Heartstrings. Sara Walter Ellwood

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      It was a question he still wondered about.

      A heavy lump settled in the pit of his stomach.

      Dad, will you hate me in death for doing what you denied of my mother? For having dreams that didn’t include you and making them come true?

      He and his father hadn’t had a relationship since he was about ten years old, when John had beat him for sneaking into the barn to play his mother’s old guitar. But before then, his dad had been everything to him.

      The first wave of regret hit him hard as memories of his early childhood fluttered to the surface, such as the Christmas when he was five and his father had given him his first fishing rod.

      “You’ll be sure to catch some big ones with that, son.”

      “Can we go now?”

      “Not yet.” His father ruffled his hair and grinned. “But as soon as spring comes, we’ll go to the lake, and I’ll teach you how to fly fish.”

      “Can Mike come along?”

      John chuckled. “You bet. I think Santa Claus brought him the same thing. And if you’d like, we can bring Abby, too.” He winked and added, “I’m sure we can find a fishin’ rod she can use.”

      “Yahoo!”

      Like the photographs in an album, the snippets of his childhood passed over his mind’s eye. So many things from happier times.

      “It’s my one chance, Dad. Why are you doing this? Ruining my mother’s dreams wasn’t enough, now you have to ruin mine, too? I’m going to Nashville. I’m going to sing in that competition and I’ll win. I’ll get that record deal.”

      “If you leave, don’t bother comin’ back. You won’t be welcome.”

      The bitterness of hateful words yelled in a fit of rage settled upon him. His back hurt with a phantom sting from all the times the belt had hit him. The shotgun his father fired the time he returned after winning the talent competition blasted his ears. The memory album slammed shut, smothering the spark of grief.

      He swallowed the anger and the urge to drive away and never look back.

      He looked up to see Abby watching him. No, he wasn’t going anywhere.

      At least, not until he claimed what his fear of becoming like his mother--washed-up and dead by age twenty-three--had denied him. The one person he’d let Mike talk him out of ever getting to know, by playing on his fears.

      His daughter.

      * * * *

      The old Victorian house on the Double K Ranch was packed with mourners from the funeral. The Ladies’ Auxiliary served beef barbeque sandwiches, baked beans, potato salad, and chocolate cake.

      Abby had no appetite, but she carried her loaded plate out of the dining room with its old over-sized furniture to the wide wraparound porch. Several people milled around in small clusters, holding their plates and doing more talking than eating.

      She smiled and greeted those who talked to her--not that many people did, but she didn’t stop--and continued searching for Seth. She had to find out what he intended to do now that he was back in McAllister.

      “Do you think Seth will stay in town?”

      She stopped and took a deep breath before facing the woman behind her. Tammy Jo had never liked her, but then she’d never quite understood what Mike had ever seen in the spoiled heiress.

      “I doubt it. He’s famous. Nothing in McAllister mattered to him before.” She turned to move away from her ex-husband’s wife.

      “I overheard him talking with his aunt.”

      When Abby looked at her, Tammy Jo smiled and glanced around at the people on the porch. She could barely keep the disdain off her supermodel face. So, she still considered herself better than the rest of them.

      Tammy Jo met her gaze again and her smile widened. “Seth asked her what his father planned for the ranch. Seems to me he’s thinking of moving here. How wonderful that would be. He’s so famous.”

      “Yeah, wonderful,” she muttered. Of course, Tammy Jo would think so, now that Seth Kendall was famous and rich. But there had been a time she wouldn’t have given Seth a second glance.

      Abby looked around again. She hadn’t seen Seth since arriving at the house after leaving the gravesite.

      She’d see about him staying. He had no business here. He’d promised to come back. Oh, he’d come back all right, only to leave again. He hadn’t even wanted to see his baby. Chasing his dreams had been more important. Now, he could just keep on chasing them.

      The numbed part of her heart belonging to Seth Kendall started to beat. The hurt was unbearable at the thought he’d leave her again.

      Which was totally ridiculous. He had to go. His showing up now in Emily’s life would serve no purpose but to devastate her.

      Mike walked up beside her and Tammy Jo. He smiled at his wife and kissed her on the cheek. She rested her hand on her seven-month baby bump and looked up at him with softness in her hazel eyes.

      Mike glanced at Abby and then back to Tammy Jo. Abby’s heart skipped a beat at the answering love he held for his wife in his eyes. He’d never looked upon her like that, but then, neither she nor Mike had ever been in love.

      “Sweetheart, I need to talk to Abby about Emily. Can you go find Miz Kendall and make sure she’s doing okay? She’s taking John’s death hard.”

      Tammy Jo’s smile turned cold. “Of course.” High heels clicked across the porch as she strode into the kitchen.

      The screen door closed with a bang, making Abby cringe. “You know she hates me.”

      Mike swallowed and looked down at his hands. “She thinks you have some hold over me.” He met her gaze before turning away and heading off the porch. “C’mon.”

      She set her plate of untouched food on the wide banister and followed Mike out onto the lawn. They passed Martha Gordon and two of Tammy Jo’s elderly aunts she took care of, as they sat under the trees in the garden eating and chatting. Mike nodded and tipped his hat at the older women.

      “Sheriff Ritter, how you doin’? Getting ready for that baby?” Martha’s smile showed extra bright against her dark brown complexion.

      “I’m doing fine, Miz Gordon. And I can’t wait until Tammy Jo has the baby.” He smiled as they continued walking. “Aunts Edna and Bea. Good to see you ladies out and about.”

      The spinster sisters harrumphed and glared at Abby.

      Martha glanced at the sisters and then back to her. “Good to see you, dear. The nursing home keepin’ you busy these days?”

      She didn’t miss the curiosity in the woman’s words, or the McAllister sisters’ lips compressed into stern lines. “You too, Mrs. Gordon. Yes, I’m picking up some of Darlene Martinez’s hours.”

      “Glad СКАЧАТЬ