His Country Cinderella

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He hesitated, obviously reluctant. After heaving a deep breath, he began, “It was early April. I’d done a bunch of media events in New York and L.A. We’d started a monthlong series of concerts and did a few in the Southwest. Texas concerts are great because I can usually wiggle in time to see my mom and old friends who still live in Midland.”

When he stopped, she could see the shadows in his eyes, the click of memories playing that he’d rather avoid. He shifted on the sofa, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees. “We performed at a venue near Austin. It was an outdoor arena with stadiumlike seats under cover, others close to the stage, not covered. It was an evening show with all the lights and hoopla that can make a concert spectacular. The audience was great. They’d come to enjoy themselves, to sing along, clap, stomp, whatever it took to feel part of the music.”

Jeannette could see Zane was reliving it, maybe feeling the rhythm under his feet, his guitar in his hands, the songs in his head.

“Because it was a night concert, I did the meet and greet beforehand,” he explained. “I met with folks in the fan club, spoke with others who’d won tickets through radio contests, that sort of thing. But I also signed autographs for about an hour before the concert with the general audience. I wanted to get on the road and didn’t want it to go too late afterward.”

She could imagine the crowd, the concertgoers vying for his autograph on hands and T-shirts and CD covers. It had been a long, long time since she’d been at a concert, but she remembered the feel of it, the excitement, the bass vibrating in her chest.

Zane rubbed his palms on his jeans and stared straight ahead. “The audience got more revved up with each song, and we found ourselves doing more than we scheduled, just because we were enjoying it so much. I usually plan two encores, but I think we did five that night. I’ll admit it’s hard for me to leave the stage when the audience is that encouraging. Or at least it was.”

From the tone in Zane’s voice she could tell he felt differently about all of it now.

“Tell me what happened,” she requested gently.

He turned to look at her for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll never forget it, as long as I live.” He paused. “I had a bodyguard who went with me everywhere. Roscoe handled my personal security team. They’re supposed to keep me safe and they always did a terrific job of it. My promoter was in charge of the security force for the concert venue. They’d done a fine job with that large crowd. The concert had gone off without a hitch. The band had already left. Then…”

He stopped. “I’m not sure what happened. My tour bus was parked at the back of the stage. Often a crowd gathers there to catch a glimpse of me leaving. It happens everywhere we go and it’s not unusual. There had never been a problem before. But that night the crowd around the bus suddenly got too large and too close. Roscoe and his team formed a line for me to get to the bus. I was on the first step when I heard and felt the surge, saw the fans break through the guard line. The next thing I knew, someone was down and there was screaming. The 9-1-1 call went out and I still wasn’t sure what had happened. Roscoe shoved me into the bus and I was fighting him to get into the crowd. But he insisted they would tear me apart. I told him I wasn’t leaving until I knew what had happened. We’d called the police to tell them we were circling the venue. As far as I was concerned, this was my concert, my responsibility. I made the calls myself to the chief of police and the nearest hospital, but nobody would tell me anything. During all that, my manager called a lawyer. I didn’t want to talk to him. I wasn’t worried about liability. I was worried about whoever got hurt.”

Jeannette could hear the emotion in Zane’s voice, the rough huskiness that stopped him from telling more.

Finally he shifted on the sofa. His knee grazed hers as he faced her. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. My lawyer has instructed me not to talk about it to anybody, not to go near Ashley’s family or talk to them.”

Jeannette knew Ashley Tuller had been thirteen. This was breaking her heart, imagining what her parents felt…what Zane was feeling. “You don’t know me very well, Zane,” she admitted. “But I can tell you I won’t go to a tabloid and I won’t talk to a reporter. That doesn’t mean you’ll believe me. I think I already understand that Ashley’s death was life-changing for you, so if you don’t want to talk about it more, or can’t, that’s okay.”

“I haven’t talked to anyone about it except for my lawyer. I haven’t even spoken to Dillon or the guys in my band about the details.”

If he hadn’t told his best friend, his closest friends, she doubted he’d tell her. She didn’t know if she should, but she reached out and covered his hand with hers.

The nerve in his jaw jumped. “Ashley had a head injury, severe trauma. She was airlifted to a hospital in Dallas best equipped to deal with that. For three days she was in a coma—three days when her parents didn’t know if she was going to live or die. From what I understand, her older sister was by her side twenty-four hours a day.” He shook his head. “I can’t even imagine their pain. Even if I could talk to them, what would I say? Dillon lost his son and I know what he went through. I just wish—”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish I could do something so I didn’t feel so powerless. I wish they could know I didn’t leave the scene like some of the tabloids reported. Since the family filed a civil suit, everyone around me is telling me to listen to my lawyer. I feel like he’s tied my hands and feet and taped my mouth shut. This isn’t me. I do something when I can. I don’t wait around to see what happens next.”

“You’re waiting for the trial.”

Zane nodded. “It will probably be sometime in December. We haven’t gotten the official date yet.”

“I guess your lawyer’s trying to settle?”

Zane leaned back against the sofa cushions and shook his head. “This isn’t about money. I know that. No amount of money will bring Ashley back. Her parents want someone to pay. And need somebody to blame. I understand. But I don’t think a trial or settlement is going to be the answer.”

Her hand was still covering his. She pulled hers away and put it back in her lap where it belonged. She knew Zane had arrived in May. She’d been cleaning his house and taking him supplies for that long. But she wasn’t completely sure why he’d come. “You came to Thunder Canyon to escape the paparazzi?”

Again he studied her, maybe unsure he could trust her. She could probably earn a bank account full of money if she took his story to any number of magazines. After all, it seemed like former acquaintances of Zane and anyone who had been there that night was doing just that. But no one had the words from his mouth but her.

The thing was, Jeannette knew in her heart that she would never sell Zane’s story to anyone or even talk about it.

Maybe he saw that.

“My lawyer suggested a leave of absence. But I couldn’t have returned to the tour if I’d wanted to. The night this happened, I felt like I’d grown a stone in my chest. That feeling hasn’t gone away. At first I couldn’t think about anything else. All I could think about was Ashley, day and night, and what her family was feeling. Even when her parents started giving interviews, saying it was my fault, I couldn’t be angry with them because I felt it was my fault, in spite of what my lawyer says, or my promoter or my manager or my band. They all have a lot to lose—their livelihood, but also their reputation, which really matters in this business. My bodyguard quit. He felt as guilty as hell. I’ve been with Roscoe since I won my first award. My mother is torn up because I’m torn up. That’s the kind of relationship we’ve always had.”

Jeannette remembered the one headline she’d read: RIFT BETWEEN ZANE GUNTHER AND HIS MOTHER.

“Has this caused problems between you and your mom?”

He gave a twisted smile. “You read the tabloid, huh?”

“No, I just saw the headline.”

“No rift. I call her when I can, so she knows I’m okay. I can’t do it from the mountain. I can’t get a signal till I’m down on the road. I went home once since this happened and photojournalists—” he made quote marks with his fingers “—took advantage of it, so I thought it was better if I stayed away.”

“You really are isolated.”

Quickly, he straightened. “Hey, don’t feel sorry for me. That isn’t why I’m telling you this. I just wanted you to understand what happened, not what the press says happened. Not what the lawyers say happened. Heck, I couldn’t believe you didn’t know who I was. I was grateful and humbled. Maybe I need a little more humbling.”

“Because?”

“Because before all this happened I could have had anything I wanted. I could go anyplace I wanted. I could do whatever I wanted. That’s not how normal people live. I haven’t had a normal life since my first CD took off.” He blew out a breath. “Now I sound like I’m complaining about it. I’m not. I appreciate absolutely everything that’s happened to me. But the truth is, since this happened, I have no music in my head, let alone in my heart. It used to be that a verse would just fly into my thoughts no matter what I was doing, and then the music to match it would play, or vice versa. Now there’s nothing. Just silence. Even when there’s noise all around me, there’s silence in me.”

“I haven’t listened to your music yet,” she admitted. “I borrowed CDs from the library. But if you had the gift of music, something that was with you all the time and followed you everywhere and you could just snatch it when you wanted to, and then suddenly it was gone, I’d want to live on a mountaintop, too. I understand what happens when fate deals a blow that no one expects.” She thought about Ed and his accident and how that had turned her life upside down when she’d least expected it. One day she was planning for the birth of her baby and a wedding, and the next…

“That happened with Jonah’s father?” Zane asked with real concern and interest.

“Yes, it did.”

“But you don’t want to go into that now?”

He had just shared so much with her, and she wanted to tell him about Ed, but—

“It’s late and you’re tired,” he realized. “I probably shouldn’t have come over tonight, but I didn’t want to wait. Too much can happen when you wait.”

Feeling shy and a little awkward, she smiled at him. “I’m glad you came over. I was wondering about so much.”

He looked as if he were about to say something more, maybe ask her something. But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet.

She was afraid this was it. Or maybe relieved this was it. They really had nothing in common. Their lifestyles were worlds apart.

Standing, she followed him to the door. She suddenly wanted to say, Please don’t go. But she had a child, and she was a waitress and she had a life here. He could be gone in a flash, in a helicopter or a private plane or a limo.

At the open door, with his Stetson on now, he gazed down at her with an intense look in his eyes. “I like you, Jeannette. I like you a lot. But I have a complicated life right now and I don’t want anybody else to be tainted by it.”

How could they be? He had done nothing wrong. Yet the world was portraying him as selfish, as just another star who was out for the money and the glory and the fame without caring about his fans. But she could see that wasn’t true at all.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.

“I do. But Jonah and I will have time to go to church first. Edna and Mel like to make a big brunch afterward.”

“Sounds nice.”

She’d love to invite him along, but how crazy would that be? Edna and Mel would have a fit at the thought of any man taking their son’s place in her life. Besides, Zane’s cover would be blown. She could see he needed as much peace as he could get right now.

“You enjoy yourselves. Family is really all we have when the going gets rough.”

He was supposed to be leaving and she was supposed to be saying goodbye. But the magnet of their attraction drew them together until they seemed mesmerized by each other.

When Zane slid his hand under her hair, she felt a cool breeze waft along her cheek. It emphasized the warmth of his hand, her own temperature seeming to rise at his touch. It had taken a few dates with Ed before she’d kissed him. This man she’d kissed before she’d even known him. But then, could last night’s brief touching of lips even be considered a kiss?

“I want a taste of you,” he said huskily as his lips descended closer to hers.

His words sent a rippling thrill through her body until she realized a need that had gone unsatisfied within her for years. When Zane’s lips came down on hers tonight, they weren’t gentle or light. Oh, no. Tonight they were hungry, searching for desire to be fulfilled, searching for a response that might or might not be there.

Her body reacted as if she’d been born to respond to Zane. She enfolded her arms around his neck, and he pulled her in tighter. His tongue slid into her mouth and her gasp of pleasure opened her up more completely to him. He explored with a possessive need that almost made her moan. She felt as if a low-burning fire inside of her burst into flames. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth on hers, his tongue retreating, then urging her on. Pressed against him, she felt his arousal and a satisfaction she had long ago forgotten.

When he withdrew and pulled away, they were both breathing hard. She was still trying to catch her breath when he said, “That was Zane the man who kissed you, not Zane Gunther the country singer.”

Then he let her go and walked away, his steps quick, his stride long. She heard him gallop down the stairs and then his bootfalls faded away.

She knew one thing for certain. If Zane Gunther could sing as well as he kissed, his music would come back to him. She was sure of it.

Chapter Four

“Are you ready?” Jeannette called to Jonah.

Today was Labor Day which was ironic because she’d spent the morning doing household chores. This afternoon she and Jonah were going to the park. This was a rare day off for her and she was going to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with her son.

“Soon,” Jonah called back from his room and she had to smile.

The phone on her kitchen counter rang just as she was about to find out what was keeping him. “Hello,” she answered, not recognizing the number, hoping beyond hope it would be Zane. She’d listened to his CDs last night after Jonah had gone to bed and had been touched by Zane’s voice as well as his heartfelt lyrics. His kiss had taken up most of her waking thoughts and had invaded her dreams. But she wasn’t Cinderella, and she was silly if she believed anything could come of the two of them kissing.