Bright Eyes

  “Why do I love you?” she sang. “Why do I care?” She lifted her gaze above the crowd, singing from her heart, seemingly oblivious to those who listened. “When everything could be so perfect, why, in the dark of night, is my pillow wet with tears? We had it all, but you threw it away.”

  A waitress approached Zeke’s table. He waved away the list of available beverages. “Jack and Coke, please.”

  “Single or double?”

  He had to drive home. “Single.”

  Zeke just wanted the waitress to go away so he could hear Natalie’s song. When he could finally refocus on the words—and the woman singing them—the number was nearly over. When Natalie raised her arm on the last note, he felt almost bereft. His heart sank a little when she bent her head and lowered her right hand to her side. The room went absolutely silent again.

  She stood there for a full second, body motionless, head still bent. No one applauded until she looked up. It was if she had to release them from her spell before they could think or even move.

  Instead of curtsying and nodding to acknowledge the applause, she laid the guitar aside and leaned over her piano player’s shoulder. Together, they went through some sheet music. Then she patted his arm and left the stage, a brilliant flame that drew the gaze of every man in the room. As she headed for a door to the right of the platform, she hesitated midstep and looked directly at Zeke. Her shoulders sank slightly. The pianist began playing something bluesy as she wove her way through the tables.

  Zeke stood and pushed back a chair for her.

  “Hello, Mr. Coulter,” she said softly. “Small world, or has my son vandalized your property again?”

  “What the hell are you doing in Crystal Falls?” Zeke asked. “You should be taking Nashville by storm.”

  The question popped out of his mouth of its own volition. She was a phenomenon with a voice that went beyond fabulous and a stage presence to go with it. She should be captivating thousands, not entertaining a few country bumpkins in a ranching community.

  She sank wearily onto the chair. “Flattery, Mr. Coulter?”

  “Forget flattery. With a voice like that, you could write your own ticket.”

  “My days of chasing rainbows are over, I’m afraid.”

  He didn’t miss the note of resignation in her voice. No bitterness, only flat acceptance. That struck him as being so sad. If only she had made different choices earlier in life, the world could be her oyster. Instead she struggled to keep her daughter in decent shoes.

  She rubbed the nape of her neck and flexed her shoulders. “That guitar weighs a ton toward the end of a shift.”

  Zeke had a feeling that the guitar was the least of her burdens.

  “So what brings you to the Blue Parrot? You don’t strike me as the supper-club type.”

  The waitress returned just then. Zeke accepted his drink and said, “Bring the lady her usual, please, and put it on my tab.”

  “Water,” Natalie said with a flippant smile that Zeke suspected had been practiced to hold admirers at bay. “Charge the gentleman five bucks. He’s loaded.”

  Zeke sat back to regard her. He had stepped on her toes, and she was letting him know right up front that she wouldn’t easily forgive him. He shot from the hip himself and admired that about her.

  She directed her attention to the table, centering the candle, smoothing the cloth. “I talked with Chad this evening. He seems to like you.” She looked back up, her gaze sharper this time. “I have no clue as to why, but that’s my thing. It seems that you were right, and I was wrong. This experience is good for him. Working with you today bolstered his confidence. He needs that right now.”

  His fingers skimming beads of condensation, Zeke turned his glass. “I came here to apologize. Don’t give me an out. I’m notorious for never saying I’m sorry.”

  “I believe you.”

  He gave a startled laugh. “I have that coming, I guess.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “I apologize for making rash assumptions and acting like an ass.”

  Her expression guarded, she continued to study him. “May I ask what brought this about?”

  “Your daughter paid me a visit tonight.”

  Her expression went from guarded to surprised. “Rosie?”

  “Do you have two daughters?”

  “No, thank heavens. One’s a handful. Why was she at your place?”

  “She came to negotiate.” Zeke grinned, remembering. “I am now in possession of her life’s savings, earmarked for a Barbie dune buggy.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes, and she drives one hell of a bargain. I didn’t know whether to shit or go blind.” Zeke winced and glanced around, hoping no one else had heard him. “Pardon my French.”

  “Don’t blame the French. My mother’s maiden name is Devereaux.”

  No wonder she had gorgeous legs. French women were famous for them. “My Irish, then.”

  Her eyes started to twinkle, warming him as they had yesterday afternoon. “Ah. That explains the stubborn streak.”

  Zeke chuckled. “It’s the Scots who are stubborn.”

  “With the Irish running a close second.”

  He conceded the point with a shrug. “I wasn’t quite stubborn enough to come out on top with your daughter.”

  “Few people do. My Rosie is indomitable and too cute for her own good.”

  “True. After she asked why I’m mean and obnoxious, she informed me that Gramps and the cows have nefarious plans for my cabbages. Being a smart man who has no desire whatsoever to get his ass kicked by a geriatric, I quickly agreed to her terms.”

  Natalie’s lovely and very kissable mouth twitched. “Which are?”

  “You and Rosie are welcome to help Chad work off the debt. I don’t want to be responsible for his missing camp and getting brain rot from Valerie’s rap.”

  She burst out laughing. The sound wasn’t quite as magical as her voice in song, but close. “My daughter. She repeats everything she hears.”

  “And quite eloquently, I might add.”

  “I’m sorry she bugged you. Chad’s right, I guess. She can be a pest.”

  “I’m glad she came. Trust a child. I was being mean and obnoxious. I began to realize that this afternoon when I got to know your son a little better.”

  “So you’re coming to like Chad as much as he’s coming to like you?”

  Zeke nodded. “He’s a troubled boy, but not a bad one. I was wrong to take such a hard line, threatening to bring the law into it.” He took a sip of his drink to compose his thoughts. “I also want to apologize for suggesting that you mollycoddle him. Before he left today, I wanted to make things better for him myself.” He picked up a complimentary book of matches, studied the Blue Parrot logo, and then said, “I can see his heart in his eyes, and it’s a broken one. What the hell’s going on with his dad?”

  Her eyes went bright with what he suspected were tears. “Nothing.” The smile that had touched her mouth a moment ago vanished. “When it comes to being a father, Robert isn’t. I can’t think of another way to say it.”

  “I gathered as much.”

  She fiddled with the midnight-blue cloth napkin in front of her. “I sound like a bitter ex-wife. It’s so dead boring to be typical, but I can’t help myself.”

  “You’re concerned about your son. There’s no crime in that.”

  Her brow pleated in a thoughtful frown. “I don’t mean to paint a black picture of Robert. He’s just—well, being Robert. His parents never paid any attention to him, and that’s all he knows.”

  “Don’t make excuses for the bastard.”

  She laughed softly, then puffed air at her bangs, reminding him strongly of Rosie. “There is no excusing Robert. I only meant that it isn’t really his fault. He’s being as good a father to Chad as his father was to him. All too often, we become our parents.”

  Zeke guessed there was a lot of truth in that. He’d been told countless times that he was a Xerox
copy of his dad. “Your son doesn’t think he’s good at anything. When he actually does something without screwing up, he’s amazed.”

  “Robert is a little critical.”

  “A little?”

  “It’s complicated.” For a moment, Zeke thought she would leave it at that. “I think he feels inadequate, actually. He hides it very well. If you met him, you’d never for a second believe that he has self-esteem issues. Robert is one of those people who are smarter than everyone else and better at everything. Sports, academics, business, you name it. Poor Chad never quite measures up.”

  Zeke doubted that Chad had been Robert’s only victim. He had known men like that, and in his experience, they took shots at everyone around them.

  He felt himself becoming lost in Natalie Patterson’s swimming brown eyes and experienced something akin to fear. The lady packed a wallop. Just like her daughter, she tugged at his heartstrings in a way he didn’t understand. He disliked the feeling, and he suddenly just wanted to get out of there.

  He raised one hip to fish for his money clip, then tossed a twenty onto the table. It was more than enough to cover his drink and the five-dollar glass of water. He hoped Natalie would pay his tab and keep the rest. Judging by her daughter’s clothing, she needed the money a lot more than he did.

  “I’ve said what I came to say.” Brilliant, Zeke. “I, um—” His mind went blank. “I have to go.”

  She pushed erect before he could shove back in his chair. “Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Coulter. I appreciate the apology and your change of heart. Chad needs a little leniency right now. Camp is important this year.”

  He stood, nudged the chair back under the table with the toe of his boot, and hooked his thumbs over his belt.

  “Now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I agree with you. He should go. If the damages aren’t worked off in time, I’ll give him a week off and let him work after school.”

  She picked up the twenty, sidled around the table, and moved close to tuck the bill into his shirt pocket. The musky scent of her perfume filled his senses. The warmth of her body, moving a scant inch from his, seared him like a brand. “The drink is on the house.”

  Recalling the duct tape on Rosie’s sandals, Zeke wished she would take the money. Instead he stood there like a dumb cluck and watched her walk away. Or, to be more precise, he watched the sway of her hips. Natalie Patterson was not a thin woman. Her body was soft and well rounded in all the right places.

  Not a mere flame, he decided, but a wildfire, and only a fool would get burned.

  The following morning when Zeke opened the front door at eight o’clock, he found the same sullen helper standing on his porch, the only difference being that today his shoes were tied.

  “ ’Morning,” Zeke said, pulling the door wide.

  Chad offered no response. Mouth thinned to a bitter line, he stepped over the threshold. Zeke was bewildered. They’d parted on good terms yesterday.

  “So how’s it going?” Zeke tried.

  “The same way it always goes.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Chad hunched his shoulders and kicked at the carpet.

  “Hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  “That’s good,” Zeke replied. “I’m feeling lazy this morning. All I’m having is cereal.”

  “Does that mean we don’t have to work?”

  Zeke chuckled. “Not an option, bucko. Sorry.”

  “People shouldn’t have to work on Sunday.”

  “You a churchgoer?”

  “Not anymore. We used to go every Sunday, but now that we live way out here, we can’t afford the gas.”

  Zeke knew how that went. His parents had seen some really tough times when he was a kid. “I’m sorry things are so difficult right now.”

  “Why should you feel sorry? It’s no skin off your nose.”

  Chad preceded him into the kitchen, flopped onto a chair, and stared glumly at the floor. Okay, Zeke thought. Back to square one. He’d foolishly hoped that he and the boy were becoming friends.

  As Zeke filled a bowl with Cheerios and milk, he said, “You want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?”

  “Whatever happened that has you feeling so low?”

  Chad tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes. “What good would that do?”

  Zeke wasn’t much for talking about things himself. “Sometimes it helps.”

  “It won’t help me.”

  Zeke accepted that with a shrug. “Fine. Just thought I’d offer.”

  Chad stared out the window, his expression revealing nothing but anger.

  “I tried to call my dad again last night,” he finally revealed.

  “Ah.”

  “All I get is his voice mail on every phone. I think he’s screening my calls because he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  Zeke had no idea what to say. The only sounds were the ticking of the wall clock and an occasional faint crackle as the cereal absorbed milk.

  “Maybe he’s just very busy right now,” Zeke suggested.

  Chad’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Maybe.”

  Zeke grabbed the sugar dispenser and generously sprinkled the cereal. He wished he could think of something more to say. This boy was hurting, and his pain might get worse before it got better. He busied himself with eating.

  Between bites, he said, “I had a visit from your sister last night.”

  “I heard. Aunt Valerie says she convinced you to let her and Mom help work off my debt. You don’t have to do that.” Chad turned the cereal box to stare blindly at the list of ingredients. “I’m not a baby. I don’t need my mom to bail me out.” He shot Zeke a burning look. “She doesn’t know the first thing about power tools and fence building. All she’ll do is screw things up.”

  Zeke had his own reservations about the new arrangement, namely that he’d be seeing more of Natalie than he wished, but he refrained from saying so. “With power tools, there’s a learning curve for everyone.” Chad had never touched one himself until yesterday. “I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.”

  “Hello. She’s a female. My dad never let her do anything. He told her to go paint her fingernails and keep out of the workmen’s way.”

  “That’s your dad, not me. I grew up on a ranch.”

  “What’s that got to do with it?”

  “Everything. If not for my mother, my dad would have been sunk. There wasn’t anything on the spread that she couldn’t do as well as a man.”

  “My mom isn’t like that. All she can do is sing.”

  Zeke felt fairly sure that Chad was selling his mother short, but for the moment, at least, he chose to let it slide. “We’ll be nicely entertained while we work, then.”

  Anger flared in Chad’s eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to spend that much time with her. Did you think of that?”

  Careful, Zeke. “Don’t the two of you get along?”

  Chad’s jaw hardened, and his dark eyes went bright with tears. “I hate her. My dad won’t come see me or answer my phone calls. It’s all her fault.”

  Zeke lost his appetite and shoved away the bowl. A smart man would keep his mouth shut. He was no child psychologist, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. On the other hand, he couldn’t erase from his memory the things Rosie had revealed to him last night.

  “I don’t think you’re giving your mom a fair shake, Chad.”

  “What do you know?”

  “She can’t be blamed for the choices your father is making right now.”

  “He’s making those choices because of her. She’s a total bitch to him.”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Your dad doesn’t have to deal with her. He could make arrangements to pick you up for visitation at the end of the driveway or in a store parking lot. He’s also entitled to talk to you on the phone several times a week without interference.”

  “Tell that to my mom.”

  “It’s the law,” Zeke retorted, “and I’m sure
your mother is aware of it. After a divorce, animosity between parents is common. The courts protect a noncustodial parent’s right to see his kids without a hassle. If your mother causes trouble, your father has legal recourse to make her stop.”

  Chad brushed at his cheek. “If that’s true, why hasn’t he done it, then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”

  “Yeah, like, when?” A muscle in Chad’s cheek twitched as he clenched his teeth. “How can I talk to him about anything when he won’t take my calls?”

  Zeke had no answers. He only knew that he was coming to detest Robert Patterson without ever having met the man. Chad’s anger and bitterness toward his mother spelled nothing but trouble. Zeke had seen the results—a sturdy door that this boy had broken with a kick of his foot, signifying a consuming, helpless rage that couldn’t be contained.

  On what or on whom would the boy’s anger be unleashed next?

  Chapter Five

  Two hours late. Natalie couldn’t believe she’d slept until after nine. She had set the alarm for seven, hoping to be up and ready to go when Chad left the house, but the buzzer hadn’t gone off.

  “It’s okay if we’re late, Mommy,” Rosie said. “Mr. Coulter won’t be mad.”

  For Chad’s sake, Natalie hoped not.

  Bending to pick some blue lupine, Rosie launched into a one-sided discussion about wildflowers. Trudging beside the child, Natalie barely attended the discourse. Absurd as it was, she felt nervous about seeing Zeke again. When they’d been at odds, she’d had no problem ignoring how attractive he was. But that had changed with his visit to the club last night.

  His apology had caught her off guard, and his compassion for Chad had disarmed her. The next thing she knew, she’d been talking with him about Robert’s failings as a parent. Normally, she was a very private person. It wasn’t like her to reveal family secrets to a man she barely knew. Even more alarming was the inescapable fact that he’d made her pulse race when he looked at her.