Cowboy Lullaby. Sasha SummersЧитать онлайн книгу.
shot Brody a grateful look. “Time to get this over with.” She shook her head and planted a kiss on Renata’s cheek. “If you remember this tomorrow, you’d better be prepared to apologize,” she whispered in Renata’s ear.
“I won’t.” Renata gripped Tandy’s shoulders. “You love to sing, Tandy. Always have. Go on, sing. For me.” She swayed back, blinking. “Besides, we could all use some cheering up, couldn’t we, Click?”
Tandy hadn’t meant to look at him, but his expression caught her off guard. He looked so sad.
Click blew out a long, slow breath. “I could.”
“See?” Renata’s grin was wobbly again. “Go sing. Before I start crying again.”
Tandy bit back her rising frustration.
“Can’t stand to see a woman cry.” Click’s voice was rough, his jaw tightened again.
Tandy flinched, digging deep to lock up all the pain and anger he stirred. The guilt was harder to shut off—but she managed. She could do this. She could make it through the next few days without losing it. She’d always been an expert at burying her feelings way down deep, thanks to her mother. Losing Click, losing their baby girl, had tested that—but she’d survived. That’s what she’d been doing ever since: surviving.
* * *
CLICK STARED AT her, wishing he’d had time to prepare for this. For Tandy. Not that he was ever prepared for her. Something about her grabbed hold of him deep inside, waking him up, making him feel alive. Even when they were kids, she’d been an unexpected force—all acceptance and support, easy smiles and easier conversation. She’d been different. And important.
He remembered the morning they’d met down to the details. She’d been a little thing, a few years younger in age and spirit. Long braids, rips in the knees of both jeans, her soft voice lifted in song and four puppies trailing behind her. She’d been picking wildflowers to make necklaces for her cousins.
After one especially bad episode, his father had passed out drunk and his mother had driven all through the night to get Click to safety. She’d dumped him at the end of Lynnie’s drive and sped off. He’d slept in the bushes, too sore and too tired to make it down Lynnie’s long drive. He was black-and-blue, dirty and bleary-eyed. But Tandy had taken one look at him, smiled and offered him a puppy.
“She’ll love you forever,” Tandy had said, holding the black-and-white ball of fluff toward him. “Wanna go for a walk with me?”
From then on, Click was like those puppies, following Tandy wherever she went. He’d gladly follow her today, if she’d let him.
He slammed his beer bottle on the bar and swallowed down the old hurt choking him. He’d done this to himself, as always. He’d come here tonight expecting what? A third chance? To see something in Tandy’s gaze that gave him hope?
“You okay?” Brody asked.
He nodded. “Tired.” His gaze bounced from Scarlett to Renata, both watching Tandy as she made her way to the stage on the far side of the bar. Tandy’s voice still haunted his dreams, soft and sultry, a husky vulnerability that demanded attention. This would be torture, wonderful, horrible torture.
“She good?” Brody asked.
“She’s amazing,” Scarlett said. “I’m not just saying that because she’s my cousin either.”
Brody chuckled.
Tandy took the stage, picking up a classic wooden six-string guitar. It looked more prop than instrument, but Tandy plucked and tuned until she was smiling. She shaded her hazel-green eyes and stared at the bar, smiling at Renata. “This is for the only momma I ever knew.”
Click nodded, her words echoing his loss. Lynnie was that for him, as well.
Tandy’s fingers plucked magic from those strings, the music filling the now-silent bar. When she opened her mouth, Click sat on the bar stool. Her voice, those words, left him spellbound.
Nobody sang “Cowboy Take Me Away” like Tandy. Nobody. The rasp of her voice drew every eye her way, pulled them in and left the audience mesmerized.
“Damn.” Brody stared at him.
He nodded, swallowing back the sting in his eyes and the tightness in his throat. Tandy’s voice was unexpected, in the best sense. When the chorus came, Scarlett and Renata joined in.
He smiled, unable to look away from Tandy. She sang, tossing her long hair and closing those eyes as the song came from inside her, for Lynnie. He felt it, the grief and love and gratitude blended together into something raw and beautiful. As she plucked out the last notes of the song, Click was on his feet, whistling loudly. He wasn’t the only one. Her performance was impossible to ignore.
She bowed, placed the guitar back against the wall and crossed the stage.
“Let’s go, Renata,” Scarlett said. “Tandy sang your song. Now let’s get you home.”
“The boys just got here,” Renata argued.
“Renata.” Scarlett’s whisper wasn’t soft enough to miss. “Tandy’s barely keeping it together.”
Click’s gaze searched out Tandy then. Because of him?
“Oops.” Renata pushed off the bar then tipped forward.
Click caught her, swinging her up in his arms. “Gotcha.”
Renata blinked. “Course you do.” She frowned. “I’m not sure what you did to Tandy, Click Hale, but I’m mad at you.”
Click nodded.
But Renata wasn’t done. “How’re we all supposed to grow old together? With you two hating each other.”
Her words gutted him. Hate? Tandy hated him?
“Don’t you know how special she is?” Renata asked, her voice rising.
He nodded again. He knew. Damn he knew. He woke up every morning knowing—regretting.
“Renata! Stop talking,” Scarlett said, horrified. “Maybe you should let Brody carry her?”
“I can walk,” Renata argued.
“Didn’t work too well last time you tried,” Click said. “Stay put. I’ll get you to the truck.”
“This way,” Scarlett said, leading him from the bar. “Brody, can you send Tandy out? Let her know what’s...up.”
Click followed, doing his best to act like Renata hadn’t wounded him. Not that Renata meant any harm. She was drunk, not thinking clearly. Still, there was a ring of truth to her words.
“I got the door.” Scarlett held the truck door wide, stepping aside so he could deposit Renata on the back seat of the four-door truck.
As soon as he’d put her in the truck, Renata listed to the side, resting her head on a pile of suitcases.
He paused, stunned by the appearance of Banshee. He was in the truck bed, staring down at him, tail thumping. Click had given Tandy the dog when he was a puppy—their first baby she’d said. “Hey, Banshee,” he said, holding his hand out. “Grew into those paws, I see.”
Banshee groaned, leaning into Click’s strong rubdown.
Scarlett slammed the door and stared up at him. “Click, don’t listen to her. I’ve never seen her this drunk. She’ll feel terrible, hurting you.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her, giving Banshee’s head and neck a good rub.
“No, you’re not.” Scarlett shook her head. “I’m not going to chastise you but... I don’t know what happened between you and Tandy either. Drunk or not, I agree with Renata on this. Neither one of you is okay, and it makes my heart hurt—for both of you.”
Click