The Bribe (Calamity Montana)

FOUR MONTHS LATER . . .

I was standing in the middle of the Calamity High School gymnasium in utter shock.

The rafters, the walls, and even the basketball hoops seemed to be cheering as I let the last note of the national anthem ring through the air. The sound of applause was deafening. The bleachers shook beneath the weight of hundreds of spectators on their feet. Clapping and whistles echoed off the shiny yellow floor.

Just like they did for the football team, the Calamity community showed up and showed up big to support the basketball team.

This was the third time I’d sung the country’s anthem for a home game, and with each, the crowd got into it even more. Or maybe that was just me.

I spun in a circle, giving everyone a wave, then walked toward the end of the gym as the Cowboys jogged by in their warm-ups.

“Good luck.” I raised my hand for a high five as the coach passed me on his way to the bench.

“Great job, Lucy!” someone hollered from the stands.

“Thank you.” My cheeks were flushed and my spirits soaring as I climbed the stairs, slid into my row and sat in the empty seat beside Duke.

“You got ’em pumped tonight.” He kissed my cheek. “Sounded great.”

“Show off,” Everly teased on my other side.

I laughed and elbowed her as I took the bottle of water Duke had waiting and gulped it down.

The sounds of dribbling basketballs, squeaking tennis shoes and spectator chatter surrounded us, chasing away the last of my nerves.

I wasn’t sure why I got nervous, but three times in a row, my stomach had been in knots when I’d stood behind the microphone. The anxiety was probably because I didn’t perform as much as I once had. Or because the faces smiling back at me were familiar. Or because I didn’t want to let down a single person in this community, the kids especially, with a subpar introduction to the game.

The reason aside, by the time I’d finished my bottle of water and the buzzer had sounded, signaling the start of the game, my feet were no longer bouncing and my hands had steadied.

It was the end of February and the Cowboys were poised to head to the playoffs for the State Class C Championship. There were only two home games left until the tournament started and they were penciled into the calendar at home. Duke and I had been to every home game this season. If the Cowboys made it to the championship, we’d caravan with the rest of Calamity to Bozeman to watch the final game.

“Do you want something from concessions?” Duke asked.

“Nachos and cheese pizza, please.”

Everly leaned forward. “I’ll take the hot dog she really wants but can’t eat.”

“Brat.” I elbowed her again.

“Be back.” Duke dropped a kiss to my lips and stood, returning waves and handshakes as he made his way down the stairs and disappeared to get our meal.

I rubbed my belly, not sure if the churning was still from nerves or if my hormones were making me sick. Morning sickness seemed to hit me hardest in the evenings, go figure. But at almost ten weeks pregnant, my doctor had assured me the nausea would soon begin to fade.

In the meantime, I craved the foods and beverages I couldn’t have. Hot dogs. Coffee. A cold ham and turkey sub sandwich. And sushi, not that we had a sushi place in Calamity, much to Everly’s dismay.

“Ooh, there’s Kerrigan.” She pointed five rows below ours where Kerrigan was waving at us from her seat beside her parents.

She held up her fingers, thumb to her ear, pinky to her lips, and mouthed, “Call me.”

Everly and I both nodded.

The three of us had become good friends over the past four months. Kerrigan had been incredibly understanding after the incident at the farmhouse—and the fact that I’d lied to her about my identity—and had let me out of my lease.

I’d still paid her through the end of our agreement, despite moving in with Duke before the wedding. And though the farmhouse sat empty at the moment—maybe it was cursed—Kerrigan did have a new tenant in another one of her properties. Everly.

Kerrigan had cleaned up the studio apartment above the space she’d been converting into the women’s gym and Everly had been in need of a new address.

My best friend and I had lived together all our lives. That wasn’t changing.

Our lives in Nashville were over. Everly hadn’t even returned to pack her things. We’d had our belongings shipped to Calamity—on the label’s dime. They’d been kissing our asses these past few months, ever since Blake had discovered Scott’s behavior.

Just thinking that asshole’s name made my nostrils flare.

Maybe if he’d come clean, we would have learned about Jennifer before it had escalated so far. Maybe we could have prevented Meghan’s death. But he’d used Jennifer and tipped her fragile mind over the edge.

Considering all that she’d put me through, pitying her was an odd emotion to accept. So I did my best not to think about how differently things could have been and focused on making the best of a terrible situation.

When I’d found out about Scott’s behavior with my backup singers, I’d made a phone call to Sunsound’s CEO. I’d told him that if I wasn’t let out of my contract, penalty free, I’d take my information on Scott to the press—to every morning, evening and nightly news show that would let me—and drag his and the label’s name through bison shit.

He’d agreed immediately, fired Scott—whose wife, I’d learned, was in the process of divorcing him and taking every penny of his worth—then offered both me and Everly an album deal.

Everly had declined. Whatever desire she’d had to be a professional singer had vanished. Whenever I asked her about it, she changed the subject. Whenever I invited her to sing with me and the band at Jane’s, she invented conflicting plans.

But I could understand her feelings. I’d shut myself off from the music for a while too, and maybe it would come to her in time.

Maybe she just needed someone to inspire her to sing again, like Duke had for me.

I’d walked away from Sunsound too and into the arms of their biggest competitor. Last week, I’d inked a two-album deal with one of the top country music record labels in the country and this time, the contract was on my terms. My songs with my arrangements would be recorded in my new studio, the one Duke and I were adding on to the house.

I had no deadline or pressure to write. When I was ready, I’d record. There’d be no tour. No press exhibitions. Just me and the music. Any funds they would have reserved for a concert tour would be spent on marketing.

If I had a few hits land on the radio, I’d call it a success. The fame and flash of entertaining had lost its appeal for me, much like it had Everly, but I wasn’t ready to give up the music.

The only concerts I’d be performing would be here in Calamity. At least until after the baby was born.

Duke strode across the floor, his arms loaded with food. His faded jeans molded to his bulging thighs with every stride. His biceps strained at his sleeves. My stomach growled and I licked my lips—for the man and the food.

My appetite for him never seemed to be satisfied, which was probably why we’d gotten pregnant less than a month after we’d married at the courthouse in town.

Everly had been my maid of honor. Travis had been Duke’s best man. I’d worn a white, sleeveless satin gown, the dress sleek and sexy and elegant and simple. The neckline had come to my collarbones in the front, but the back had opened in a plunging scoop that revealed the length of my spine. Duke had stunned in a charcoal suit that I’d ordered custom made from a tailor in Bozeman. I’d ripped that suit off Duke’s body without remorse hours after the judge had pronounced us husband and wife.

He was delicious, my husband, whether he was wearing Italian silk or American flannel.

“Here you go, Ev.” He tossed her two hot dogs wrapped in foil when he reached our seats.

“Thanks, babe,” I said, shoving a chip overloaded with gooey cheese into my mouth.

“So good,” Everly moaned.

I waved off her bragging. “What did you do today?”

“Not much.” She shrugged. “Cleaned. Did a load of laundry. Got married.”

“That’s ni—” My brain screeched to a halt.

Duke leaned forward, a bite of pizza showing in his gaping mouth. “What did you say?”

“I got married.” She wadded up the foil wrapper from the hot dog and stood. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Thanks for the hot dog.”

“But—”

“Bye.” She patted me on the shoulder as she shuffled past our knees, then did the same to Duke.

He swallowed his bite. “Did she say married?”

“I think so?” I could only stare as Everly’s dark hair swished down her back as she descended the stairs. “Maybe it was a joke.”

She reached the base of our section, her gaze searching until it landed on her target. She lifted her hand and waved to three familiar faces. Travis. Savannah.

And Hux.

“I’m thinking that wasn’t a joke,” Duke muttered.

Hux kissed his daughter on the cheek, then left her behind as he strode to meet Everly, taking her hand and leading her to the exit.

My paper boat of chips nearly slipped from my grip. I caught it at the last second, but not before a blob of nacho cheese landed on the calf of my jeans.

“That spill was on Everly,” I mumbled, taking one of the many napkins Duke had brought with the food. “You don’t think . . . Everly and Reese?”

“I don’t know, baby.” He put his hand on my thigh. “But give her some time. She’ll explain.”

Duke had seen the changes in my best friend over the past months too. The same patience he had for me, he extended to her as honorary family.

This man truly was a dream. He’d given me a home. A family. Soon, a baby. And a puppy we’d named Cheddar.

I had no idea what was happening with Everly, but if Reese Huxley hurt her in any way, I’d burn his gallery to the damn ground.

“I’m worried about her,” I said.

“I know.” Duke looped his arm around me. The movement was fluid, finally free of the stiffness the shooting had caused. He’d healed quickly, save for a scar he’d have for the rest of his life. Even if evidence of Jennifer’s bullet wasn’t there to remind me daily, I doubted I’d ever get the image of his bleeding body out of my mind.

I went back to my food, drowning the stress of Everly’s announcement in processed calories.

Travis stood, spotted us and came up to join us, taking Everly’s empty seat at my side. “Hey, guys.”

Duke handed him a spare hot dog. “How’s it going, bud?”

“Good. Got a job today.”

“You did?” I bumped my shoulder into his. “Congrats. Where?”

“The movie theater.”

“Guess we’ll have to go to more movies,” Duke said, finishing his last bite of pizza.

I handed him my nachos, not wanting any more. My stomach still wasn’t in a good place, and with the knot in it—courtesy of Everly—I’d probably just eat cold cereal when we got home.

Travis didn’t inhale his food like normal. Instead, his hot dog rested in his lap while his gaze drifted to the rows below, where Savannah slid into a seat beside a couple of other boys. The moment she was seated, his posture drooped.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered, finally eating. He demolished the hot dog Duke had given him, then devoured my pizza slice. With him around, I didn’t have to worry about wasting food. Travis came over once a week for dinner and there were never leftovers, no matter how much Duke and I cooked.

Melanie had put him in counseling after the shooting. He’d gone, begrudgingly at first like he had with our Spanish lessons, but after a month, the complaining had stopped.

Except for tonight.

Travis grumbled something under his breath. I ignored it, until two minutes later he did it again.

“Okay, spill,” I ordered. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “I want to ask Savannah out.”

“Aren’t you dating already?” Duke asked.

“No. We’re just friends. I guess. We were. I don’t know. Girls are complicated.”

That girl especially. “Does she like you?”

“I thought so. She kissed me in the parking lot when we came in, but then she wanted to sit with Jordan Brown.”

“Maybe she’s not sure that you like her,” I said. “If you asked her out, what would you do?”

“I don’t know. Go out to eat, I guess. Get cheeseburgers or grilled cheeses or cheesesteaks.”

Duke leaned his forearms on his knees, looking at Travis like he’d sprouted wings. “That’s awfully specific.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Travis tossed up his hands. “You guys are always talking about cheese. I mean, you named your dog Cheddar.”

I pulled in my lips to keep from laughing but my darling husband didn’t even try to spare the boy’s feelings.

Duke burst out laughing, leaning close to bury his face in my hair.

My blond hair. After four months of careful lightening treatments, I was almost back to my natural color.

“So, um . . .” Don’t laugh, Lucy. Don’t laugh. “That’s not why we talk about cheese. It’s just an inside joke. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Duke’s laughter turned into a roar, growing so loud that he drew attention from the others around us.

I elbowed Duke in the side. Hard. This was not how to be supportive of Travis’s love life.

“Just ask her out to dinner,” I told Travis. “Take her somewhere nice.”

“And get your ass down there.” Duke sat up straight, shaking his head as he continued to laugh. “If she’s sitting with another guy, you’d better be right beside her so she knows how you feel and that Jordan kid does too.”

Travis contemplated the advice for a few seconds, then shot out of his seat and practically leapt across us to jog down the stairs.

“I had no idea tonight’s game was going to be so dramatic,” I told Duke.

“Small-town life, baby. You’re in the thick of it now.”

Small Town Life. I’d been struggling with a title for my next album, but that was it.

“I love it.” I leaned into his side.

I’d soak up every moment of this simple drama if that meant we’d live this life together, waiting to welcome the child in my belly into our arms.

“You’re humming.” Duke leaned in to whisper.

“Huh?”

“You’re humming.” He smiled that handsome, sexy smile that made my heart melt and my body ignite. “That usually means you’re happy.”

“I am.” Happier than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I laid my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Sheriff.”

“Love you too, baby.”

We sat there, Duke cheering on the team and me humming the song that would end up becoming Duke’s.

Because a man like Duke Evans deserved one hell of a song.