Whatever it was, Emily loved that her grandfather was almost back to his old self.
She leaned against the door frame and watched them play. A few moments later, her grandfather caught her eye. He shifted the baby to his hip. “Are you done already?”
“Not even close,” she said. “Some of the numbers aren’t matching up. I want to double-check the ledger.”
He nodded, and she stepped back as he walked past her toward the counter. She held her hands out toward Wyatt, but he buried his face in her grandfather’s neck. Her grandfather grinned.
He sat Wyatt on the edge of the counter and held him in place with one hand while he reached under the first shelf and retrieved the black notebook that held every transaction he had made. Scooping Wyatt off the counter, he handed it to her with a frown. “I may have forgotten to put a few purchases in the computer.”
Emily sighed. Of course he had. But after almost fifty years of writing everything down in his ledger, she couldn’t expect him to switch his entire system overnight. “It’s okay,” she said as she took the book from him. “As long as you have them in here.”
The bells on the front door rang, and Emily and her grandfather exchanged a hopeful glance. They both turned to look at the doorway at the same time. Her best friend stomped mud and snow off her boots at the entrance. When Abbie’s husband entered a few moments later, Emily’s stomach dropped.
She nodded at her son. “Grandpa, why don’t you take Wyatt to the playroom?”
He gave her an odd look but obliged by taking Wyatt to the back room. Emily willed her heart rate to slow down and greeted her friend with a smile. “Hi, Abbie. What brings you to town?”
“We needed to go grocery shopping in Springerville, and I wanted to stop by and see how everything was running.”
It wasn’t an unusual comment. After all, Abbie was the one who had set up the computer program for the store and trained Emily how to use the software.
“If I could get Granddad to remember to enter everything in the computer, it would go a lot better,” Emily joked.
Abbie shrugged. “Sorry, my expertise is software. I don’t think I can change fifty-year-old habits.”
“Me, neither.” She glanced back at the nursery. “If you’re heading to Springerville, you better get going. It might snow again later, and you don’t want to get home too late.”
“We already went,” Abbie said. “I’m at your disposal for the rest of the afternoon.”
Normally, Emily would jump at the chance to spend a few hours with her friend. All the snowfall hampered traveling back and forth on the road to the Double S Ranch, and they hadn’t seen each other for several weeks. But it was hard to relax with Abbie’s husband standing there.
“That’s great!” She glanced at Noah. “Thanks for dropping her off for a while.”
He gave her a crooked smile, one that looked all too familiar. “Sorry. You’re stuck with me, too.”
“Oh.” Panic clawed at her chest. She glanced at the nursery again. Noah hadn’t seen Wyatt for several months. Since then, Wyatt’s resemblance to his father had gotten more noticeable.
Abbie laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s got a list of questions for your grandpa, so he’ll stay out of our hair.”
Noah glanced over Emily’s shoulder. “Where is Denny?”
Her brow furrowed. “He’s in the back. I’ll get him.”
If she took Wyatt into the office with her, Noah would be so busy with her grandfather, he wouldn’t have time to notice her son. She turned toward the nursery.
“That’s okay,” Noah said. “I’ll find him.”
When he stepped past the counter, her heart rate sped up another notch. Before she could beat him to the nursery door, Granddad stepped out of the room and she let out a sigh of relief.
Her grandfather gave her a sheepish grin. “I think the baby needs to be changed.”
Never had Emily been so grateful for the fact that her grandfather refused to change a dirty diaper. “Okay. Noah was just looking for you.”
She stepped inside the nursery and closed the door behind her. Leaning against the wall, she took a deep breath and willed her heart to slow down. Until Noah was out of the store, she wouldn’t be able to relax.
Her mind raced. When Abbie was here, they usually stayed in her office. It was much too small for Noah and her grandfather to join them, so as long as she stayed in her office, she was probably safe. With the plan formulated, she turned her attention to her son.
“Hey, little man.” She scooped him up from the playpen. Odd. Wyatt didn’t smell dirty. She lifted the baby up and sniffed.
She turned him around and pulled the back of his pants out so she could peek. Nope. She blew a raspberry on his cheek. “You must have the toots.”
Wyatt wrapped his chubby fingers in her hair and giggled, showing off deep dimples identical to his father’s. Emily rested her forehead against his. How long could she hide her son from the Sterling family? The better question was, why did she feel like she needed to? Who was she really protecting?
Steeling herself, she opened the door.
Her grandfather sat at the counter, flipping through a magazine. His blue eyes looked up at her. “They’re gone.”
“What?” She frowned. “Why?”
“I told them I was closing the store early today because you and I have an appointment.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your appointment isn’t until Monday. Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel fine,” he said. “I didn’t say it was a doctor appointment.”
Her chest tightened. “Then what is it?” Other than his arthritic hands, her grandfather rarely complained. How had she not known something was wrong?
“This is a different kind of appointment.” He gave her a serious look. “It’s more of a come-to-Jesus meeting.”
Emily swallowed. “You knew Wyatt didn’t need his diaper changed.”
He nodded. “When you told me you were pregnant, I kept my mouth shut because you’re a grown woman and your private life is your own. But I love that boy more than anything, and he deserves to have a father.”
She bit her tongue. He remembered things a little differently than she did. He didn’t speak to her for months after he found out she was pregnant. All because she refused to tell him or anyone else who the baby’s father was. Wyatt was six months old before Granddad started speaking to her again. But since he’d let Wyatt into his life, his world had centered around the baby.
“I can understand why you’re keeping it a secret, with Abbie being your friend and all.” Her grandfather put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “But that all happened before she moved here.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”
He pointed at Wyatt. “When are you gonna tell Noah he has a son?”
“Noah?” Emily gasped. “Noah’s not Wyatt’s father! Why would you think that?”
Granddad crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Wyatt’s got the same cleft chin, the same dimples and the same dark brown eyes as the Sterlings. Aside from that, you get all uptight and nervous every time Noah is around.”
She shook her head. If her grandfather thought that, how long would it be before other people did, too? “Noah’s not his father, Granddad. Luke is.”
“Luke?” His eyes widened. “Now, that makes a lot more sense. His dimples are a lot deeper than Noah’s. Regardless, don’t you think it’s time he knew?”
“He does know.” Emily lifted her chin. “He’s known since before Wyatt was born.”
“And he ran off to Nashville anyway?” Anger flashed in his eyes.
She swallowed. “No. It happened the night before he left. I didn’t know I was pregnant until six weeks later.”
His bushy white eyebrows drew together. “Well, I know you didn’t go to Nashville to talk to him. So, how did you tell him? I hope it wasn’t with one of those text messages your generation likes so much. You told him in person, right?”
“I tried. But he was always too busy to talk.” She didn’t know if Luke had been telling the truth or trying to avoid her. It didn’t matter anyway. “When I couldn’t keep him on the phone, I resorted to the messaging system of your generation. I wrote him a letter.”
“And you’re sure he got it?” He looked skeptical.
“Oh yes. I’m sure.” She pressed a kiss to Wyatt’s head. “He never responded. And he never told his family, either. That’s why I get nervous around Noah. One day he’s going to look at Wyatt and notice the resemblance, and I’m not sure what to say.”
“You just tell the truth, darlin’,” Granddad said. “You hold your head up high. It’s Luke Sterling who ought to be ashamed of himself.”
LUKE STERLING TURNED his bar stool away from the bar and scanned the crowd. He didn’t normally hang out at a bar unless he was playing. Of all the bars he’d performed at in Nashville, he liked this one the best. It was a small country-and-western bar on the outskirts of Nashville, so it wasn’t as rowdy as some of the ones closer to Broadway.
Last night, after he’d finished his set, Kain, the bartender, gave him a message from his old roommate. He was looking forward to seeing Quint after almost a year.
He glanced at his watch. Quint’s band was scheduled to play in an hour, so he had to get there soon. If Quint didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t have time to talk until after Quint was done playing, and there was no way he was hanging out at the bar that long. Not that he had anyplace else to be, but the bars in Nashville had a totally different flavor than the tavern back home in Coronado, Arizona.
The Watering Hole was the place to relax after a long day of work, play pool with your buddies, listen to some good music and have a few drinks. The bars in Nashville weren’t nearly as laid-back. It seemed like everything was a competition. Whether it was how they dressed, how they moved on the dance floor or how they drank, everyone wanted to outdo everyone else.
A curvy brunette slid into the empty seat next to him.
“Hi there, cowboy.” She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Didn’t I see you onstage last night?”
He took a drink of his soda and nodded without looking at her.
“You’re good.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and leaned against the bar.
Luke kept his eyes on the door. “Thank you.”
She nudged him. “Buy me a beer?”
“I’m not your type.”
She laughed. “How do you know?”
“I have a girlfriend.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He pushed his Stetson hat back and looked her in the eye. “That answer is exactly why I’m not your type.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your loss,” she said before tossing her hair back and disappearing into the crowd.
He let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the bar and signaled to Kain. Yep. This was definitely not his scene. The only time he liked being at the bar was when he was performing. Any other time, he steered clear. The music was too loud. There were too many people. And the performers weren’t the only ones putting on a show.
Kain slid another soda to him. “Girlfriend?”
“What?” Luke gave him a look of fake innocence. “I could have a girlfriend.”
“But you don’t.”
An image of Emily flashed in Luke’s mind. She wasn’t his girlfriend, so why did memories of her intrude on every date he’d attempted to go on in the past year? Because she should have been. He’d messed that up, though. She’d called him a few times after he’d moved to Nashville, but he either avoided the call or told her he was busy and would call her later. He never did. Not because he didn’t want to talk to her. He did. Too much.
If he allowed himself the luxury of a long conversation with Emily, he would be back in his truck headed for Arizona before the phone call ended. He missed her, but there was nothing for him in Arizona. He swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat every time he thought of her. How long did she wait after he left to find someone else?
A familiar face entered the bar. Luke stood up. “Quint’s here. I’m going to leave as soon as I’m done. Have a good night.”
“Maybe you do have a secret girlfriend. I’ve never seen anyone turn down as many dates as you do.” Kain shook his head. “And you’re going home early. That’s just wrong.”
Luke shrugged. “I have to work in the morning.”
He scanned the crowd, looking for the man who’d just walked in. Quint spotted him and wove through the people to get to him.
“Hey, stranger.” Luke reached out to shake the man’s hand.
Quint ignored his hand and pulled Luke in for a hug. “Good to see you, man!”
Luke followed him to an empty table close to the stage. “How was the tour?”
Quint leaned his guitar case against the table. For the next ten minutes, he barely stopped talking long enough to catch his breath. Luke didn’t mind. If he’d just returned from a cross-country tour, he’d talk about it to anyone who’d listen, too.
Quint finally paused long enough to take a drink of the beer Kain had sent over to him. “I’m really sorry about the apartment.”
Luke shook his head. “It’s okay. It was your cousin’s apartment, and he wasn’t obligated to let me stay there after you left.”
“I still feel bad about how it played out. You were living in your truck when we met. Please tell me you found a place.”
“Yeah, I got a place not too far from the airport.”
“I see that you still play here. Where else do you play?”
“Here and there. Every other weekend I play with Gil’s band, and my agent is pitching some of my songs.”
“That’s not much.” Quint frowned. “How do you manage to pay the bills?”
“I work for Schecter’s Heating and Cooling.” It wasn’t as exciting as touring with a band, but Luke was proud of his job.
“That’s rough, man. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Luke said. “I love my job, and my boss gives me time off when I need to meet with my agent or go to a gig. And it pays a lot more than playing part-time with a band.”
Quint looked skeptical. “Part-time musicians never make it. You gotta get more aggressive.”
Luke grinned. “I like not having to live in my truck. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. And if it doesn’t, I’m okay with that, too.”
“So you’ve given up.” Quint shook his head. “I’ve heard your songs. You’ve got a gift.”
“I appreciate that. My agent likes my songs, too, which is why he hasn’t canned me yet.” He waved at a passing waitress and asked for a water bottle. “Thanks for letting me know you were back in town. Here’s my new number. Give me a call sometime, and we’ll catch up.”
Quint nodded to someone at the back of the bar. “Yeah, I better go help set up.”
Luke stood up to leave, but Quint stopped him. “Wait. I have some stuff of yours.”
He waited while Quint opened his guitar case. He pulled out a stack of letters. “My cousin didn’t have your forwarding address, so he just put them on my dresser. I found them when I got home last week.”
“Thanks.” Luke doubted there was anything important in the mail that was over a year old.
He weaved his way through the crowd and exited the building. It was still early, but the parking lot was already full. He twirled his keys on his finger as he made his way to where he’d parked. A car moved slowly behind him, following him all the way to his pickup truck. The driver probably wanted to snag his parking space as soon as he could pull out. Sure enough, the car stopped when he got into the cab of the truck.
Another vehicle approaching the opposite direction stopped as well. Luke shook his head. Both drivers were waiting for the opportunity to claim his spot. The person who got it would depend on which direction he turned when he backed out.
He tossed the mail onto the seat and started the engine. Both drivers watched him patiently. How long would the two of them wait if he just sat in his truck? If either had honked or yelled something through their window at him, the decision would’ve been easy. That would be the driver who didn’t get his coveted spot.
Luke glanced at both drivers. His truck was in the last row between the parking lot and the street. The traffic wasn’t too bad, especially on a Thursday night. In another few hours, it was likely to be bumper-to-bumper.
He put the truck into four-wheel drive and surprised both drivers. Instead of backing out, he drove straight over the curb, across the sidewalk and onto the street. He didn’t glance back to see who won the race to the empty spot.
It took almost a half hour to get back to his apartment. Thanks to his job with Schecter’s, he was able to afford a decent apartment in a good neighborhood. It wasn’t in the heart of Nashville, but that was fine with him. He’d grown up on a ranch, and while he had no desire to be a rancher like his brother, he wasn’t fond of city life.
Maybe Quint was right. Maybe he needed to get more proactive about his music career. For the most part, he let his agent book his gigs. He’d become complacent. He enjoyed his work at the HVAC company but that wasn’t what had brought him to Nashville. It was time to refocus on his career.
He unlocked the door to his place. It wasn’t fancy, but he didn’t require much. He hung his keys on the hook by the door and flipped through the mail Quint had given him. As expected, most of it was junk mail or so outdated it no longer mattered. The bills had all been paid—that was one thing he never fell behind on, whether they came in the mail or not.
A plain white envelope with his name scrawled across the front stopped him cold. The return address was from Coronado, Arizona.
Why had Emily sent him a letter? He swallowed. Was this his Dear John letter? Whatever it said didn’t matter now, not after a year and a half. He dropped the envelope, along with the rest of the mail, into the trash can on his way into the bedroom.
He took off his cowboy hat, changed from his jeans to a pair of pajama pants and picked up his guitar from the corner next to his bed. He went back into the living room and sat on the sofa. His fingers plucked the strings without conscious thought. Music had always been the best counselor, and he chose what to play to match his current mood. He wasn’t playing for an audience. He played for himself.
As he strummed, his eyes drifted to the only picture on his wall, a family photo taken at his mother’s wedding last October. His mother and her new husband beamed at each other, and he and his older brother, Noah, stood on either side of them.
He was glad that his mom had found happiness after all these years. Gerald was a great guy who not only adored his mother but had helped Noah establish some great contacts that had saved their ranch from being foreclosed on.
At the wedding, Luke had met Abbie, Noah’s girlfriend at the time. The two of them had gotten married right after Thanksgiving. Luke’s agent had booked him for several performances for the kickoff to the Christmas season in Nashville, so he wasn’t able to make it to their wedding.
While he felt bad about not getting to be his brother’s best man, he was also relieved he couldn’t go. Abbie’s maid of honor was Emily. The same Emily he had a hard time getting out of his head. The same Emily who had a child with someone else not even a year after he left.
