Diamond (18 page)

Cradle Creek looked just as it had the day Jesse had first seen it, only colder. And if possible, grayer. He was tired clear down to his bones. He had come back here on instinct. A last-ditch hope had sent him back to the place where he’d found her.

He’d stayed drunk for a week and then searched Nashville for days, with no luck. But he’d known from the first that if she’d left the car at the bus station, she was gone.

Cradle Creek was his last hope. And if he had no luck, it would also be the end of the road. The thought was unacceptable, but probable, and he’d ignored it for days.

He drove up to Whitelaw’s Bar and started to park. But when he looked next door to the place where Johnny Houston’s ramshackle home had stood and saw nothing but bare, brown earth, he started to shake.

“Oh, God,” he said, swallowing his panic.

“Hey, there!”

Jesse looked up. He recognized the owner of the bar from the night he’d heard Diamond sing.

“Whatcha doin’ back in this neck of the woods?” Morton Whitelaw asked, and slapped the hood of Jesse’s car. “Ain’t lost, are you?” He laughed heartily at his own joke.

“What happened to the house?” Jesse asked.

“Oh, that.” Morton stepped back and hawked, watching in satisfaction as his spit splattered against Jesse’s tire. “Hell, I tore that down for parking space right after I bought it. Didn’t want none of them damned Houston women showing back up to plague me. Guess it worked. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of any of them since.”

Jesse gripped the rim of his steering wheel and willed himself not to come unglued again. He’d just had his question answered, and he’d never even had to ask. She was gone. He leaned back and closed his eyes. She could be anywhere.

Suddenly he put the car into reverse and backed away, eager to put as much distance as possible between himself and Cradle Creek, Tennessee.

He drove toward home with a tear in his soul, and every breath he took widened it just enough to let in the pain.

11

Diamond’s feet hurt, but
not as much as her heart. She’d known that leaving Jesse wouldn’t be easy, but she’d never known it would be this painful. Behind her a man laughed, and she jerked around, expecting to see Jesse’s smiling face. But it wasn’t him, and the knowledge that she’d never see him smile at her again made the sick feeling inside her deepen. Oh, Diamond knew that sooner or later their paths would cross. She just prayed that it would be later, when she’d learned better how to live with the pain.

Nashville wasn’t small, but the circle of people within the country music industry was. Like a large family with roots branching out in all directions, the singers and musicians played out their individual careers until something called them home—whether a tragedy or a celebration—and then they would come together, sharing their common interests in the music they so loved.

The man who had laughed saw Diamond’s interest in him. He tipped his hat and winked, still wearing his smile, and then shrugged and sighed as Diamond walked away.

She blocked out all thoughts of Jesse and ducked her head in reflex to the wind that bit into her cheeks as she turned the street corner. She looked up once to get her bearings and then continued walking, praying that today she’d get an audition.

The month since she’d walked out on Jesse had been without doubt the longest of her life. And the job she’d been so certain she’d get had never materialized. One club after another, one promised audition after another, had come and gone. The lines of girls just like her who came to Nashville to be a star were too long to get through alone. For the first time in her life, Diamond was about to be lost in the crowd. Here she was no different from all the other singers who’d bet their life on a dream.

Although that came as a shock, an even greater shock had come when she’d made the rounds on Music Row and discovered that no one had ever heard of Diamond Houston—or her demo. Oh, they’d heard of Tommy Thomas. Everyone knew the great Jesse Eagle’s manager. But Tommy hadn’t pitched her demo to any of the houses as he’d claimed.

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile as she passed a storefront window.
It’s no more than you deserve,
she told her reflection, refusing to recognize the despair on her face. She had gambled and lost. She had bet the pot on someone else’s promises instead of trusting in herself.

She turned away from the window and continued down the street knowing that she’d never let that happen again. She’d come to Nashville because of a dream. She wasn’t ready to give up on that dream—or herself. Not yet.

A sign overhead swung sharply in the wind, squeaking a bit on rusty hinges as Diamond walked past. Its lonesome sound echoed the feelings inside her. She’d never been so alone in her life; but she’d also never been so certain that what she’d done had been right. The last thing she wanted was to endanger Jesse’s career. At least now that she was gone, his future would be safe. As for hers…She shuddered. Hers was too vague to dwell upon.

The first drops of rain began to fall. Diamond closed her eyes and swallowed, remembering another rainy day and the loving that had come from it. Angry with herself for being so maudlin, she yielded to impulse and ducked into the first shop available to get out of the weather and away from the memories. But it had been a mistake. The shop she entered was a music store. And she wasn’t prepared for what she heard.

Lies
…
and lying lovers
…

“Oh, my God!” Diamond gasped, and leaned against an aisle shelf. It was the song on Jesse’s album—their song! She stared blindly at the life-size cutout of Jesse Eagle standing at the end of the aisle and then looked too long at the slow, sexy smile he was wearing on his face. The room began to tilt.

“Are you all right, miss?” a clerk asked, and grabbed her arm as she swayed.

Diamond’s face was pale, but the look in her eyes was that of a cornered animal.

“Everywhere I go, you’re there,” she said, staring at the poster, and then buried her face in her hands.

“Should I call an ambulance?” the clerk asked.

“What? No!” She was shaking as she finally came to her senses enough to realize that someone was speaking to her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed that she’d caused a scene. “I’m just a little bit tired…and a whole lot lost.”

She took a deep breath and managed a smile to reassure him.

Allen Tillet considered himself quite a ladies’ man and had taken this job in the music store for the sole purpose of meeting girls. But his teenage repertoire of tricks and pick-up lines did not include any skills in how to break the ice with women. He watched the tall blonde woman walk away and for the first time in his life wished he were older—and someone else. If he were, he’d help that woman find her way, and how!

Diamond sorted through the display of Jesse’s new release, searching for the credits on the tape as well as the CD. She picked up one of each and paid for them, ignoring how much their purchase depleted her precious savings. Her hands shook as she tore away the cellophane, then her eyes scanned the small, almost illegible print in quiet desperation. And when she found the listing of credits for “Lies” and began to read, she gasped, then blanched, then started to smile. The smile turned into a chuckle and then into a laugh.

Allen Tillet shuddered and wondered if he should call the manager. The woman was laughing, but she didn’t seem happy at all, not with the tears he saw running down her face.

Diamond dropped her purchases into the trash and then walked out of the store.

Okay, Diamond, she told herself, you’ve learned a lesson the hard way. You bet your hand on something that wasn’t yours. You didn’t have a damned thing in writing; all you had was a man’s word. Obviously that man doesn’t know the meaning of honor.

She smiled once more as she thought of the repercussions he would suffer. And it was no more than he deserved. If she knew Jesse—and she’d bet her life that she did—he was going to be furious with his manager.

The omission of her name on Jesse’s album was just the last of a long line of slights she’d suffered at the hands of Tommy Thomas. But no more, she told herself. No more.

Al Barkley knocked on the door and then shivered, pulling his coat collar higher around his neck as he waited for someone to answer. He burst past Henley as the door opened, unwilling to wait for an invitation to enter.

“Mr. Barkley, do come in,” Henley said, allowing a slight drawl to surface in his voice as the fiddle player from Jesse’s band made a less than proper entrance.

“I gotta talk to Jesse,” Al said, shifting from one booted foot to the other.

“He’s in the music room,” Henley said. “May I take your coat?”

Al shook his head as he started down the hallway. “I won’t be staying long. Thanks anyway, Henley.”

Henley nodded and then felt obliged to give Al a parting warning. “He isn’t…at his best.”

Al turned. A look lingered between them, and then Al spoke. “He ain’t gonna get any better after I show him this,” he said, holding up a cassette and a CD of their new album.

Henley frowned and sighed. It never failed. When something went wrong, all sorts of things followed.

“Hey, Jesse!”

The presence of someone other than Henley was unexpected. Jesse jumped. His heart thumped twice with extra fervor, then calmed as he spun from his stance at the window to stare blankly at the unexpected arrival of his fiddle player.

Al’s expression fell. Everything he’d been about to say completely disappeared from his mind. All he could do was stare in shock at the absence of life on Jesse’s face.

The joy with which Jesse had lived each day was gone, as was the light in his eyes. Despair had changed the laugh wrinkles at the corners of his eyes into deep lines of worry. Long, sleepless nights and too many skipped meals were evident in his gaunt face.

“What do you want?” Jesse asked.

Al shrugged. There was no easy way to do this. He handed him the cassette and CD.

“Seen these?” Al asked.

Jesse turned away. “No.”

“I think you oughta,” Al said.

“What the hell for?” Jesse asked. “Tommy’s already called and told me it’s riding a bullet toward number one.”

The lethargy in Jesse’s movements as well as his voice worried Al. What was this news going to do to him?

“I still think you need to see,” Al said. “I don’t think Tommy told you quite everything. It ain’t like you requested, buddy. And for her sake, someone needs to fix it.”

It was the word
her
that got his attention. There was only one female in Jesse’s life. And as badly as he hated to admit it to himself, although she was no longer present, anything concerning her still concerned him.

“What the hell?” Jesse said.

He took what Al offered and absently turned past the picture of himself. It had been taken when he was a different and happier man. He had no desire to see himself and be reminded of that time…or of her.

At first, his glance was desultory, scanning the highlights of each song with casual indifference. And then he straightened. His expression changed to interest, and then to a slow, growing anger.

“The sorry son of a bitch,” he said softly.

Al nodded. “I didn’t think you was a part of this,” he said. “I told the boys this wasn’t what you wanted. Even Mack was pissed, and he’s still a little sore around the edges where she’s concerned.”

“Me? A part of this? Is that what they think?” Jesse slumped against the window seat and focused on a bare spot between the area rug and the wall.

Al shrugged. “Well hell, Jesse. At first we didn’t know what to think. You ain’t never crawled into a hole this deep before.”

“I never needed to before,” he said. He turned away. He was still sick of himself and the way he came unglued just thinking about her.

“Dammit, Jesse. Ain’t there somethin’ we can do? Me and Rita feel bad about what happened. Didn’t you find any signs of her when you went back to—”

“Not a trace,” Jesse said. He held up the tape and CD, his hand shaking with suppressed anger as he waved them in Al’s face. “And if this is any indication of what was going on, it’s no damned wonder. She probably feels like I stabbed her in the back.”

“Oh, hell no, boss!” Al said. “She knew it wasn’t you. We all did. Why, when she first came, ol’ Tommy said to…”

He flushed a deep shade of red, embarrassed by what he’d just admitted as his words trailed off into silence.

“Just what the hell did Tommy say, anyway?” Jesse asked.

Al turned away. “I done said too much as it is. I ain’t talkin’ anymore. Whatever trouble is between you and Tommy needs to be worked out between you two. You don’t need no third party, let alone the whole damn band, interferin’.”

Jesse’s fury was barely contained. It was the first time in weeks that he’d felt any emotion at all save that of pain. And this was so intense, it was overwhelming. He spun around and flung the cassette and CD across the room, splintering plastic.

“It will be settled,” he said.

Al ducked his head. “Well, I’d better be goin’,” he said. He started out the door and then stopped and turned. “Jesse?”

Jesse looked up.

“We’re all real sorry,” Al said. “And the boys said to tell you that if there was anything they could do, just to let them know.”

Jesse swallowed. Al and the other men in his band were as close to him as brothers. And like brothers, he got along with some better than others. But when push came to shove, they were, after all, family.

He nodded. “Tell them I said thanks. And if they should happen to hear anything about her…”

Al nodded. “It’s done.”

Henley entered the room just as Al was leaving. He looked at the broken cassette tape and the splintered CD cover and then up at Jesse.

“I’m going out,” Jesse said. “I don’t know for sure what time I’ll be back.”

Henley frowned. An argument was on the tip of his tongue when Jesse went on.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not going off just to get drunk as a skunk. Not ever again.” The lines around his mouth tightened. “But I
am
going after a skunk. And I won’t be back until I find the bastard and skin him alive.”