Nightchild

Chapter 13

The band was restless as they always were the last night of a gig. It was easy to lull into a laziness when staying in the same town for a week or longer. Just as they'd begin to relax, the inevitable nomadic truth would dawn and the road again awaited them. In a way, doing one-nighters was much easier on everyone; there was no chance or time to let defenses down, to become comfortable and succumb to a false sense of belonging or form relationships with people they'd soon leave behind.

They had only three days before having to appear at the dinner theater in Hot Springs then they'd go back to Dallas for a long and well deserved rest. The band members were not the only ones keyed up. Nate was strung tight, partly because of his hangover and partly because of the incredible tension he always felt at having to pack up and spend hours on their bus. But mostly, it was the nagging anxiety that had stung at him all day, wondering if Gentry Blythe MacLarren would deign to make an appearance.

Several times during the afternoon, Nate had toyed with the idea of calling Penny James at the Hyatt to ask if she knew how to reach the other woman, but he'd put the idea aside as desperate and definitely a last resort. He had called the hotel but no MacLarren was registered. Pride had not let him search further.

The day slipped by quickly. When it was time for Nate's performance, there was no sign of the redhead, no inquiries at the front desk. He asked Heathe to keep an eye out in the event she came later. The show seemed to last an interminably long time, unbearably so, answering the whistles and catcalls demanding more. Reluctantly, he went back on stage to sing several requests.

This feeling was uncharacteristic for Nate. Under normal circumstances, he'd have been thrilled to stay on stage all night if that's what the audience wanted. But now, he had to force himself as he did through the autograph session later. His throbbing head sent waves of searing pain through bloodshot eyes and keeping them lowered, he methodically signed pictures, posters, albums, napkins...all quickly, rushing on to the next without looking up. Finally, he glanced at what had appeared to be an endless line of fans and was relieved to see only two women left. An album was laid in front of him and without looking up he asked for a name.

"Gentry...Gentry Blythe MacLarren...but Red'll do."

A wide brimmed hat covered pinned up hair, hiding part of her face where it cocked over the brow. No wonder he hadn't noticed her before. Her tiny brunette friend was behind her, eagerly anticipating the scene that was about to be played out. But Nate wasn't at all sure he was going to oblige.

Without a word, he signed the album and handed it back. He felt at a disadvantage, like Blythe was playing a game at his expense, a game she was very adept at. Blankly, she stared silently into his eyes before moving aside for her friend.

"Hi! The name's Connie, but I'd like these to say 'to Bryan and Beau'," she said, laying down two photographs of Nate. Connie had absorbed every detail of the short exchange that had just passed between Nate Stevens and her best friend. Nothing ever escaped her and she knew that for some reason this man was offended. Now, so was Blythe who had slipped wordlessly off.

"We really enjoyed your performance. Beau, my husband, not Beau my son, he tried getting tickets for us ages ago when we first found out Blythe was coming for a visit...she's a really big fan of yours. But, you know, they sold out so fast...we were terribly lucky...a friend of Beau's had surgery and couldn't make it, so we got his tickets. I mean it wasn't lucky he had surgery, but we'd never have been able to get tickets otherwise." She paused for a breath. "Anyway, Blythe mentioned you'd offered to let her come backstage. I told her she was crazy if she didn't but she was afraid of hurting our feelings."

Twinges of guilt over his cold behavior towards Blythe crept to the surface and Nate looked past Connie but her friend was nowhere in sight.

Connie regarded him silently for a moment. "She does that sometimes...just goes off, runs away. I call her the runaway girl. If you'd like to see her, Beau was planning on taking us out for a little gambling and a lot of partying. Don't ever tell her I said this, but she's really an awful gambler. Gets started and can't stop. I've always thought someone needed to put a leash on that girl. Oh well," Connie sighed and shrugged, "last night was Blythe's first night here. She really hasn't seen the sights yet. We'll be at Circus Circus in about an hour."