go into town one day. I could show you around while your dad’s working.”
Annie regarded her skeptically. “Yeah, well, if you’re doing it so my dad’ll notice you, you’re wasting your time. He hates girls, because of my mom. My grandma says he’d be a recluse if he could.”
Apparently Grandma had one very loose tongue. “Well, you’re here now, so being a recluse is not an option,” Val said briskly, giving Annie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “He may not know it yet, but having you here is going to be very good for him. I can tell that already.”
Despite Annie’s conviction about how little her father thought of her, she gave Val a hopeful look that almost broke her heart.
“Do you think so?” she asked.
“I know so,” Val assured her. If she had to knock Slade Sutton upside the head herself, she was going to see to it.
Val had a giant-size calendar spread out on the floor in Laurie’s music room, while her boss sprawled on the sofa, idly picking out a tune on her guitar.
“This song is terrible,” Laurie concluded, eyeing the instrument as if it were at fault. “I haven’t been able to write worth a lick since Harlan Patrick and I got married.”
“Stop putting so much pressure on yourself,” Val advised. She’d been listening to the same complaint for weeks now. If Laurie wasn’t careful, she was going to talk herself straight into a writer’s block, even though on her worst days she was better than half the songwriters out there. “Take time out to count your blessings. You have a handsome, sexy husband who adores you. You have a gorgeous daughter who is absolutely brilliant for someone barely a year old.”
Laurie managed a ghost of a smile at the reminders. “Okay, yes, I am very lucky.”
“Concentrate on that for a few days. After all, you only need two more songs for the new album,” she reminded her boss. “The studio time’s not booked for two more months.”
The faint smile faded at once. “Why two months?” Laurie grumbled, picking out the notes of her last hit on the guitar. “I should be in Nashville now. If I don’t get back to work soon, my fans will forget all about me.”
Val rolled her eyes heavenward. Laurie had been a wreck ever since she had agreed to take a break from her usual hectic recording and concert pace. She blamed her agent, Val and Harlan Patrick for talking her into it. Most of all, she blamed herself for caving in. The forced idleness was making her crazy, especially since her husband was as busy as ever running the ranch and couldn’t devote himself full-time to keeping her occupied.
“No one is going to forget about you,” Val soothed. “Nick and I have that covered. There will be plenty of items in the media. I’ve booked you on at least one of the entertainment shows every single month until the album’s due to be released. There are fresh angles for every story. Besides, I thought you had enough media coverage to last a lifetime when they were chasing after the story of your secret baby.”
Laurie didn’t look pacified. “What if Harlan Patrick was right?”
“About what?”
“What if I refused to marry him for so long because I knew once I was completely happy I wouldn’t be able to write another song?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t have to be wallowing in heartbreak to know what it’s like. Draw on old memories. For that matter, write something upbeat for a change.” She gave Laurie a wicked smile. “Write about having babies.”
Laurie’s scowl deepened. “Now you sound exactly like Harlan Patrick. He wants me barefoot and pregnant.”
“Maybe that’s because he missed seeing you pregnant with Amy Lynn. Maybe he just wants to be in on the next pregnancy from start to finish. Maybe it’s not some evil scheme to see you trapped down here on the ranch.”
Laurie sighed. “I suppose.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re already pregnant.”
Laurie’s idle strumming screeched into something wildly discordant. “Oh, God. Bite your tongue.”
“Stop it,” Val chided. “This is exactly the mood you were in when you were carrying Amy Lynn. To be honest, you were unbearable. Of course, then it was understandable. You had to hide out so Harlan Patrick wouldn’t find out about the baby. There’s no need to hide out now. You can go on the road. You can do anything you’d do if you weren’t pregnant. It wouldn’t be a calamity, Laurie. And Harlan Patrick and the rest of the family would be over the moon at the news.”
“I suppose,” Laurie conceded, clearly unconvinced. She glanced down at the calendar Val had been working on. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to finalize next spring’s concert tour.”
Laurie’s expression brightened. “Let me see,” she said, putting the guitar aside to kneel down beside Val. “Dallas, Tucson, San Antonio, Phoenix, Albuquerque, Denver. Why is everything in the Southwest? Does Nick know something I don’t? Am I losing fans in the South?”
“No, you are not losing fans anywhere. The schedule won’t be like this when Nick is finished with the bookings,” Val assured her, then grinned. “We both just thought you’d prefer to be close to home around the time the baby’s due.”
“I am not pregnant,” Laurie repeated with a stubborn jut of her chin.
“Saying it won’t make it true,” Val taunted. “See a doctor, Laurie. Take a home pregnancy test. Do something before you drive both of us nuts.”
She glanced up just then and spotted Annie standing hesitantly on the deck outside.
“Is it okay?” Annie whispered, her awestruck gaze fixed on Laurie, though the question was directed to Val.
“Of course it’s okay,” Val said. “Laurie, this is Annie Sutton.”
“Hi,” Annie said shyly, not budging from outside. “My dad said not to bother you, if you were busy.”
“We’re not busy,” Laurie said. “More’s the pity.”
“You were singing before,” Annie said. “I heard you. I hope that’s okay.”
Val wondered how much more Annie had heard before she’d made her presence known. Her expression, however, was totally innocent. Maybe she’d been so captivated just being near Laurie that she hadn’t been paying any attention to the rest.
Laurie grinned at her. “What did you think of the song? Tell the truth. I can take it.”
“I thought it was awesome, not as sad as what you usually do,” Annie said, creeping inside. “Is it finished?”
“Not yet.
