Free Heartland by Sara Walter Ellwood Page A

“Back at the store you said you’re used to people gossiping about you. What did that mean?”
    As she regarded him with eyes as green as the moss on the tree, the evening sun turned her short auburn hair a burnished copper color. He fought the impulse to run his fingers through it. Instead, he filled his lungs with earthy scented air and put his hat on his head. “Mike Ritter ruined the office of sheriff for this county. No one trusts me. I think at first they may have because I’m a vet. But then Raquel committed suicide and a lot of people blame me for it. They think I’ve covered up what actually happened.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “They’re fools. I didn’t know Raquel well, but I know you. You’d never do anything to hurt her.”
    Her determined tone spread warmth though him. If she only knew how he’d covered up where Raquel had gotten the depression pills, she wouldn’t be sure of herself. He stood and held out his hand. “C’mon, we had better be getting back. It’s a long ride and the sun is setting fast.”
    She put her hand into his. The sensation of her smooth skin in his grasp stirred his desire again. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
     

Chapter 8
     
    On Saturday afternoon, Gabe McKenna arrived with Emily’s things. Her father’s best friend unloaded a crate holding her ten CMA awards. Of all her various accolades, the CMA crystal statue she won for Best New Artist six months after her debut album went double platinum was the one she valued the most, because it was her first award. Her father followed him with the last crate, which held her six Grammy figurines. Four other crates held her other twenty-three awards and the plaques for her gold and platinum records.
    They set their crates with the other ones on the floor of the den outside her father’s recording studio. Emily handed them each a glass of lemonade. Gabe sat in a leather captain’s chair, while she and her dad sat on the couch across from him. Gabe looked around at the wooden crates and snickered. “I’ve been in this business a lot longer than you and don’t have this many awards. I’m jealous.”
    Her dad laughed. “Me, too. Where the heck are we going to put them all?” With a shake of his head, he glanced at her. “I’ll have to build onto the house to have room to display them all.”
    Despite his words, the shimmer of raw pride in his gaze humbled her, and a blush burned her cheeks. “I don’t expect to display them. I haven’t for years, but didn’t want to send them to storage in Nashville either.”
    Dad sipped his lemonade, then jutted his chin toward one of the lighted glass cases where some of his various honors were displayed. “I think you should put out your favorites. Those that mean the most to you. We can make room for them easily enough in the cabinets with mine.”
    “That would be great.” She cleared her throat and set her glass on the coffee table. “Gabe, Dad told me why you were willing to drive out of your way to bring my stuff. Thank you for doing this for me.”
    “You’re welcome. I told you I’d do anything for you and would have done it even if I hadn’t wanted to talk to your dad.” He glanced at her father. “He told you he’s being stubborn about joining me.”
    “Yes. Now, I want to hear what you have planned.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
    “Emily?”
    At her father’s questioning tone, she looked from Gabe to her father. “I think what you told me is a fantastic idea. I want to learn more.”
    Gabe shifted in his seat and leaned over his legs. “It’s simple. I want Seth to go into business with me to form our own label.” He looked around the room and at the studio behind a wall of soundproof windows. “Hell, we could record right here until we can rent studio time or set up our own in Nashville. Might actually be cheaper to fly an artist here to record than rent space in the city.” He grinned at her dad. “Your setup is better than some of