The Girl He Left Behind. Patricia Kay

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Girl He Left Behind - Patricia Kay страница 8

The Girl He Left Behind - Patricia  Kay

Скачать книгу

probably exactly why he didn’t tell you.

      Eve knew this wasn’t a big deal. It was just that she hated weekends on her own. It would be different if she, too, had remarried and had other children, or at least a partner to go places with her. But she hadn’t. And the way things looked, she probably wouldn’t. After all, to get married meant you needed to be seeing someone, and she had no prospects on the horizon. Crandall Lake wasn’t exactly a dating mecca. And even though, at one time, she’d dreamed about moving to Austin or Houston or somewhere with a bigger newspaper, her dream had turned out to be only a fantasy. Bill’s business was here. So here she’d have to stay. She could not take the twins from their father.

      Olivia had once suggested Eve might sign up for an online dating service.

      “I don’t see you doing that,” Eve had said.

      “I’m not ready” had been Olivia’s quiet answer.

      Eve had been immediately sorry for her retort. At the time, her cousin had been still mourning her husband’s death.

      “But it would be good for you, Eve.”

      Eve knew Olivia had been right. Eve should be proactive if she didn’t want to remain single her entire life. She would be thirty in just a couple of months, and even though thirty wasn’t exactly old-maid territory, and lots of women today married later in life, mostly those women had interesting and successful careers. That wasn’t true of her. She worked for a small daily paper struggling to keep afloat with dwindling subscriptions and fewer advertisers. In fact, she’d been hearing rumors of layoffs.

      Eve sighed, remembering that conversation. What was she going to do with herself this weekend? She was already bored and it was only six o’clock Saturday evening. There was nothing good on television, Olivia and Thea were in Dallas for the weekend and no one else that Eve knew was free. Her own mother was probably busy with a bridge tournament or something. Ironically, Anna seemed to have more of a social life than Eve ever had—or would have.

      After another half hour of yawning and attempting to knit—she had learned this past year—Eve shoved the knitting back into the tote that housed her supplies and got up. “I’m going to the shelter,” she announced aloud. She’d begun volunteering at Crandall Lake’s homeless shelter six months earlier, and she’d found it very satisfying work. She’d even made friends of some of the women there. “Going to the shelter is better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself,” she muttered as she prepared to leave, “or thinking about Adam Crenshaw.”

      She hadn’t heard otherwise, so she figured he was still in town. Given the level of interest in their town’s biggest celebrity, who had surpassed former pro quarterback Dillon Burke’s position as its most famous alumnus, she knew she would have heard if Adam had returned to Nashville.

      Thirty minutes later, as she approached the shelter, her spirits had already improved. It always did her good to come here, made her count her blessings and remind her that despite her problems she was extremely fortunate. She shouldn’t ever complain, even to herself. Life could always be so much worse—and was for many. She and her children—in fact, her entire family, everyone she loved—was healthy and had a roof over their heads. What more could she ask for?

      Vowing to do better, she walked into the building and saw that she had arrived too late to help serve dinner, but not too late to help clean up. Donning an apron, she joined the other volunteers and in short order they’d cleared all the dirty plates and cutlery.

      “I guess you heard who’s coming tonight,” said Julianne, one of the teen volunteers.

      Eve frowned. “Um, no. What do you mean?”

      Julianne grinned. “Adam Crenshaw! Oh, c’mon. You knew!”

      Eve shook her head. Her stupid heart had already started to gallop, just at the sound of his name. “No, I—I didn’t. When will he be here?”

      “Any minute,” Julianne said. “He’s going to sing!” Her eyes shone with excitement.

      Eve looked around wildly. Any minute! Up to now, she’d managed to avoid going anywhere she thought he might be. Oh, God, she had to get out of here. She knew it would look crazy to leave just ten or fifteen minutes after arriving, but she couldn’t stay. So what if the other volunteers gossiped about her? They’d forget about her as soon as Adam started singing. She began to remove her apron, but it was already too late, for the entire room started to buzz with anticipation as Adam walked through the dining room doorway.

      Eve could feel herself trembling. Olivia had been right. He did look better in person. In fact, he looked gorgeous. She took in the black T-shirt with his band’s logo on the front, the tight jeans, the worn biker boots, his shining hair, the dimple that appeared as he smiled at the crowd.

      An interviewer had once asked why he never wore cowboy boots or cowboy hats. His answer had been that he’d never been a cowboy and refused to pretend he was. “I’m just a musician,” he’d said, “who, a lot of the time, likes to write and sing country music.”

      Adam. His name felt like a prayer.

      She couldn’t take her eyes off him. But he hadn’t seen her. Thank God, he hadn’t seen her. Eve knew she couldn’t leave without causing a bit of commotion because there were too many people crowded into the room now. It seemed as if everyone who worked there, plus every person who lived there, had jammed themselves into the room.

      She watched as he worked the crowd, shaking hands, signing autographs, allowing people to take pictures of him and selfies with him. He’d come a long way from the insecure boy who covered up his loneliness with fierce privacy and a facade of boredom.

      “Hello, y’all,” he said now. “Thanks for inviting me to come visit and sing for you.”

      The crowd yelled out their welcome.

      Eve managed to maneuver herself to the back of the room while Adam tuned his guitar from the piano near the doors leading to the kitchen. A few minutes later, among cheers of approval, he launched into his signature hit—the first of his records to go platinum—“Impossible to Forget.”

      “I told myself I didn’t care our love was in the past.

      I told myself our promises were never meant to last.

      But every day, in every way,

      I fought heartache and regret,

      The truth was there for all to see,

      You were impossible to forget.”

      As he sang, he seemed to be looking straight at her. Eve wanted to look away, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t. She wondered what he was thinking as he sang. She had always wondered if he’d written the song about her. As their eyes locked, she struggled to contain her emotions. When she couldn’t, when tears filled her eyes, she knew she had to get out of there. And fast. So as the song finished, she used the boisterous crowd, many of whom jumped to their feet to applaud and call out other song titles they wanted Adam to sing, to hide her exit.

      She headed straight for the back door, but when she got there, safely out of sight of the people in the dining room, she discovered it was locked for the night. She was going to have to go out the front. She would have to pass by Adam.

      He had begun another song.

Скачать книгу