Chasing a Dream (4 page)

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Authors: Beth Cornelison

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Texas, #Nashville, #spousal abuse, #follow your dream, #country music, #musician, #award winning author, #Louisiana author, #escaping abuse, #overcoming past, #road story

BOOK: Chasing a Dream
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She lifted her chin. “Try me.”

“Wellerton.”

Her sculptured eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Never heard of it.” She peered over at him with a reluctant grin.

His own smug smile said,
I told you so
.

Her face brightened marginally as she shook her head. “And do you have a wife and cowbabies waiting for you back in Wallerton?”

“It’s Wellerton. And no. No wife, no cowbabies. Just an ex-girlfriend.”

When she turned to him, her gaze slid down his body then slowly back to his face. “Her loss.”

Even though she hadn’t touched him, his skin tingled in the wake of her visual caress. Heat erupted in his groin, and he gritted his teeth, fighting the flare of desire. Despite her compliment, he knew a tryst with a stranger couldn’t be further from her mind, and casual sex had never been his style. His conscience wouldn’t allow it.

Redirecting his thoughts down a safer path, he gave her a lopsided grin. “Do you have any other family?”

Her expression grew somber. “My parents died when I was fourteen, and my sister was killed when I was sixteen.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled while biting back the chuckle that fought to surface when she gave her ploy of the camper away. Despite his efforts, a grin split his face.

“What about y—” She stopped abruptly and furrowed her brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry. Truly. I’m not laughing at your loss.”

“Then what?”

“You lied.”

“What?” Her eyes widened with dismay.

“About the people driving the camper behind us.” Justin chuckled harder as her slip dawned on her, and she flushed a bright pink.

“I was—”

“They pulled off at an exit about ten miles back. I figured out the rest.”

Hazel eyes full of worry and vulnerability turned to him, fueling the intuition that lurked in the recesses of his mind. Shoving his suspicions aside, he covered her hand on the steering wheel and brushed her knuckles with his thumb. “But don’t panic, Tess. I’m not a criminal.”

She yanked her hand away and locked her gaze on the road. “I bet you say that to all your victims.”

He laughed. “Yep. Every single one.”

Her scowl expressed her concern, and he regretted his teasing. Once again, her uncertainty pricked his curiosity.

“So why did you pick me up if you’re worried that I might be a bad seed?”

She hesitated, then the corner of her mouth curled up. “Your guitar.”

“Huh?”

“I figured a serial killer wouldn’t be carrying a guitar.” She cast him a sheepish grin.

“Then you haven’t heard of the great Nevada guitar murders?”

Her grin faltered, and her eyebrows snapped together. “What?”

When Justin grinned again, she scowled at him. “You’re not funny.” But the corner of her mouth twitched before she looked away.

The slight improvement in her disposition encouraged him. A success, no matter how small, still qualified as a success. Seeing the shift in her mood fed his need to fix her broken spirit.

“So if you’re headed to Nashville, may I presume that you’re a
country
musician?” She said the word as if it were something offensive.

“I take it you don’t like country music.”

“You’d be right.”

“What did country music ever do to you to earn such a bad rap?” He crossed his arms over his chest and settled back in his seat.

Tess gave him an unladylike snort. “Nothing, I guess.”

With that admission from her, Justin leaned forward to snap on the radio. He scanned the radio stations, under a disapproving glare from Tess, until he found a country station. When he swiveled to retrieve his guitar from the backseat, Tess clicked off the radio. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in a free concert.”

Studying her profile, he ignored her admonition and took out his guitar. He arranged the instrument, his prize possession ever since Rebecca had given it to him at age ten, and turned the radio on again. This time when Tess reached for the knob, he batted her hand away. She raised a startled gaze to meet his.

With a growl, she put her hand back on the steering wheel, her teeth clenched. A bouncy Garth Brooks tune came on the radio, and Justin sang and played along, grinning broadly as he watched Tess grimace.

He belted out the refrain about a long-necked bottle, and Tess groaned.

“Oh, God. Spare me!”

Justin chuckled and leaned closer to sing in her face, knowing his actions, no matter how they irritated her, kept her from dwelling on the unknown threat that rattled her earlier.

She glanced at him and grinned. “Oh, my woman left me, and my poor dog died,” Tess crooned to her own tune in a mocking, off-key howl.

He continued singing and playing, not only unperturbed, but amused by her teasing. When he sang louder, she matched his volume.

“My truck broke down. My beer is flat. I can’t find my cowboy hat!”

His laughter interrupted his duet with Garth, and a giggling Tess pressed a hand to her flushed cheek.

Warmth spread through him and puddled in his gut. A spark lit her eyes, rewarding his efforts to humor her. When the song ended and a ballad began, he reached for the radio knob.

Now Tess swatted his hand away. “Wait. That one sounds pretty.”

Sitting back, he studied her face, and a self-satisfied grin crept to his lips. He picked up the melody on his guitar. The song was a duet, and whenever Tim McGraw sang with his wife, Justin added his voice. Tess glanced at him with the soft glow of intrigue reflected in her eyes. When the song ended, he turned off the annoying car dealership advertisement that followed. “So you approve of country ballads, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She flicked another glance at him. “You have a nice voice.”

The compliment caught Justin off guard, but he smiled his appreciation. “Thank you.” His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat before adding, “Your singing needs work.”

Now Tess laughed, a lilting, beautiful sound, sweeter to his ears than Faith Hill’s ballad. His stomach chose that moment to growl loud enough to wake the dead.

A grin still graced her lips when she faced him. “Hungry?”

Chuckling, he ducked his head. “Yeah, how’d you guess?” Except for the peanut butter crackers he’d devoured last night for supper, he’d not eaten since breakfast the previous day.

“Do you want to stop? There are several restaurants at this next exit.”

“This is your show, so you pick. I’m just along for the ride.”

His deferral to her preference seemed to startle her. “Well, uh, how about . . . hamburgers?” She made her suggestion tentatively, as if afraid to give the wrong answer.

“Fine by me.”

Puckering her brow, she added, “Can we make this quick? I don’t want to lose more time than we have to.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Why the rush?
he wanted to ask but swallowed the question.

As Tess took the exit and pulled in at a hamburger chain restaurant, Justin checked his cash reserves. He’d budgeted only so much money per week, needing his limited funds to last him until he reached Nashville and found employment somewhere. He’d have to maximize his lunch purchase with a minimum of outlay.

Any crowd the restaurant might have had at lunchtime had dispersed hours ago, and the drizzling rain apparently kept any late afternoon snackers away. Tess pulled into the deserted parking lot and cut the engine.

A frown darkened her face, and she bit her lip again. Only after she’d cast a wary glance around the empty lot did the tension in her expression relax. “I’m only going to use the restroom. I’ll meet you back here once you get your food, okay?”

He reached back for his hat and gave her a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

She wrinkled her nose as she peeked up at the dripping clouds then opened her door with a sigh.

Hustling out the passenger’s side, he splashed through the puddles, jogging toward the restaurant door beside her. They parted ways inside, and he stepped up to the counter to place his order.

A minute later, while he waited for his hamburgers, he saw her leave the restroom and stop at the outside door to watch the rain a moment before venturing back to the truck.

He glanced away only long enough to check the progress of the teenager filling his order, only long enough to see the girl stuff a bag of French fries in his sack and start wrapping his sandwiches. Then he looked back outside for Tess.

And his heart lurched in horror.

CHAPTER
THREE

 

 

Tess hadn’t seen the man coming.

One second she crossed the parking lot, keys in hand, eager to get out of the rain. The next second a strong hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. Another hand snaked around her waist, and a brutish arm hauled her up against a stout body.

Panic surged through her. Fear squeezed her chest. Her keys clattered to the pavement.

“Get in the car,” a deep, menacing voice ordered. Something hard jabbed her side. She heard a loud click, like the cocking of a gun. The man thrust her toward a blue sedan.

Acting on survival instinct alone, she twisted and fought as her captor shoved her toward the waiting car. Adrenaline strengthened her, but her certainty that she would die if she got in the sedan fueled her struggle.

The man’s grip around her middle tightened. His gun dug deeper into her ribs. The hand over her mouth suffocated her, and her lungs burned with the need for air. Clawing at his hand, she prayed for deliverance, for oxygen. When he lifted her from her feet, she thrashed wildly. She kicked the knees of her captor in a desperate battle for her freedom.

Suddenly, his grasp weakened. Asphalt bit her hands and knees as she crashed to the ground with a jarring thud. Ignoring the pain that streaked through her limbs, she groped frantically for her keys. Tears blurred her vision. The rush of blood in her ears muffled all but the drumming of her heartbeat.

She didn’t waste time wondering how she’d won her release. Focused only on fleeing, she searched futilely for her keys. Finally, her fingers touched metal. At the same time, a muscled arm wrapped around her waist again. The powerful man dragged her to her feet.

“No!” She wrenched around and flailed at the assailant who’d imprisoned her in his grip.

“Tess! It’s me!” Justin caught her wrists and held off her blows.

Confusion stilled her momentarily. A groan called her attention to the man sprawled on the pavement at her feet. Clutching the back of his head, the wounded stranger turned dark, feral eyes up to meet her stare. With a growl, he swiped a hand toward her feet. Justin jerked her by the wrists away from the sweep of the man’s arm.

She stumbled as her cowboy-savior tugged her toward the parked Jimmy. Her gaze locked in terror on the dark scowl of her would-be kidnapper. The face of evil. Her living nightmare. A chill slithered down her spine.

“Hurry, Tess!” Justin pulled harder on her arm.

The man pushed to his knees and grabbed for the gun he’d dropped when he’d lost his hold on her.

“Justin!”

Justin spun around at her cry. “Get in the truck!”

He ran back toward her assailant, but fear rooted her to the spot. Her cowboy reached the pistol just before the man’s fingers could close around the weapon. With a brisk kick, Justin sent the gun sliding across the pavement.

Another swing of his booted foot caught his opponent in the jaw. The man howled with rage, collapsed on the ground again, and held his injured face. Justin fled for the Jimmy. “Tess, get in! Let’s go!”

Jolted into action by his shout, she mashed the remote button on the key chain that unlocked the doors. She fumbled with the handle on the driver’s door, only to have him reach around her and yank it open.

He shoved her inside then followed, pushing her to the passenger seat. “I’ll drive.”

Snatching the keys from her, he jammed one in the ignition and threw the truck into reverse. The Jimmy’s tires slipped on the wet pavement before finding some traction and squealing as he peeled out of the parking lot.

The crack of a gunshot reverberated through the damp air. Tess screamed.

“Are you hit?” He glanced over, his eyes dark with concern.

Her body convulsed with fright. Her knees and hands stung. She registered these facts on some level, but shock rendered her mute.

“Tess? Are you hurt?” Justin asked again, his voice rising.

She managed a quick head shake then hugged herself to suppress the shudders ravaging her body. “How did he f-find me so f-fast?” Closing her eyes, she moaned. “Oh, God, I knew he’d find me.”

“What are you talking about, Tess? Are you saying you knew that guy?” Incredulity filled his voice.

She chewed her lip, remembering the black, evil eyes of her attacker. She rocked slowly, squeezing her arms more tightly around her. “Not him. But . . .”

“But what?” Justin guided the Jimmy on to the interstate, passing cars as he inched their speed up well past that of the other traffic. “What did he want, Tess?”

If the man had gotten her into the car . . .

If Justin hadn’t come along when he did . . .

If she’d been alone . . .

When she realized how close she’d come to dying, a whimper escaped her throat. What did it feel like to die? Would the man have let her suffer?

Knowing Randall wanted her dead was a whole different creature than actually experiencing a brush with death.

Drawing a shaky breath, she turned tearful eyes toward Justin. He’d saved her life. The reality of that truth seeped in through the thick veil of her terror.

Should she trust Justin with the truth? Didn’t he deserve to know what he’d gotten himself into? If he knew, she could convince him to save himself, to leave while he could. Was that what she wanted?

“Tess?”

With an effort, she forced her tongue to work. “He was going to kill me. Randall sent him.” “Some guy’s trying to
kill
you?” His expression said he wouldn’t have believed her if he hadn’t just witnessed her attack. She nodded. “I don’t understand how he found me so fast. I knew he would come after me, but— ”

“Christ.” Justin ran a hand through his hair, knocking off his Stetson, which tumbled to the floor of the backseat. “No wonder you were acting so jumpy.” He tapped his fist on the steering wheel and expelled a deep breath. “Maybe you should tell me exactly what’s going on here. Why is this guy . . . what’s his name? Randy?”

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