Heartland. Sara Walter Ellwood

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СКАЧАТЬ after buying it when her grandfather died. The whitewashed cabinets with their sand-colored granite countertops, the large windows overlooking the backyard pool, and the acres of pastures dotted with cattle beyond filled the spaces where homesickness swamped her. However, it wasn’t missing her family and her home that caused the restlessness. She missed the music she grew up listening to.

      She met her parents’ expectant gazes. “Right now, my main goal is to raise my baby.”

      “I hate to ask, but…is Fabian the father? I thought you were separated.” Momma’s brows beetled.

      “Unfortunately, yes, he’s her father.” Emily snorted and finished her tea. “We were separated when I got pregnant.” She looked into her cup and considered her words, and decided to be brutally honest. “But we liked getting high together and we liked…” God, how do you tell your parents you like sex? Honesty was greatly overrated at that moment.

      “Sex?” Momma provided.

      Her father let out a breath that may have been a gasp of pain. “Abby… Geez, I got the picture without you narrating it.”

      Nodding, heat rushed to her face, but she trudged on by answering her mother’s question. No way could she look at her father. “He wants nothing to do with the baby. He never wanted kids. Knowing how he felt, I wanted to be free of him as soon as I found out I was pregnant. Not only because he helped me destroy my life--my career--but for the baby. Reese Goodwin expedited my divorce. Fabian agreed to sell the Nashville mansion, but wanted the Manhattan penthouse.”

      She shrugged, remembering the confrontation she had with Fabian yesterday when she’d stopped by his hotel to tell him about the pregnancy. “When I told him about the baby, he raged like a banshee that I’d gotten pregnant on purpose. I simply told him he’d never have to see either one of us again. I think he eventually realized I could have fought for child support during our divorce, but didn’t. Instead, I cut all ties, besides giving him the penthouse, I signed over the rights to the songs we’d written together, both the ones recorded and the few that haven’t been published yet. I don’t want my name professionally connected to his.”

      She sighed and it turned into a yawn.

      “Did you drive all night?” Dad asked.

      She nodded. “Yeah. I’d packed everything up, and then met Fabian at the Marriot yesterday afternoon. After telling him about the baby, I left and headed home.” The jerk had thought she’d wanted to meet with him for drugs and sex despite them now being divorced--until she pushed away his advances to drop her baby bomb.

      Her mother stood. “Let me get your room ready.” She turned to Dad. “Why don’t you bring in her things?”

      “Of course.” He followed to his feet. “You couldn’t have gotten much in that car.”

      She shook her head, and with a tired breath, she stood to lead her father out to the driveway. “No. Gabe is bringing the rest of my stuff. He should be here by the weekend.”

      “Gabe?” Dad paused at the door. Gabe McKenna was her father’s best friend, and she’d long ago started thinking of the fellow country singer as an uncle.

      “When Trish told me he was in town laying down the last tracks for his next record, I gave him a call.” Her manager had once been Gabe’s personal assistant before she became a talent manager with her father-in-law’s firm. The two of them were still good friends. “He was more than willing to drive a rented van back to Texas. I think he was thrilled I was finally getting my head screwed on straight.”

      Dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close after they stepped onto the porch. “You could have called me.”

      “I could have. But Gabe had long ago told me if I needed anything, to call him. Besides, I wanted to surprise you and Momma. I think Gabe wants to talk to you about something.”

      Before she’d left to tell Fabian about the baby, she’d took her last walk through the mansion she’d listed the day after getting out of rehab. She’d contracted a consignment company to sell the furniture after the sale of the estate. Everything else she’d given to charity. Packing up what she’d wanted to bring with her to Texas surprisingly hadn’t taken long.

      Her father hefted the suitcase from the trunk of the car. The rest of her stuff, which consisted of some of her other clothes, her favorite guitars, a banjo she’d taught herself how to play, and all of her awards, were in the van she rented for Gabe to drive to the ranch on his way home in Bluebonnet Creek in Brown County. The trip was out of his way, but he’d refused to accept any payment and seemed more than happy to take on the burden.

      “Gabe is trying to convince me to go in with him and form our own record label.” Her father closed her trunk.

      “Are you thinking about it?”

      As they headed up the walkway to the porch, he said, “I am, but there’s a lot at stake. We’ll have to put a lot of capital into the venture I’m not sure either of us have.”

      “I think it’s a great opportunity. Look what Show Dog Records has done for Toby’s career.”

      “I know there’s money to be made. Thing is I’d hate to leave Midland Records. I’ve been there since they first signed me twenty-two years ago. Paul Calabrese has been good to me and signed a lot of the acts I’ve brought to him. Like you and Gabe,” he said, referring to the president of Midland and another close friend. Paul’s friendship with her father was what probably saved her ass from being dropped like poop from a flock of pigeons when Trish asked for an indefinite extension on her production deadline for her current record.

      He opened the screen door into the kitchen. “I also know where Gabe’s coming from. We’re both getting old.”

      She moved into the kitchen and shook her head. “You’re still making number one records. Gabe is too.”

      “True. But there will come a time when we’ll stop selling out stadiums and stop racing up the charts. There’s a lot of young, hot talent out there.” Grinning, he looked over his shoulder at her as they headed down the hall to the stairs. “I know what it’s like to be upstaged by my opening act. I don’t want that to happen again.”

      She laughed because she’d been that opening act. “What can I say? Sorry I stole your fans.”

      At the painful thought that none of those fans were hers anymore, she lost the smile. People still wanted her autograph, and she couldn’t go anywhere without someone noticing her and making a fuss, but most of her earlier supporters had deserted her. The groupies and media following her now simply wanted a piece of her because she was famous.

      Swallowing, she turned to him at the open door of her old bedroom. “Dad, I think you’d make a wonderful music executive. You have a great ear for talent and you care about what people want to hear.”

      He set her case inside her room, then drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “I love you, sunshine.”

      “I love you, too, Daddy.” She had to swallow the lump forming in her throat as the tears she’d been holding in came rushing back.

      Her mother finished fluffing her pillows and moved in beside them. She took Emily into her arms after Dad stepped away, hugging her close and hoarsely whispering in her ear, “I’m happy you came home. I love you and СКАЧАТЬ