Somehow, though, he’d never taken seriously her desire to be up there on the stage, earning her own applause. For him, the gestures had been an indulgence. For her, they had been an inspiration. He’d thought time, a little coaxing and a few breath-stealing kisses would change her mind. She’d found his inability to recognize and accept her dream more annoying than her mom’s.
After all, Mary Jensen had had a tough life. She was practical to the very core. Harlan Patrick, however, was supposed to be Laurie’s soul mate, the man in whom she’d confided her hopes and dreams all her life. The discovery that he’d merely been indulging what he called “her little fantasies” had brought on one of the most heated fights they’d ever had.
Why hadn’t he been able to understand that singing was simply something she had to do with the gift God had given her? He’d let her—let her, she thought indignantly—sing in the neighboring towns if that’s what she wanted, but Nashville had been out of the question. His ultimatum had been phrased in a generous, condescending tone that had set her teeth on edge. As if the decision were his to make, she’d thought as she turned on her heel and walked out of his life for good.
In one way she was grateful. It had made it easier to say goodbye, to head for Nashville without looking back. She’d dug in her heels, too, even when the going had been tough and she’d been waiting tables to make ends meet. Knowing that he’d welcome her back with an I-told-you-so smile had driven her to stay the course.
It had been two long, lonely years before she’d been discovered by her agent, but then things had happened so quickly it had left her reeling. She’d captured the Horizon Award for up-and-coming stars with her first album, a Grammy and a CMA Award with her second. She’d gone from a show-starter for the superstars to a concert tour of her own that had broken box-office records. In no time, it seemed, every single debuted at the top of the charts and every album went gold.
Only then, with rave reviews and money in her pocket, had she gone back to Los Piños. It was the only time she’d seen Harlan Patrick in the five years since she’d left. She was home just long enough to discover that the chemistry between them was as explosive as ever and that he was every bit as bullheaded as he’d been the day she walked out. He’d actually thought that she’d be ready to walk away from it all now that she’d proved to herself she could do it, as if it had been some cute little game she’d been playing. The man could infuriate her faster than anyone else on earth.
Then, just a few weeks after their reunion, she’d discovered she was pregnant. From that moment on, all she’d been able to think about was keeping the baby a secret from Harlan Patrick. She’d been able to walk away from him not just once, but twice. Could she do it again, especially with a baby in the picture? She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength or even the will.
For the first few months of her pregnancy, it had been simple enough to avoid his calls and keep the secret. She was either in Nashville or on the road and she was extremely careful that no one—not even the very discreet Val—had any idea she was going to have a child. Val knew only that she had no desire to speak to one Harlan Patrick Adams, which pretty much assured that there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d get through to her. Eventually he’d gotten the message and given up. Not even Harlan Patrick was stubborn beyond all reason. Nor was he a masochist. It hadn’t taken all that long for the Adams pride to kick in and assure her of a reprieve from his pestering.
When Laurie could no longer disguise her expanding waistline, she had scheduled five months in seclusion at her home on the outskirts of Nashville. She’d let Val and no one else in on the secret and let her assistant run interference.
“She’s working on songs for her next album,” Val had told any and all callers, including Laurie’s agent. That had kept him, if not the media, satisfied.
Now she had Amy Lynn to remember her childhood sweetheart by, and it was both the