To Commit Page 6

  “Name is Hank, but not Williams. Where ya’ll from, ma’am.” He drawled in true Texas fashion.

  “My name is Stella Brannon. I’m from Sulphur, Oklahoma.”

  “Small world, Stella. I’m from Denison, Texas. I’m going to be rich and famous someday. I’m here to see if I can get an interview with Travis and pass along some demo tapes of songs I’ve written for him. What’s your business in Dallas?” He slipped an arm around her.

  No fireworks exploded. The man was Mitch’s opposite. Blond. Handsome in a rugged way. But his touch on her arm did nothing but make her want to slap him.

  “Just trying to relax and get away from southern Oklahoma for a weekend.” She admitted honestly.

  “Well, I’m just the fellow to help a fine lady like you relax,” he said.

  He was much too cocky for Stella’s taste. Why is it that blond haired men just can’t make my heart flutter.

  No answers bounced off the walls of the concert hall

  “Married?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Divorced.”

  “Me, too. Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “Me, either. Woman didn’t want me to write songs. Expected me to work at the car dealership for the rest of my life and never pursue my dreams. Said a man with a wife, a house payment and two kids ought to settle down and grow up. Hell, I ain’t never going to grow up. I’m going to follow bands and when I’m walking up that aisle at the CMA Awards someday to get the award for the best songwriter, she’s going to know just what she threw away.”

  Stella tried to smile but it came out more a grimace. Why did she attract men like Hank and Joel? All she wanted was a nice, quiet lifestyle with someone who truly loved her. Someone to spend the rest of her days with, to sit on the porch in a rocking chair when life was ebbing away and to hold her hand while she made the transition from a living being to a spiritual one.

  “I’m going for a beer. Want one?” Hank asked.

  “No thanks,” she said.

  Travis had performed for fifteen minutes non stop when he slung his guitar over his back and said, “Little surprise while I’m taking a break. Everyone give it up for Sara Evans who’ll entertain you for a few minutes.” Sara stepped up to the mike and sang one of her old songs, “Born to Fly.”

  As she listened to the words, Stella wondered if her time had come to fly. Fly away from all the chains she’d wrapped around her heart when she and Mitch divorced. Soar up away from the bitter taste in her soul. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. For a split second she thought she smelled Rance’s cologne.

  “Excuse me? Anyone sitting here?” He asked.

  She looked up to see Rance. Right there in Dallas. Anger boiled up from the pit of her soul and engulfed her in so much rage her face was scarlet. How dare he follow her.

  “What are you doing here?” She gasped.

  “I’m in Dallas to look at a bull tomorrow afternoon. Heard Travis was singing tonight. Called him and he said to come on to the concert and we’d visit afterwards. Imagine my surprise when I saw you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on a much deserved mini-vacation,” she said shortly.

  “Come with that fellow who just left?” He asked.

  “No, never met him before.”

  “Going home with him?”

  “That isn’t a bit of your business,” she said.

  “Where you staying?”

  “At the Econolodge.” She lied.

  “Who is that?” Tina whispered when Rance had settled into the seat beside Stella.

  “It’s the devil in tight jeans and brown contacts,” Stella whispered back. “Who claims to know Travis personally.”

  “Handsome devil,” Tina grinned then reached for her cell phone that had vibrated in her pocket. The smile grew the longer she listened.

  “Brock is finished early and meeting me at the hotel. I’ll see you in the morning. Got a way home?”

  Stella waved her away. “I know how to hail a cab.”

  “Who is that?” Rance asked.

  “My friend from California. Well, she’s originally from Sulphur but she went to Hollywood and is an actress now.”

  “Where’s she going? Is that Tina McIvey?”

  “Yes, it is and she’s going back to the hotel to answer both of your questions.”

  “I can give you a ride when the show is over. My truck is just outside,” Rance said.

  “And miss the back stage party with Travis. I couldn’t let you do that,” she said sarcastically.

  “We’ll make an appearance at the party and then I’ll take you home,” he said.

  Great balls of fire, he wasn’t joking or lying about the party. He really did know Travis. Wait until she went home and told Lauren that she’d actually seen the man in person, not just up on the stage.

  “All right,” she nodded, still not believing him. How would a rancher know Travis Tritt?

  Every time his hand brushed against hers on the arm rest she shivered. She could feel his piercing eyes when they glanced her way. Travis sang. She fought the urge to squirm. Travis sang some more. She wished she was home in the safety of her rut. Travis ended the concert with “T-R-O-U-B-L-E.” She felt like she was wallowing in trouble just sitting beside Rance.

  They made their way to the center aisle and slowly down to the stage. Rance put his hand on the small of her back to guide her, heating up every fiber in her body. When was this deception going to end? Surely the guards wouldn’t just let him walk backstage with no pass or anything. What kind of tall tale would he spin then?

  The guard shook hands with Rance. “Well, hello Rance. How’s things going? Heard you sold out in Waco and bought a place in southern Oklahoma. Who you going to root for when Texas plays OU now?”

  “The Longhorns. I’m still a Texan even if I have crossed the river,” Rance said. “This is Stella Brannon, my neighbor in Oklahoma. She’s probably going to yell for the Sooners. Will that keep her from going back stage with me?”

  “Not if she promises to keep that information under her hat. Don’t guess she’s got an OU sweatshirt hiding in her boots, does she?”

  Stella shook her head. “No, I do not.”

  “Well, then go on back and visit with Travis. He’ll be right happy to see you.”

  “Thanks, Willy,” Rance said.

  “Willy?” Stella asked when they were out of hearing distance.

  “Not Willy, the great, just Willy one of the stage hands. He went to school with me down in Waco. If Texas hadn’t beat OU this year, you might have been barred from going with me.”

  “He looks big enough to play for the Longhorns,” Stella said.

  Rance wrapped an arm around her waist, claiming his rights even if only for a little while. “He is, but blew out his knee in the last game of our senior year. Was a helluva line backer. Ah, here we are.”

  She met Travis and the three of them visited for fifteen minutes, with Rance doing most of the talking, telling about his ranch in Oklahoma and inviting Travis to come see him when he got home from the tour. Travis said he might show up on Rance’s door step. When Travis was called over to another group, Rance waved and guided Stella toward the door.

  “Are you ready to go?” He asked.

  “I should get an autograph for Lauren,” she said.

  “Why? Travis shows up at my place about once a year for some rest and relaxation. Brings his family. Rides the horses. Sleeps like a log for a few days. Gets rejuvenated and all that. Next time he comes I’ll invite you and Lauren over for dinner. We’ll go out this door. I’m parked in the VIP section.”

  “Well, well, ain’t you the big shot,” she said.

  “No, I’m not. I’m just Rance. That’s what got me in trouble with my ex. She wanted a big shot. Now where is the Econolodge located?”

  Oops! She’d been caught. She could have him take her to the hotel, go inside and wait until he drove away, then call a cab, bu
t she had no idea where the Econolodge was. There was nothing to do but ’fess up.

  “I’m not at the Econolodge. Tina and I are staying at the Wyndham, not far from here,” she said.

  He frowned. “Why’d you tell me that, then?”

  “Truth?”

  “Can I handle it?” He asked.

  “Probably not, so I’ll just plead the fifth and not answer. Where are you staying?”

  “The Wyndham. It’s my choice of hotels if I have to be in Dallas,” he said.

  She focused on his face in the darkness of the pickup. “I’m not sure I believe in this many coincidences,”

  “Me, either. But I do believe in fate. What’s the chances of two neighbors from southern Oklahoma finding each other amongst all those people at a concert and then staying in the same hotel? That’s not coincidence, it’s fate.”

  He handed the valet the keys to his Dodge Ram truck at the front of the hotel and escorted Stella inside, his hand on her back again, burning holes through her jeans and tattooing her skin. He pushed the up button on the elevator and waited.

  “Which floor?” He asked.

  “Three,” she answered, catching his eyes staring right into hers in the smoky mirrors inside the elevator. “Where are you?”

  “Same.” He whistled one of Travis’s songs.

  “Fate again?”

  “Guess so.”

  It had to be fate. How else could he have known? She’d told her mother that she was going to Dallas to give Tina a ride home but that’s the only person she’d mentioned her whereabouts to. Other than that snippy Jewel who’d called and insisted that she rent them a wing on a moment’s notice. There was no way her mother would be talking to Rance, or Jewel either. That left only fate and/or divine intervention, and God certainly did not have that big of a sense of humor.

  “Well, here we are,” she said when the doors slid open.

  “Which room?”

  She motioned to the door across from the elevator. “Right in front of us.”

  “Mine is down the hall. Want to come down for a drink or a late night movie?”

  It took every ounce of willpower she had to tell him no.

  He leaned against the wall in front of her door. “Okay, then. Guess I’ve seen you safely home.”

  “Thanks for taking me to the after party and giving me a ride.” She inserted the plastic key into the slot.

  One minute she was keeping her eyes on the door, the next she looked up to see him staring intently at her. The brown contacts were gone and his eyes were their natural color, icy blue and getting closer and closer. She barely had time to snap her eyelids shut before his lips found hers.

  “Rance,” she said breathlessly when he reluctantly pulled away, “this won’t work. I told you before. We want two different things.”

  “It was just a goodnight kiss, Stella. It wasn’t a proposal.” His tone was chilly. He wanted that kiss to be just what he said, a goodnight kiss that did nothing for him. But it wasn’t.

  “Then good night,” she stepped into the room, a mad sitting on her shoulder so big she couldn’t have knocked it off with a bull dozer. Blast him all the way to the devil anyway.

  “Good night and you are welcome,” he said like a true gentleman.

  She spun around, holding the door with one hand, and glaring at him. “For what?”

  “Welcome for the after party and the ride. What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Nothing. Not one thing. Have a safe trip home and good luck with the bull. And thank you,” she said, the tone still dripping with icicles.

  “What?” He stopped before he said bull. He was supposed to be in Dallas looking at a bull, not at Stella. If she knew this whole affair wasn’t brought on by fate, she’d really never speak to him again. “You drive carefully, too,” he stammered and didn’t look back as he headed toward his room.

  Chapter Five

  Rance showered, shaved and put on cologne. He talked to Melanie and Grace the whole time he got ready to go to Brannon Inn. He hadn’t seen Stella all week, not since they’d argued at the door to her hotel room, but he found out by sneaky means that she didn’t have guests this weekend. So he was going over there to ask her to go to supper with him. It would be harder to tell him no if he was standing right there on her porch.

  He had to get her out of his heart and soul. It was eating away at him and yet everytime they were together, they fought. The passion in the kisses as well as the fire when they argued kept pulling him back to her. Surely she didn’t feel the same or she’d be jumping the fences between their properties.

  His hands were clammy and his heart raced like it did the first time he borrowed his father’s truck and took Mary Lou Smith to the picture show in Lewisville. They had watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High and he had blushed all the way through the movie. He’d had lots of girlfriends since that day, and he’d been married for a year and divorced a little over four years now. So why in the world did his hands get all sweaty at just the thought of Stella?

  He put an old John Conlee cassette in the tape player and listened to “Rose Colored Glasses.” He sang along and wondered if Stella liked John Conlee as well as she did Travis Tritt. There were so many things he didn’t know about his neighbor and he wanted to know everything. By the time the song ended he couldn’t remember anything he’d heard. Every thought centered on something Stella had done in the past weeks.

  That isn’t part of the contract. Breakfast from six to seven, on the bar until eight if the clients arise a little later, no lunch, supper promptly at six, family style at the table, and BYOE, that’s bring your own entertainment. This sounds like too many coincidences.

  He remembered the way she brushed a wisp of unruly hair from her face when she poured tea for him. The way his hand tingled when he touched her fingers at the concert. And that defiant look on her face when she told him the way to get rid of a slug was to pour salt on it. And definitely the way she felt in his arms and the way she’d sighed when they shared those explosive kisses.

  By the time he drove to Brannon Inn he’d begun to wonder if Mitch had rocks for brains. Stella was beautiful both inside and out. She was a fantastic lady even when she was angry. He thought about the look on her face when she and the mop were dancing around the bedroom to country music as he nosed his truck into the gravel driveway to the Brannon Inn.

  Stella had opened the windows to air out the Inn in spite of the slight chill in the air earlier in the afternoon. To have a fifty degree day in December was an oddity and she wasn’t wasting one bit of the sunshine. She had just lowered the last window when she saw headlights coming down the gravel lane to the Inn. Maggie and Lauren weren’t in for the weekend, were they? She didn’t have anyone booked and she’d planned on a quiet evening reading. One of those romance novels she’d checked out at the Sulphur library the day before. She had a choice. The newest by Nora Roberts, a Merline Lovelace or a Nancy Parra.

  She prayed as she turned the lock on the window. “Lord help me get Rance out of my heart and mind. Give me something in one of the books to think about other than his blue eyes.”

  The phone rang at the same time she heard the truck door slam. She picked up the phone and realized her heart was beating faster than usual. Mercy, she was surely getting out of shape when just putting down a window affected her like that. “Hello.”

  “Stella, hi honey. How’s the Inn business?”

  “Who is this?” She asked bluntly.

  “Oh, I am truly hurt. Take you out, buy you an ice cream, look at the stars with you and even share a nice, warm kiss and you still don’t recognize my voice? My heart is pained. Surely after seeing each other twice, you would remember my voice.”

  “Joel?” She said at the same time Rance knocked on the door. Talk about a horrid answer to a prayer. Rance in the room, making her blood boil with desire and Joel on the phone. Surely her prayer had gotten hung up on the rafters. God wouldn’t send Joel to make her forge
t Rance. He didn’t answer honest prayers with gag gifts.

  He lowered his voice to barely above a sexy whisper. “Who else? At your service, ma’am. I thought we’d chase off to Dallas tomorrow afternoon, maybe have some supper and spend the night at a good motel. Then Sunday we’d take a leisurely drive back home. No little hints at pulling off the road. No kisses at the door of the Inn. Just a passionate weekend together.”

  “The answer is no and there’s someone at my door.” She breathed a sigh of pure relief which he took for disappointment.

  “Then how about the next week?”

  “I don’t think so. I told you before it won’t work. I don’t like you and you really don’t like me. Remember I’m too prudish and . . .”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, coldly. “But when you’re sitting out there in twenty years with gray hair and wrinkles and no man will look at you, Stella, just remember you turned down the best offer you’ll ever get.”

  “Temper, temper.”

  “Just facts, darlin’.” He snapped. “Good-bye, Stella. Don’t call me. I’ll call you when I hear you’ve had a change of heart.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. You look awful in that shade of blue. Good-bye, Joel.”

  Rance couldn’t help hearing one side of the conversation through the screen door.

  She turned abruptly and stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on my way to town for some dinner. Want to join me?” He gritted his teeth. Not at all the way he’d planned but dang it, she’d started the fight with her tone.

  She shook her finger at him. “I told you at the hotel last week, this isn’t going to work. We’ll be friends or neighbors but I’m not dating you.”

  He put up his hands. “Hey, start all over. I’d like to go out for some dinner. Would you join me? It doesn’t have to be a date. Just adult folks eating a meal together with a little conversation thrown in without a bunch of kids around.”

  “So you don’t like kids? I might have known. Anyone so rich they’re friends with Travis Tritt wouldn’t want kids interrupting their dinner.”