Kentucky Heat Page 6

  “I love that one with the child hugging the spotted pony.”

  As he had done while watching Raylynn and her band, Hank hung back and observed the activity around his paintings. His nerves jangled. This was, after all, his coming out party for this type of work. He’d never exhibited portraits before, sticking mostly to abstracts and landscapes.

  “These have a wonderful authenticity,” a silver-haired man commented. He wrote down a bid for the painting.

  Slowly, Hank’s heart expanded with pride. His hard work was well-received. Glancing at one of the bidding sheets, he saw that the highest offer was one thousand dollars. The Hope Center would make money tonight.

  “Who painted these?” the first woman asked.

  “I hear it was Brennan’s son. His real son, not the one who runs the business.”

  His real son. Yeah, he was the real son, all right. But not the one with enough smarts to make real money for the family. Not the son who did anything that counted.

  That old, familiar self-pity reared its ugly head. The only person who made him feel special was Raylynn. He needed her. Yet thoughts of anything after tonight’s date were folly. He knew that, but whenever he was around her, he had hope.

  “Hank!” Aimee’s excited voice rang out. She rushed to his side and linked arms with him, ducking her head against his shoulder. “Your paintings are wonderful!”

  Cam joined them and slapped his back. “I didn’t know you had it in you, baby brother. Well done!”

  Flushed with amazement, Hank was at a loss for words.

  “You surprised the heck out of Dad,” Cam said. “He couldn’t believe you’d actually painted them.”

  Hank tried to disguise his annoyance. If his father had cared anything about him, he would know the paintings were his work. “If you look closely enough, you’ll find the paint by numbers underneath,” he drawled, unable to stop the sarcasm.

  “Oh, stop being so sensitive.” Aimee tugged his arm. “You never let anyone see those paintings until now. How were we to know?”

  Aimee had a point, but he’d never expected this kind of acceptance of his horse and rider portraits.

  “Do you really like them?” Hank surveyed the silent auction tables and his canvases displayed behind them. At this moment when his art talent was finally being appreciated, he was confused by the turn of his emotions. He should be happy, but a niggling voice told him his success would always make him a misfit in a family that valued business success instead.

  “We wouldn’t say it if we didn’t mean it,” Cam replied.

  “I’m so glad Raylynn told us about your art,” Aimee said. “She was right. You are a talented painter, Hank.” Aimee let go of his sleeve to join her husband at the tables where he was writing down a bid for one of the oil paintings.

  Raylynn? What did she have to do with this? She said she’d find a way to make him show his paintings. Did she go to Aimee and tell her? Is that how this silent auction thing came about?

  Hank found his way back to the band. This time he stood in front of the stage, right in front of Raylynn, and he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching her.

  Her gaze fastened on him, and she began to sing. “Sweet dreams of you. . .”

  She came to the edge of the stage, holding the microphone up to those bright red lips, caressing the microphone with her hands as she had caressed him. Bending low toward him, her voice dropping lower, she made love to him with her eyes, her lips, and her sultry smile.

  Instead of having sweet dreams about you.

  Only the two of them knew about their brief time together. It was as if only they were in the ballroom, sharing an intense physical awareness of each other.

  She did love him! Hank knew it from the way she looked at him. His hand ached to reach out and pull her down from that stage and into his arms. Explosive undercurrents rippled between them. His heart pounded hard.

  The song ended, and she turned quickly away. The event planner hopped up on stage, thanking the band, and raising her hands high to applaud them. The crowd, which had grown around them, clapped wildly. Raylynn and the guys had been a hit. Hank flushed with pride, as happy about the band’s achievements as his own.

  When the applause ended and the group dispersed, he met her at the edge of the stage. “You were remarkable.”

  “Thanks!” She was breathless, aglow from the acclaim. She glanced around the room. “A far cry from Pappy’s.”

  Hank lifted his hand and helped her down from the stage. “You had them in the palms of your hands.” Their gazes held and lingered. He wouldn’t release her hand.

  “I’ll change and meet you back out here, is that okay, sugar?”

  “What? You’re not wearing your yellow cowboy boots the rest of the night?”

  “No, silly.” She extracted her fingers from his grasp.

  “You can wear them around me anytime. Just them. Nothing else.”

  She swatted him. “Stop it! Your mind is in the gutter.”

  He shook his head. “No, my mind and my heart are with you.”

  Blushing, she turned away. “Be careful,” she warned. “You love a fantasy.” And then she walked away.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” Raylynn had told him. She was right. The reality of her statement was hitting home as Hank waited for her to reappear.

  A wave of apprehension swept through him as he waited. He loved the Raylynn with the sexy voice and the provocative walk. He loved her beauty and her talent. What if he didn’t like the actual person underneath the showbiz façade? She was right to warn him.

  “I hear there’s a good band playing at the other end of the ballroom. Would you like to dance, sugar?”

  Hank was too stunned to say a word. Standing in front of him was a goddess in a strapless, floor length, purple gown. Pleats fell from the rosette detail at her waist. Gone was the country singing star, and in her place was a sleek and sophisticated woman he didn’t recognize.

  “Raylynn?”

  “One and the same, Hank.”

  She had dropped the “sugar,” and he saw the difference in her eyes. Something told him she wasn’t playacting now.

  “Geeze! You’re gorgeous!”

  She laughed, sticking the tip of a black pump from under her purple skirt. “You like this better than my yellow boots?”

  “Any day.” He was afraid to touch her. “Wow! You were right. I don’t know you.”

  “Do you want to get to know me?”

  “Yes!”

  “Let’s dance.”

  Raylynn took his hand and led the way through the ballroom to the opposite end where a dance band had set up near a hardwood dance floor. Several people recognized him and congratulated him as they passed. One man asked him to paint a portrait of his daughter and her horse. Another woman thanked him for helping the Hope Center.

  No one recognized Raylynn without her cowgirl outfit and stage makeup. He was glad to have her to himself.

  The twenty-piece jazz orchestra recreated the swinging sounds of the big band era. They were playing the Glenn Miller version of Moonlight Serenade when Hank pulled Raylynn into his arms on the dance floor.

  “You feel so good,” he whispered into her ear.

  The soft skin of her back was warm to his touch. Holding her and swaying to the music turned him on.

  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “I know.” She glanced away.

  “Was it because of tonight and the gig?”

  “Yes.” She met his gaze. “I was mad because you pushed me into performing.”

  “What do you have against it? You and the band are a hit.”

  She let out a slow breath. “Nashville was my mother’s dream, not mine. She left me and my father and then died of an overdose. The dream of Nashville destroyed our family and almost destroyed my life if it weren’t for my aunt and uncle.”

  “That’s tough. You should have told me.”

  Raylynn acknowledged his rema
rk with a nod. “I was afraid of you too.”

  “Was or am?”

  “Am.” She nodded again at his understanding. “You scare me, Hank.”

  He pressed the small of her back, drawing her nearer. “Why? Because I’m a deadbeat?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  He kissed the top of her black curls. “What’s the other part?”

  “You make me feel things I don’t want to feel.”

  “That’s not such a bad thing.”

  She stared up into his eyes. “It can be with a track record like mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve always been attracted to jerks.” Amusement flickered in her eyes.

  “Like me?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t want to be jerk, Raylynn.”

  His sudden admission drew him up short. He paused, and then took another step in time to the music. He was tired of his life, living it in the shadow of his brother. Always angry at the man who fathered him.

  “I’m not being critical,” she said quickly.

  He shushed her. “You don’t offend me. I agree with you.”

  The music ended, leaving them in each other’s arms in the middle of the dance floor. Everything was so much better when Raylynn was with him. He felt alive and loved, even though she’d never said the words.

  The band struck up another Glenn Miller song, the jazzy In the Mood. Hank pulled her from the dance floor. “Let me show you something,” he said.

  She went with him, keeping up with him step-for-step, her long gown swishing around her legs.

  “I think I owe you for this.” He stopped near the silent auction tables. “Did you tell my sister-in-law about my paintings?”

  Raylynn peered up at him, nodded slightly, and ducked her head. “I know Aimee. In fact, she used to work for Uncle Jimmy.”

  Hank put the puzzle pieces together in his head. It now made sense how Raylynn knew where he lived. He didn’t remember telling her the night he was drunk. “Is this the same uncle who took you in as a child?”

  “Yes, and taught me to ride. I train horses for him.”

  That explained her early hours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She moved to study the first bid sheet. Hank followed her down the row of tables. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to embarrass you, I guess. We met on equal footing as two artists. I didn’t want you to think I was after your money.”

  He laughed, glancing sideways at her. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why would I think you were after my money?”

  “Because I know who you are. I know your brother and sister-in-law.”

  “It wasn’t because you were embarrassed by me?”

  “I felt a little sorry for you.” She spoke in a gentle tone.

  For some reason, her honesty didn’t offend him. He deserved it. He had felt sorry for himself.

  Not anymore.

  They walked back toward the ballroom, Hank’s hand holding hers.

  “Raylynn, because of tonight, I may have an actual art career,” he told her. “People seem to like what I do. I may never make enough money to support a wife and family, but I’m going to try. I’m going to get off my dead ass and make something of myself.”

  Her blue eyes shined brightly as she gazed up at him. “That sounds wonderful, Hank.”

  “I know I can’t expect anything from you right now, but will you let me ask you out? Can we get to know each other?”

  “I’d like that.”

  The jazz orchestra started playing a Harry James song with a trumpet belting out the tune. Hank drew Raylynn into his arms again, and they danced slowly to the appropriate strains of You Made Me Love You.

  Epilogue

  The Courier-Journal Online

  Raylynn Walker and Henry Brennan, Jr. were married on June 25, 2011, at Christ United Methodist Church in Louisville with a reception following at the beautiful Undulata Farm in Shelbyville. The bride is the daughter of the late Kay and Walter Walker, and the niece of Jimmy and Lydia Burke of Simpsonville. The groom is the son of the late Sue Brennan, and Henry and Virginia Brennan of Louisville. The bride received a BS in psychology from the University of Kentucky and is a horse trainer. The groom graduated from the Indiana University with a BA degree in studio art. He owns Brennan Art Gallery. After honeymooning in Costa Rica, the couple resides in Louisville, Kentucky.

  About the Author

  Jan Scarbrough lives in Louisville, Kentucky, along with two dogs and four cats. Dreams do come true! On January 2, 2000, she married Bill, her soul mate. When she’s not writing, Jan takes riding lessons every week on her favorite horse, the American Saddlebred. She also volunteers at The Luci Center, a therapeutic riding center.

  Jan says, “The process of becoming a published author has been fun. My best friends are fellow writers. Who else will check a point plot for me or understand GMC and POV?”

  Jan Scarbrough is a member of Novelists, Inc., Romance Writers of America and the Kentucky Romance Writers, where she served as president, secretary, and newsletter editor. Jan is currently the web mistress of the KYRW chapter’s award-winning web site.

  To learn more about Jan Scarbrough, please visit her at www.janscarbrough.com.

  Jan Scarbrough’s Bluegrass Reunions Series

  is available at

  Resplendence Publishing

  They thought the boys they loved were out of their lives. They were wrong.

  KENTUCKY COWBOY — She had dumped him in high school because he was a risk-taker.

  “Warmhearted and wonderful... Kentucky Cowboy is a keeper.” — Bestselling Author Joanne Rock

  *Winner of the 2006 PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest, Contemporary Series Romance

  A contender for the world title, professional bull rider Judd Romeo defies death for a living. Now he must deal with the death of his mother by settling her estate. Returning home to Kentucky, he runs smack dab into the arms of his high school sweetheart, a woman he has never forgotten.

  Veterinarian Mandy Sullivan learned early on that risk-takers are trouble. Having custody of her sister’s child, she is working hard to be both mother and father to the abandoned girl, and doesn’t count on trouble showing up next door.

  Mandy discovers she can’t avoid the famous cowboy she’s never quite put out of her mind. When Mandy’s sister comes back threatening to take away the little girl she loves as her own, will Mandy realize Judd is not the same man he was back then?

  KENTUCKY WOMAN — She had loved him when she was a teenager, but they never connected.

  *Winner of the 2007 San Diego RWA’s Spring into Romance Contest

  *Second Place in the 2007 PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest, Contemporary Series Romance

  Years of hard work and schooling have paid off for single mom and ex-jockey Alexis Marsden. She now has a desk job she loves and she’s paying her bills—barely. But she can’t give her son everything he needs, especially a father. When the big brother of her child’s father asks her to marry him, does Alex give up her hard-won independence and settle for an old-fashioned marriage of convenience?

  Workaholic banker Jackson Breckinridge has spent his life meeting the expectations of his parents and protecting his younger brother. When his brother fathers Alex’s child, Jack must protect his parents from the truth and fix his brother’s screw up. Marriage to the childhood playmate he’s loved since his school days is just the right thing to solve his problems. He accepts her terms for a marriage of convenience, but he longs to convert it into a one that’s for real.

  KENTUCKY FLAME — She had his baby, but he left not knowing the truth.

  Horse trainer Jake Hendricks arrives to take charge of Royalty Farm from his one-time mentor. After the main barn goes up in flames, Jake must do everything he can to save the farm that is already under financial pressure from a greedy local real estate developer.

  After gathering the courage to leave an abusive marriage, horse trainer Melody O’Shea returns
to Royalty Farm when her father needs her help. Coming home to the famed American Saddlebred farm is bittersweet because it is also the home of her daughter, the secret child she gave up for a private adoption.

  Mel doesn’t count on Jake being there. The man left her nine years earlier not knowing she was carrying his baby. Forced to work with Jake to save her daughter’s home and heritage, Mel grapples with the mistakes of her past and her love for a man who once rejected her, but who she never forgot. When danger escalates, Mel’s life is in jeopardy and she must work with Jake to solve the mystery that threatens her safety and the safety of the daughter they both love.

  KENTUCKY BRIDE — She rejected him once, but he’s willing to try again.

  Champion equestrienne Aimee Elliott wants to be in taken seriously. An over-protected only child, she’s tired of being just window dressing. Refusing financial support from her parents, Aimee goes to work for a horse trainer. For the first time, she’s free of her parents’ control. Determined to marry for love, Aimee can never be sure if a man loves her for herself or for her father’s millions. Besides, she’s unsure if she can make it without Daddy’s money.

  Camden Brennan owes the man who adopted him a lot. Now CEO of his father’s heavy equipment company, Cam stands to win a million dollar contract-if he can convince eccentric Ray Elliott to accept his bid. Too worried about the behavior of his only daughter to concentrate on negotiations, the road construction magnate makes it clear to Cam that he’ll show his gratitude to any man who marries his daughter and takes her off his hands.

  Realizing if he captures the hand of the wayward Miss Aimee Elliott, he’ll also capture the biggest deal of his life, Cam sets out to do just that. Trouble is, six years earlier, their summertime fling ended badly. Aimee is the only woman who’s ever rejected him, and the only woman Cam has ever loved.