by Kay Correll
“That’s quite a change from music teacher to gallery owner. Do you enjoy running it?”
Tough question. She did love the gallery. It was part of her parents. It made her feel close to them. But did she enjoying running it?
Well, it wasn’t like she had a choice. She would never let her parents’ dream die. She looked at Chase. “Sure, I like running it. It’s…” She shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
She looked at him, wondering how to broach talking about what he did. It’s not like she could ask him. Because she knew what he did. It was obvious that Gloria knew who he was even though she hadn’t come right out and said anything. He was a famous country singer.
Okay, just lead with that.
“And you’re a country singer.”
He looked a bit surprised. “You knew? You never said anything.”
“Didn’t take me long to figure it out. You looked familiar when you showed up at Nora’s. You looked a bit different in person than in the photos I’ve seen of you. You have longer hair now.” She grinned at him. “And I’m used to seeing you with your cowboy hat.”
“My manager, Sam, insists I wear that hat in all my publicity photos.”
“You rock that hat.” She grinned again.
He laughed. “Thanks.”
“So you’re singing solo now?”
Chapter 9
And there it was. The question he hated.
“I… ah, yes. I’m a solo act now.” Now that Kimberly had gone out on her own. Gone out on her own and become famous in her own right.
Not that he begrudged her that.
Well, he did a bit.
Okay, a lot.
She’d taken some of the best songs he’d written and recorded them herself, and off she’d rocketed to stardom.
“Do you have an album of your own solo work?”
“Yes, I do. And about a handful of people own it.”
“I’m sure it takes some time to branch out on your own.” There was a warmth to her gaze and she gave him a soft, encouraging smile.
Time. It had been two long years and he was still struggling. At first, Sam had been able to get him some fairly decent gigs. He’d even got the recording contract for his solo album. But another contract hadn’t followed after the dismal response to his first one.
Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a solo act.
He just wasn’t sure he was ready to face that fact just yet.
“Did you see that Jackson Dillion is performing at the concert at the end of the Art Weekend?” Sophie continued on, unaware of the turmoil of his thoughts.
He brought himself back to the subject at hand. “I did. Jackson’s a great kid. Up and coming. He’s a great performer, too. The audience loves him.”
“We were lucky to get him.”
“I’m sure he’ll draw a large crowd for you.”
Probably larger than the last crowd that had come out to see his performance. The crowd that had left disappointed…
Their food arrived and saved him from further discussion of his career, or lack thereof.
They walked out into the chilly night air after what he’d considered one of the best Mexican dinners he’d ever had. Maybe the food. Maybe the company. But he’d had a really good time.
He looked up at the night sky. “Hey, look. It’s snowing.”
Sophie tilted her face up. “A bit.”
The flakes of snow danced around on the breeze, not accumulating much on the sidewalk except for a few sweeps of white near the buildings.
“River walk again or down Main Street?” She looked at him.
“The river walk was nice.” He knew he didn’t really answer her question, but he was kind of lost in her eyes as the lamplight illuminated her face.
“River walk it is then. I do love walking along the river. It’s so soothing. Almost like it’s singing its own song, oblivious to whoever hears it.” She flashed him a tentative grin. “That sounds a bit silly, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. I feel that way about the wind sometimes. Like it’s singing its own song.”
“Ah, so you know what I mean.” She started down the street.
He wanted to take her hand in his. Which was ridiculous. It was their first date.
With a jolt of surprise, he realized he didn’t want it to be their last one. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked by her side. They bumped shoulders once as they ambled down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. He was fine with the slow pace. He wasn’t ready for the night to be over.
They crossed over to the river walk and strolled down the path, in and out of the light of the lamps scattered along the pathway. She rubbed her arms as they walked along.
“You cold?”
“Just a bit.”
“Here.” He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side. “I’m always running hot.” And for once, he was grateful for his hot metabolism.
They continued on down the path, and he tried to ignore how great she felt against his side. Then he quit trying to ignore it and relished it. They walked in sync, in perfect step along the sidewalk. This pathway could go on forever as far as he was concerned.
“Here we are.” Sophie stopped by an unmarked doorway in the back of a building.
He realized it must be the gallery. But he still wasn’t ready for the evening to be over.
Ask me in. Ask me in. He sent his thoughts winging through the air.
“Would you like to come up for a little while?”
Well, that worked. “Yes, I’d like that.”
She opened the door, and he followed her upstairs. She flipped a switch as they entered the loft, low lights came on over the bookcase in the corner, and some lights over the cabinets in the kitchen area glowed and bounced off the ceiling. “I don’t like to flood the room with lights at night.”
He thought the loft looked enchanting in the low light. Or maybe it was the company.
She slipped out of her jacket before he could help her and hung it on a hook by the door. He draped his jacket beside hers.
“We could sit by the window. I like to sit there and look out over the river.”
“Sounds good to me.” He followed her over to the window and sank onto the chair next to her. She tugged off her boots, letting them clatter to the floor, and stretched out her long legs.
He pulled his gaze from her legs to the window. “You’ve got a great view here. It’s very peaceful looking out over the water.”
“It is. When I took over the gallery, I converted the upstairs into this apartment for me. It just seemed convenient.”
“Your parents didn’t live here?”
“No, they had a house a little ways out from town. Dad liked his space. Their home is… was… actually, it’s on Lone Elk lake, near Nora’s lodge. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with it yet. It just sits there.” She couldn’t bear to live there but couldn’t bear to sell it either. So it just sat there. Jason checked on it weekly for her, and she occasionally went there herself but usually left feeling more alone than ever.
“So you and Beth have been friends for a while?”
“Since we were young girls.”
He wondered what it would be like to have a friend like that. One who’d known you forever. He didn’t even have what most people would consider a best friend. Well, he had Sam, but that was only from the last few years. His father had constantly moved around with his job, and they’d lived in a dozen cities by the time he was twenty and he’d moved to Nashville to try and make it in the music industry. Moving around like that wasn’t really conducive to making lifelong friends, or any friends for that matter.
“Beth really helped me after my parents’ accident. And Nora always makes sure to invite me over for family dinners. Jason is almost like a brother to me. They’re… well, they are almost family to me.” She looked at him. “Do you have family?”
He paused for a moment, deciding how to answer. “Just my father.” He had to
think for a moment where his dad lived now. He’d just moved for yet another job. “Oh, he’s in Salt Lake City.”
“Do you see him much?”
“No, not much.” He frowned trying to remember the last time he’d seen his father. A couple of years? No, more. He’d seen his father after a concert he and Kimberly had in some town. Oh, San Francisco. They’d gone out to eat with his dad.
“And your mom?”
“She’s gone.”
Which most people assumed he meant dead, but he really meant gone. She’d disappeared when he was ten, and he’d never heard from her again. She’d left him a letter with a whole list of reasons of why she needed to go.
He hadn’t been reason enough to make her stay.
But he never got into that with people. He stood by his cryptic she’s gone answer.
“I’m sorry.” Sophie reached over and touched his hand.
He was sorry his mom was gone, too, so he let the half-truth dissolve into space as he stared down at Sophie’s hand covering his.
Her hand was a feather-soft blanket of connection, one he didn’t want to break. He slowly flipped his hand over and held hers.
She turned to look out the window, and he watched her. She looked lost in thought and he didn’t want to disturb her. Maybe she was thinking about her own mother. She probably had years of wonderful memories with her mom. Something he didn’t have with his. Well, he had some good memories from before, back when he was very young. But they’d ended abruptly.
She turned to look at him after a bit and smiled. “I had a good time tonight.”
“I did, too.”
Her phone rang and she scooped it off the table beside her chair. “It’s Beth. I’ll call her back later.”
They sat quietly for a few more minutes, but the cheerful ring of the phone had shattered the intimacy of the moment. Sophie looked at her watch. “Well, I better be turning in soon. Long day at the gallery tomorrow. I still have so much to do to get ready for the show.”
He took his clue and stood. “I should go.” He reached a hand down and helped her to her feet. He wanted to continue to hold her hand in his, but he reluctantly let her go. She walked him to the door and stood while he slipped on his jacket, then walked down the stairs with him to the back door. She started to open the door and he reached out to stop her. “I was wondering.” He wet his lips. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place at the lodge tomorrow night. I could cook. I make a mean pot of chili. It’s the only thing I make, but I promise it’s really good.”
He wasn’t certain what she would say. He could see the indecision flit across her eyes. “I’m pretty busy with the show.”
His hopes took a dive.
“But, you know what? I do have to eat. Yes, I’ll come over. Can we make it about seven?”
“That would be great. Want me to come pick you up?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll drive over.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She’d said yes, and he was once again ridiculously happy about that.
“Tomorrow.” She opened the door and he slipped outside.
“Good night, Sophie.”
“Night, Chase.”
He carried the silken tones of her voice with him as he headed to his car. The flakes of snow swirled around him, doing a happy dance right along with him.
Chapter 10
“You were supposed to call me last night.” Beth’s accusing voice came through the cell phone.
Sophie poured a cup of coffee and walked over to the window in the loft. “I know, but it was late when Chase left. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I did crash early. Right after I tried to call you. I was exhausted.”
“See, I did the right thing by not calling last night.”
“So talk to me now.”
“I had a good time.”
“Just good?”
“No, it was really nice. He’s nice. I was kind of nervous at first, but then we got to talking and… well, it was nice.”
“Nice. That word. That’s all I’m going to get?”
“He asked me over for dinner tonight.”
“Well, that sounds promising.”
“He’s going to cook chili.”
“Two nights in a row with dates.”
“I guess you can call them dates.” She wondered if Chase thought of them as dates.
“Tonight you should wear that green sweater I gave you last Christmas.”
She laughed. “You could just come over and lay out my clothes every morning.”
“Just trying to help.”
Sophie wandered over to the flowers on the table and adjust them in the vase. “Oh, and he brought me flowers.”
“See, I knew I liked the guy.”
“Hey, guess who stopped by the table last night? Gloria.”
“Ugh.”
“No kidding. She managed to slam me, your mother, the lodge, and the town of Sweet River Falls, all within minutes.”
“She is one woman who I just can’t seem to like. Not even a tiny little bit.”
“She makes me crazy. I thought she’d never leave. She gave me the what-in-the-world-is-he-doing-with-you look.”
“Don’t pay any attention to Gloria. She’s an unhappy person who likes to think she’s better than everyone else. We should feel sorry for her.”
“If you say so. But it would take a lot of effort for me to get to that point.”
“Yeah, me, too. Well, I’ve got to run or I’ll be late for school. Have fun tonight.”
Sophie set her phone on the table and leaned against the wall beside the window. She stared down at the light covering of snow on the river walk. A lone set of footsteps broke the blanket of white.
She crossed over to the chair where Chase had sat last night and ran her hand along the arm of the chair where his hand had been. She shook her head. What was she doing? And why, of all the men in the world, was she beginning to… What would she even call it? Beginning to be interested in Chase Green?
That was not the smartest thing she’d ever done.
Sophie climbed the steps to Rustic Haven cabin. She smiled when she saw the word rustic carved into the wooden sign by the front door. Gloria would have felt that she’d proven her point about the lodge.
She reached out to knock, but the door swung open before her knuckles reached the wood. Chase stood in the doorway in jeans and a black flannel shirt. His broad shoulders tapered down to his lean waist, where a large silver buckle adorned his leather belt. Well-worn cowboy boots peeked out from the legs of his jeans. He flashed her his famous smile. He looked every bit the country music star.
What was she doing?
“Come in.”
She crossed into the cabin and he closed the door behind her. She looked around the cabin. Beth had said her mom and Jason had updated it. It looked more charming to her than rustic.
Ugh, Gloria needed to get out of her head.
“I’ve got the chili going.” He reached out to help her take off her coat.
“It smells great.” The tangy aroma of it filtered through the room.
“I ran into Nora and told her you were coming to dinner. She sent over fresh homemade bread and some pieces of pie from the dining room for dessert. I think she doubted my cooking ability.” He grinned at her.
She looked over at the fire crackling in the fireplace. A comfortable sofa was placed across from it. She did miss having a fireplace. She walked over and stretched her hands out to the heat.
“I’ve got red wine. Would you like a glass?”
“Yes, please.”
She settled onto the sofa, and Chase sat down beside her and handed her a glass of wine.
“Busy day at the gallery?”
“It was. And I was still working on things for the Art Weekend. Got a few late sign-ups for tables for the arts and crafts fair at the event center. That always seems to happen. We always have a big raffle drawing with lots of prizes and
got a couple more donations for the grand prize. Then we have smaller prizes like coupons for free dinners at some restaurants in town, a free photo shoot from a local photographer, free t-shirt from a gift shop. Things like that.”
“You’re organizing all of that along with the show at the gallery?”
“I am.” She took a sip of the wine. “My mom was one of the people who started the annual Autumn Art Weekend. I feel responsible for helping with it. To keep it going.”
“Sounds like you took over a lot of responsibilities from your parents.”
She bristled a bit at his comment. “Well, I had to. I couldn’t let the gallery just close. And the Art Weekend was important to Mom. Her vision of sharing all kinds of art with the town and the tourists that come here.”
Besides, she owed them this. Owed them this and so much more since their accident had been all her fault.
Chapter 11
He could immediately see that his remark had struck a nerve with her. “Well, I’m sure your parents would be proud of you.”
She seemed to withdraw inside herself as she stared into the fire. He wasn’t sure what he’d said that upset her, but the set of her jaw and the look in her eyes clearly showed she was troubled, or unsettled, or maybe even a bit mad at him.
“Sophie, did I say something wrong? I’m not very good at this.” What did he know about women or dating or relationships with anyone for that matter?
She turned to him. “No, it’s nothing you said. Well, it is, but—” She set her drink on the end table. “I feel like I owe them so much. They were wonderful parents. I want their legacy to live on.”
He felt like there was more to her story, but he wasn’t about to press her. Time to change the subject.
She must have agreed with him because she got up from the sofa and walked over to where his guitar sat in the corner. “Would you play something for me?”
That he could do. That was familiar. Singing was easier than talking. Well, usually it was. “Sure.” He got up and grabbed his guitar. They both settled down on the sofa again as he tuned the strings.