Chapter Five
Nashville
“M orning sickness gone?” Dr. Matthews asked, glancing at Savannah as he rolled forward on his low stool to approach where she lay, stomach bared, on the examination table.
Savannah Webb nodded. “Never had it bad, but the nausea’s definitely gone” she said, flinching as he placed the chilly fetal Doppler on her belly.
Instinctively, she held her breath as her obstetrician moved the flat cold ultrasound around, placing the wand in different spots on her flat stomach to get the best position to listen to the heartbeat.
She didn’t want to hear the heartbeat. Didn’t want to think of the baby. Didn’t want a baby. But here she was, having another checkup, trying to buy time and figure out what to do when time was the very thing she couldn’t buy… not if she was going to end the pregnancy.
She should just end the pregnancy.
“Sounds good,” Dr. Matthews said, lifting the Doppler and giving her an encouraging smile. “Nice strong heartbeat.”
She didn’t smile back. She couldn’t speak. She’d vowed she’d never do this again, go through this again. And yet here she was. Pregnant. Again.
She’d ended the pregnancy last time. That decision, two years ago, had been brutal. It tore her up, haunting her. She’d vowed then, never to go that route again. But here she was, thirty, single, and pregnant again.
“Any questions?” Dr. Matthews asked.
How about, how had it happened this time? She’d been so careful, was so zealous about protection.
But obviously not careful enough.
She shook her head, just wanting to get this over with. Wanting to get the information she needed and get out of here. “No.”
“Well, you’re entering the honeymoon phase now. Second trimester is generally the easiest part of pregnancy. Your energy should be back, and sex shouldn’t be a problem, either. In fact, lots of women say sex is better now than before they were pregnant.” The doctor gestured. “Let your partner know that he won’t hurt you, or the baby. Sometimes men get worried about that.”
Noah would be one of the men who worried about something like that. Noah was a good man. He’d marry her if he knew she was pregnant with his baby.
He couldn’t know.
But then, she hadn’t told Bear, either.
“Are you taking your prenatals?” the doctor asked, rolling back on his stool to reach for his iPad. The medical group had given up paper in favor of e-files. Apparently, everyone had gone electronic.
Savannah wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But then, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore, was she?
She sat up and pulled her top down, covering her stomach. “Yes,” she said, answering the doctor. “Taking the vitamins. They make me queasy.”
“They can. And the iron in them might constipate you.”
“And they do.”
The doctor smiled at her. “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep the baby. I know it was a difficult decision, what with your career. But babies travel. Your little one will get used to life on the road.”
Savannah’s smile never wavered. There was no way she could ask Dr. Matthews about options now. The laws had changed. She’d have to go somewhere far from here to have the procedure done. “And who is going to want to see a pregnant country singer on stage?”
“I’m certain you’ll figure out how to dress to hide it as long as possible.”
She slid off the table, smoothed her skirt down over her slim hips. They should be slim. She’d perfected starving herself. All the new country-western stars were thin. She wasn’t a star yet, but she was thin, too. It was just a matter of time now before she hit it big. Her agent even said she was getting some traction. Her new record was getting played more than the first one had. With a little luck and continued hard work, she was aiming to hit the charts this time.
So no, there was no room for a baby in her life. She was just thirty. She had plenty of time for babies later… should she even feel inclined to be maternal.
But to end another pregnancy?
She winced, uneasy. Her parents would die if they knew. Her dad was a pastor, and her mom was holier than him. Which was why she’d told no one about her pregnancy two years ago and wasn’t about to tell anyone about this one, either.
But Noah would want the baby…
Savannah suppressed the little voice, not wanting to think about Noah, aware that he deserved better. Aware that he deserved someone like him… someone loyal, loving, honest, kind.
Bear hadn’t been kind. Bear had been tough. Bear had been fierce. Beautiful. Sexual. He’d been so unbelievably good in bed. She’d loved it. Loved the way he didn’t take her attitude. Loved the way he tied her up, made her hot, made her come. She’d loved dancing with him. Loved walking with him. Running to him, from him, loved everything about him…
Until Tulsa.
Her eyes stung, and she blinked hard and leaned forward to pick up her purse. Couldn’t cry, wouldn’t cry. Stupid to cry over things she couldn’t change.
Bear was the past. Noah was the present, and Noah was a good man. He tried hard to make her happy. That had to count for something.
Dr. Matthew’s stool squeaked as he stood up, iPad under his arm. “We’ll see you next month then. The front desk will get you on the schedule.” He was heading to the door, reaching for the knob.
Tell him, tell him, tell him…
You don’t want the baby. You need an abortion. Tell him…
Savannah cleared her throat. The doctor glanced at her. She hesitated, wishing she didn’t care what people thought of her. Wishing she didn’t care what she thought of herself.
Dr. Matthews waited, giving her a moment.
She had dreams, big dreams. There were things she wanted, places she wanted to go…
“Everything okay?” the doctor prompted, his hand still on the knob.
She nodded, slowly. “Yes.”
But she sounded nervous, uncertain.
The doctor frowned and, pushing up his glasses, he turned away from the door to focus on her. “You’re sure?” he said.
Tell him.
Tell him.
“Dr. Matthews,” she started, then stopped, her throat dry, her mouth like cotton. “I… I… haven’t told him.” She reached up to push long honey hair from her face, tucking it back behind an ear. “The dad. He doesn’t know.” She frowned, struggling to find the words. “I don’t… know.”
The doctor’s forehead creased. “You don’t know how to tell him?”
She struggled to swallow. Her mouth was so dry. She licked her lips. Hated herself, hated what a coward she was.
“Yes,” she said, grasping at straws, unable to say what she wanted to say. That she couldn’t do this, couldn’t have this baby, and yet at the same time, she couldn’t bear to think about the life she’d be snuffing out.
*
The doctor’s expression gentled. “Creating life is a beautiful thing. I am sure your boyfriend will be thrilled. He might need a minute, but with time, he’ll be just as happy as you are.”
She nodded, glad she hadn’t told him the truth, glad she didn’t have to witness the disappointment in his eyes. He was a doctor of life, not death.
“You’ll be fourteen weeks next week,” he said.
She nodded.
“You’re not showing much yet, but you will be soon. My suggestion is to talk to your partner today. Go out to dinner. Make it a celebration. If he’s the kind of man I think he is, he’ll be pleased.”
Leaving the medical office, Savannah walked slowly to her car, sliding on her sunglasses to shade her eyes from the intense Tennessee sun.
She’d vowed she’d never do this again, go through this again. And yet here she was. Pregnant. Again.
There was no room for a baby in her life. Not now, not when she was beginning to have doors open and opportunities present themselves.
But to end another pregnancy?
Her parents would die if they knew. Fortunately, they’d never know. They weren’t close, and she hadn’t talked to them about anything real or important in years. Probably not since Bear’s accident.
She hadn’t told Bear about their baby, either. At least, not initially.
Savannah reached her car and slid behind the steering wheel, remembering how she’d told Bear what she’d done, how the truth had come out in a fight, a terrible fight, and that had been the end of her and Bear.
It was what she’d wanted at the time, her pain seemingly as great as his, only later… later she realized she’d made the two worst mistakes of her life—ending the pregnancy and telling Bear. If she hadn’t told Bear, they might have worked things out. They might still be together today, because that was what she’d wanted. She’d loved him fiercely, passionately, and in a fit of passion, she’d screamed what she’d done, wanting him to feel her pain.
She’d been successful, because he had.
Now she was facing another impossible decision. Noah could at least provide for the baby—should she choose to keep it.
Noah would take care of them both. That was the kind of man he was. Loyal, honest, kind. If only he was her type.
She wasn’t attracted to kind men. Bear had been gorgeous and tough, but she wouldn’t have called him kind. Bear, being Bear, was ambitious and fearless, but not patient, and not doting. He’d been loyal, though. He’d also always been honest. He’d never cheated on her, and yet he’d never made her his world, or his focus. No, that had always been his career. He’d loved bull riding more than he’d loved her.
Savannah turned on her favorite country satellite channel, the Garth Brooks channel, and tried to quiet her thoughts. Her head ached and she felt heartsick. She didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to forget.
Once home, back at the apartment she shared with Noah, Savannah opened her fridge, studied her beverage options, wanting a glass of wine, thinking it sounded really good, but she went for one of her peach ice teas instead.
Collapsing on her couch in the tiny but elegant living room, she sipped her tea and stared up at the ceiling fan, doing her best to avoid thinking of anything, not wanting to remember the doctor’s pleased expression as he listened to the baby’s heartbeat. Not wanting to remember how shitty she felt walking out of his office.
Men should be the ones to have the babies. Men should have to turn themselves inside and out for reproduction. As it stood, they had things too easy. Get hard, ejaculate. There you go. Done.
She squirmed against the cushions, trying to get more comfortable. Her bra hurt. Her boobs were way too tender. She hated having Noah touch them, but she couldn’t tell him why she didn’t want him to touch them. And he was a boob man. Loved to pinch and knead and suck.
The pressure was back in her chest, the one that made it hard to breathe.
She didn’t want to be the bad guy again. The bitch. The ruthless, relentless ball-breakin’ female who only cared about herself… even though the description resembled her to a T .
Tears burned, itching her eyes, scratching at her throat, begging to get free. If only she didn’t have such big dreams. If only she could be like other women, happy with hearth and home, a man, and kids.
If only she didn’t need to sing and make everyone sit up and listen. God, she loved it when they got quiet and listened with their hearts and not their ears. She could feel it when the audience got it. She could feel it when they got her.
She was a good singer, too. She had a good voice. God-given talent. She booked gigs and had fans and traveled nine months out of the year doing her version of the circuit—opening for the big names at the big state fairs and playing the smaller clubs and honky-tonk bars in between.
The door opened, closed, footsteps sounded in the hall, boots against slate tile.
Noah was home.
“Baby, you home?” he called from the entry.
She half-closed her eyes, listening to him set his keys down on the hall table, picturing him setting his hat next to the keys. Cowboys didn’t hang their hats, they stored them flat. She hadn’t known that when she’d first met Bear.
“In the living room,” she called.
His footsteps quickened. He entered the room, tall, broad shouldered, his thick dark blond hair cropped close, emphasizing the strong angular lines of his face.
Leaning over her, he smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, and then her mouth. “How did things go at the doctor?”
“Good.” She smiled up at him, her smile artificially bright, hiding the tumult within.
She’d told him the doctor appointment was about her throat, her voice, and she’d told herself she did it to protect him, because Noah wasn’t duplicitous. He didn’t lie. He didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t. Not like her.
“No real damage to those vocal cords?” he asked, kissing her forehead again.
“Just a little strain, no polyp.”
“What are you supposed to do for it?”
“Avoid smoking, drinking caffeine. The usual.”
“But then it should be okay? No long-term damage.”
She wouldn’t even go there. She forced a smile. “Nope.”
“That’s great news.” He smiled at her and then dropped a kiss on her lips this time, blue eyes crinkling. “I think we should go out somewhere tonight. Someplace special. Celebrate.”
Celebrate.
She lifted a hand to his face, touched his cheek, his skin warm, a hint of beard rasping her fingertips. He had a nice face. It matched his pure heart. “We don’t need to go out.”
“But, baby, this is a big deal. You were so worried. Now you can still go on tour in a couple weeks.”
Hurt just to hear Noah call the six-week, play-for-no-pay trip through the southwest her tour . She’d never imagined that after seven years in this business she’d still be struggling, sleeping on a retired school bus with the musicians while they drove all night to get to the next gig.
“I’m not so sure I want to go,” she said, sitting up, rubbing the top of her head.
She wasn’t nauseous anymore, but she still got headaches. She’d be glad when they stopped. None of the pain relievers touched them, but then, she didn’t take the strong stuff. Just in case they hurt the… you know.
Noah sat down next to her, then pulled her onto his lap. “Why don’t you want to go? You love performing. You were born to sing.”
She was so close to him she could see the bits of green in his blue eyes. When Noah was emotional his eyes turned aquamarine. They weren’t turquoise now, but they were beautiful. He was beautiful. And patient. Supportive. Interested in her, and her life, and her dreams. He was everything a girl wanted. Hell, he was everything her parents wanted for her. The man had faith. He prayed.
If only she’d met him before Bear. Things would have been different.
Yeah. She’d be married by now, with three or four little kids running around, tugging on her, crying for juice or animal crackers or whatever it was kids cried for.
But that wasn’t the life she wanted. Staying home, taking care of kids, while Noah traveled on his circuit, riding bulls…
She didn’t want to be home. She wanted the stage, the lights, the microphone. She wanted everyone to know her, to love her music. To love her.
Her daddy used to caution her against desiring fame, saying that fame was Satan’s province. That no matter what one accomplished, it might not ever be enough.
Her daddy might be right about that.
She’d spent all these years in Nashville, and she could draw a nice little crowd on the right night to the right bar, but she wasn’t a star.
She wanted to be a star.
And she would be. It was just a matter of getting out there, working hard, and being in the right place at the right time.
She leaned forward, kissed Noah. “Okay, let’s go out. You decide where. I’ll go shower and change.”
In the shower, Savannah turned her back to the warm hard spray and used her favorite scented gel, sliding the foaming cleanser over her breasts and belly, down her legs, under her arms as the hot water pulsed against her back.
In the morning, she’d call the clinic Dr. Matthews’s nurse gave her and schedule the appointment. She’d schedule it for next week, toward the end of the week, when Noah would be gone. He’d never know. It’d be fine. Better for both of them.
The bathroom door opened. Noah entered, whistling. The sink faucet turned on. She could see him through the shower’s thick bubbled glass standing at the sink, lathering his face with shaving cream. He always shaved before he went out at night even though he’d shaved that morning. Noah was Mr. Clean. Make that squeaky clean .
She laughed to herself, turned away, facing the showerhead to wash off the body gel.
She’d never liked guys like Noah. They were just too nice, too predictable, and predictable was boring.
Bad boys intrigued her. Bad boys kept her guessing. Bad boys were hard on her heart, but for some reason that appealed. It made love feel active. Like she was having to do something, which made her feel something, which made her feel. It was hard to feel sometimes.
She was never supposed to be with Noah this long. He was supposed to be a rebound. Just like the guy before him, and the guy before that. Noah was merely a way to get over Bear.
But she hadn’t got over him, had she?
She still dreamed about Bear at night, and woke hoping to find him in her bed.
He wasn’t. He’d left Nashville and her.
Not true. She’d left him, and then he’d left Nashville. And her. But it had been her decision to break it off. Her decision to want something else, someone else, someone not… broken.
Just like it’d been her decision to terminate the pregnancy two years ago when Bear had been in the hospital, in a coma after his accident.
Savannah turned off the shower, opened the shower door, and reached for a towel.
Noah was there, putting one into her hand. “Thanks, babe,” she said, mopping her face and her arms and legs before wrapping it around her.
As she left the shower, a naked Noah stepped in, taking her place. Her gaze swept him, assessing.
He saw and lifted an eyebrow.
She made a face at him as she went to the sink and mirror, pulling the elastic band out of her hair and letting the long, artfully highlighted strands fall past her shoulders, down her back.
She loved her hair, spent a fortune on it, and never regretted it. She’d always had long, golden hair. It was her trademark.
Like half of Nashville. But whatever.
Applying moisturizer, Savannah saw Noah in the mirror’s reflection, too. He wasn’t as tall as Bear, but he had a great body—big broad back, thickly muscled, tapering to narrow hips and his small firm ass. He wasn’t hung like Bear, but at least he wasn’t a pencil dick like the guy before him. Ugh. Jared or Jeremy or whatever his name was. He’d been a huge mistake.
Noah wasn’t a mistake. But was he forever?
Bear was going to be forever, until he got hurt. Why did he have to get hurt?
She’d gotten the abortion when he was in his coma. The doctors weren’t thinking he’d survive, and if he did, he’d never be the same. She couldn’t handle such devastating news; couldn’t cope with everything they were saying. It was better to end the pregnancy now, early, and she convinced herself that ending the pregnancy was the best thing for both of them. But later, when Bear was rehabbing, and the doctors told him it was unlikely that he’d ever be able to father a child, she felt guilty. Sick.
What had she done to him?
The months following the accident were hard. All those surgeries and therapy sessions—physical and occupational—the appointments filled the day. She stopped working so she could take care of him and play chauffeur, driving him from one appointment to another. She hated it. Hated how the accident changed Bear, too.
As time passed, he retreated from the world, retreating from her, disappearing inside himself and until they only had silence. Anger. Bear said he just needed time, but Savannah, having already spent six months on the roller coaster aftermath, wanted off the ride. She wanted out. She wanted normal. She wanted the Bear before he was hurt, not this new Bear that couldn’t even reach the bathroom sometimes without losing control.
Leaving him at the end of nine months seemed efficient and practical. It was the clearest way to an end—literally.
She couldn’t have a new beginning without the end, so she left, but she left still conflicted, still more than a little in love with him. One day, she’d get him out of her system. He was just a man after all. To help move forward, she’d find a new man. What was the expression, the fastest way to get over a man is to get under a new one?
She wanted sex, real sex, again. Wanted to get laid. Not cuddling, or romantic love making. But an old fashioned, hard, hot session on all fours. Or up against a wall. Or bent over the tailgate of a truck.
She wanted sex like she and Bear used to have.
So, she’d spend six months dating and being pursued—Noah being the most determined—and she’d played him and the others until Noah told her to make a choice. If she couldn’t commit to him, he was done. He loved her but didn’t enjoy being strung along. She liked this forceful Noah. He reminded her of the old Bear. So, she dropped the others and moved in with Noah, but she still hadn’t gotten Bear out of her system.
Maybe she never would.