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Authors: Deborah Smith

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BOOK: Caught by Surprise
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Brig eyed him thoughtfully. “Good advice,” he admitted.

Kyle stuck out a hand. “Good luck.” They shook.

Brig held out his hand to Jeopard. For a moment, he and Millie’s older brother traded assessing looks, measuring each other’s strengths. Brig thought there was a good man behind those cold eyes. Jeopard proved it by grasping his outstretched hand and shaking firmly.

“She loves you,” Jeopard told him. “It was obvious by the look on her face when she introduced us.”

“I love her. You can count on it.”

With that understanding established, they sat back
and looked at the empty chair at the table. Brig got up silently and left the room. When he came back, he carried Millie under one arm. She dangled there rigidly, half-mad and half-amused.

He put her down by her chair, and she glared at him. “If I weren’t hungry, I would never have let you do that,” she promised.

“Hah.”

She sat down while he went to the stove and got the rest of the food. Millie looked at her brothers, who gazed back with feigned innocence. “Don’t say a word,” she ordered.

Jeopard and Kyle climbed back in their old van and left after lunch. Brig stood beside her at the edge of the yard as she waved good-bye.

When the van was out of sight beyond her moss-draped oak trees, Millie leaned against him, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

“Sssh, now, sssh,” he urged. “They’re Surprises, remember? I’d bet my next record contract that they can take care of themselves and anybody else that comes along.”

She looked up at him in amazement. “How do you do it?” Millie demanded.

“Do what, love?”

“Read my mind.”

He chuckled. “It’s an old aborigine trick.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. “Thank you for caring, you old aborigine.” He hugged her, and she sighed into the warm texture of the blue polo shirt he now wore with his cutoffs. “When are you going back to Nashville?” she asked in a carefully neutral tone.

“When you agree to come with me.”

She stiffened and drew back to look up at him with luminous, unhappy eyes. “You can’t wait that long. I know you’ve been asked to play at a charity concert next
weekend. I know that your manager wants you to come back tomorrow.”

He frowned. “You readin’ minds too?”

“I called your manager and grilled him about your schedule.”

“Strewth! I’ll twist Chuck’s tongue around his neck!”

“He simply told me the truth. Don’t be mad at him.”

Brig grabbed her hands. “Melisande, what would you leave behind if you came with me? Nothing. Just this old place. Just a job with the sheriffs department, a job somebody else can do. I know you love your home, and I’ll hire somebody to take care of it. I’ll donate money to the city if it’ll keep you from feelin’ guilty about leavin’ your job without two weeks notice.”

“Those aren’t the important problems.”

“I’ve got a helluva big house outside Nashville. Country-style. Quiet. Plenty of room for even the most rambunctious woman. You can have the run of it—”

“And play pampered mistress while you work?”

“Come to work with me. I’ll find something for you to do.”

She laughed tonelessly. “I guess I could learn to be a groupie or a gopher.”

An impressive mixture of Australian and American obscenities rolled off his tongue. “What do you
want
to do, then?”

Millie held his hands tightly. She wanted to go with him and never look back, but she was afraid. “I’ll visit you,” she murmured. “On my days off. During vacations. And we’ll see how well I fit into your life.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “My life is you.”

“Your life is me and your music. You try to sound casual about it, but I’d have to be a fool not to see how much it means to you. Anyone who hurts your music, hurts you.” She struggled with the tightness in her throat. “I don’t want to be that anyone.”

“What do you think you’d do that could hurt my music or me?”

“I know what kind of fans you attract. They’re rowdy and unpredictable. Fights are practically a part of your
show. I couldn’t stand by and watch like a good little girl.”

“Those were the old days,” he said in an amazed tone. “Last tour me and the band went on, we didn’t get into more than one or two fights the whole time. I don’t play backwoods bars anymore.”

“You admitted to me once that women throw themselves at you back stage. I’m afraid I’d throw them back—with their noses rearranged.”

He tried to joke. “You’ve got my permission.”

“The law suits wouldn’t be funny, and you know it.”

All Brig could picture was a backstage without her waiting for him. “Melly, you’re not giving it a chance,” he said angrily. “You don’t know how you’d act.”

She nodded. “And that’s why I’ll come for short visits, and we’ll see.”

He stepped back from her, so frustrated that all he could do was shake his head. “Some sort of mean angel made me fall in love with you,” he told her solemnly. “And now I’m ruined for any other woman.” He shook a finger at her. “But if I’d had a choice—”

The soft purr of a powerful car engine made them both look toward the bend in her driveway. A long black limousine pulled into sight. “If your brothers are comin’ back, they changed their cover in a big way,” Brig commented. The limo stopped beside them.

A driver got out, nodded a greeting, and opened the backdoor. The occupant put both feet on the ground, and Millie noted with a sinking sensation that neither Jeopard nor Kyle Surprise had feminine legs. And they sure didn’t wear white hose or blue pumps with small blue rosettes on the toes.

“Honey, I flew down from Nashville because I just can’t go on alone anymore!” a sugary voice blurted.

Natty Brannigan followed her legs out of the limousine, dabbed white gloves at the tears on her perfect face, and flung herself into Brig’s arms.

If he’d had a choice
.

•  •  •

“And then this huge, shadowy man stepped out of the hallway at the studio, and he grabbed me around the throat,” Natty continued. Seated on Millie’s couch, a cup of blackberry tea perched on the gray silk skirt that matched her gray silk jacket and blouse, Natty held court. Millie sat cross-legged in a chair and aimed black thoughts in Natty’s direction. Brig sat beside Natty on the couch, his arm around her.

“It was late at night—I don’t know how he got past the security people,” Natty continued. “But he held my throat so tight that I could barely breathe, and he said, ‘You like to sing, don’t you?’ I was about to faint, but I nodded. ‘Then stick to singing and stay out of other people’s business,’ he said. And then he let go of me. I blacked out for a second, and when I came to, I was sitting on the floor, and he was gone.”

“And nobody else got a look at him?” Brig asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, Brig.” She moaned. “After the incident with the car brakes and the vandalism at my house, it all adds up. Don’t you see? He’s trying to scare me off!”

Millie’s dark thoughts gave way to curiosity. Natty looked at her suddenly and asked, “Has Brig told you about me?”

The dark thoughts returned. Millie shook her head. “I didn’t ask for a list of ex-girlfriends.” In truth, she’d figured that what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

“Mercy!” Natty exclaimed. “Brig honey, is that what she still thinks I am?”

“She’s not an ex-girlfriend,” Brig told Millie patiently. He removed his arm from Natty’s shoulders, patted her hand, and looked at Millie with droll rebuke. “If you want a list, I’ll give you one. But Natty’s not on it. If you had the typical curiosity God gave a female, you’d have asked by now, and I’d have told you so. I kept expectin’ you to.”

He and Millie shared a long look. Relief bubbled up inside her as she read the unmistakable truth in Brig’s eyes. She gave him an embarrassed squint and mumbled, “Sexist goat. I apologize for not being nosy.”

Brig nodded. “Want to know the whole tale?” Her head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. “That Tennessee senator I punched, Natty was seeing him.”

“Let’s be accurate,” Natty interjected wearily. “I was havin’ a torrid affair with the man.” She sighed. “Bo Halford is one handsome devil, I admit it. With the emphasis on
devil.

“Natty found out that Bo was lettin’ chemical companies set up toxic waste dumps without goin’ through the state environmental protection boys,” Brig explained. “Takin’ payoffs for it.”

“He was putting these awful ol’ dumps outside little mountain towns that I love,” Natty said emphatically. “I have relatives up thataway. I had to do somethin’.”

“So she decided to blow the whistle on Bo,” Brig added.

Natty inhaled sadly. “And I was afraid of what he’d do—his family’s been in Tennessee politics since before the Civil War. You don’t mess with a man like Bo Halford. So Brig said he’d go with me when I put my cards on the table.”

“How did you end up hitting him?” Millie asked Brig, her tone incredulous.

“He told Natty that she’d never get enough evidence to hurt him, and he’d hurt
her
plenty if she tried.”

Natty gestured excitedly. “And that’s when ol’ Brig popped him. Right in the nose! Bo took a swing back, and Brig punched him in the breadbasket. Bo went down like a felled tree! It was beautiful!”

Millie stared at Natty Brannigan with growing admiration. Under that debutante exterior lurked a tiger’s heart.

The singer looked at Brig sadly. “But Brig ended up in jail, despite everything his people and my people could do.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I still shudder when I think of what would have happened if we hadn’t got you transferred to the jail down here.”

“What?” Millie asked, amazed. She gazed at Brig wide-eyed. “I thought your lawyers arranged the transfer to avoid bad publicity.”

“Bad publicity and accidents.” He shrugged.

“Accidents caused by Bo Halford’s people in a Nashville jail,” Natty explained grimly. “Somebody would have probably killed him.” She teared up again. “Somebody still might try. I think Bo’s tiyin’ to warn me, and Lord knows what he’d do to you if you go back to Nashville before the federal people get done.”

Millie’s train of thought had stopped at the words, “Somebody still might try.” Trembling, she stood up. “You’re in danger,” she told Brig. “I’m definitely going to Nashville with you.”

He groaned. “I don’t know if I’m in danger. I might not be.” He rose and went to her, grasping her shoulders tightly. “But since I’m not sure anymore, the last thing I’m gonna do is put you in the middle. You’ll stay here.”

“No.”

“Yep, Melly. For the time bein’.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked desperately. “Wait for the man to try something?”

“That’s all I can do until the investigation’s done.”

“What investigation?”

“Federal boys are workin’ on the case. That’s why Bo’s harassin’ Natty. He’s startin’ to squirm.”

“Then you stay here. There’s nothing you can do.”

Brig’s jaw tightened. “I’ve got business to take care of. And I’m not used to hidin’ like a scared rabbit. Besides, it’s not likely that the mangy bastard’ll try anything serious.”

Millie touched her chest tentatively. Her heart was trying to pound a dent in her ribcage. She felt cold and terrified in a strange way she’d never experienced before.

“Melisande?” Brig asked with concern.

She gazed at him wretchedly. “I’m frightened for your sake.”

His eyes melted with tenderness. He took her in his arms and swayed gently, holding her. “You stay here and don’t worry,” he whispered. After a moment he said, “And I think Natty ought to stay with you. It’s a good, safe place for her to be. There now. You can protect Natty.”

“I
love
being protected,” Natty added quickly. “If you don’t mind the company.”

Millie drew back and looked at Brig with desperate adoration. “I don’t know if I can let you go and not follow,” she murmured.

“A little while ago you were ready to let me go alone,” he reminded her gently.

“I didn’t think you were in danger then.”

“No more worries that you’ll embarrass me?”

She shook her head fervently. “I don’t care about anything but keeping you alive.”

He made a soft sound of bittersweet joy and kissed her forehead. “Bo Halford’s not in a killin’ mood. He just wants to have some fun, Melly.”

“Then why can’t I go with you?”

Brig’s eyes darkened with exasperation. “If he hurt you, I’d mangle him. And then I’d spend the rest of my life in a jail. One not half so kindly as Paradise Springs, eh?”

Millie grasped his shirt front. Her anxiety quieted suddenly, replaced by absolute, deadly calm. “If anything happens to you, Halford won’t get away from me.”

The silence that followed was charged with emotion. The only sound was the soft catch of Natty’s breath as she watched Brig and Millie. “God,” she prayed out loud in utter sincerity, “Please let me find somebody to love that much.”

Nine

Brig realized how much he missed Millie after only a few days back in Nashville. He was holding Rucker and Dinah McClure hostage just to hear them talk about her. Rucker barely stifled a yawn over his bourbon.

“I hate to mention this, but it’s getting late,” Dinah interrupted gently. She glanced around the swank Nashville restaurant to which Brig had invited them as soon as he heard that Rucker was in town on a book promotion tour. “It’s just us and the waiters. And the waiters are forming a vigilante committee to kick us out.”

“Come on out to my house,” Brig urged.

Rucker rubbed a hand across his thick auburn mustache and chuckled. “Friend, I’ve told you every true story I know about Millie, and a few I made up.”

Brig groaned and leaned back in his chair. He felt awkward in his black sport coat, tan slacks, crisp shirt, and tie. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dressing up on occasion—it was just that he wanted to be back in the Florida heat, wearing little or nothing, with Millie.

“It’s not fair,” he grumbled lightly. “I’ve written dozens of songs about the hell of bein’ lonely. Nobody warned me that they were true.”

BOOK: Caught by Surprise
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