14
“Hi. How’s the Big Apple?”
“You’re really good at geography, considering you never leave Tennessee. It’s cold.”
Silas couldn’t help but smile. She looked so adorable. He wanted to hold and kiss her so badly. In the background, he could hear the other band members walking around and talking to each other. He thought he heard the phrase “Skype Man” in there but decided not to mention it. Either he misheard, or someone was teasing Cinnamon. He’d bet it was the latter. How she lived on a bus with all those people like she did was beyond him. If he had to share a submarine-sized space for any length of time with his buddies, love them or not, he’d have to kill them.
“Well, let’s see, seven more days and you’ll be back where it’s warm. If you can call sunny and mid-fifties warm.”
“Comparatively speaking, yes I can.”
She was priceless. “What you said on the countdown show was really impressive.”
“You saw that?”
Her eyes widened and he smiled wider. “Yes, I happened to catch it. Congratulations on the number one. It won’t be long, and Karma will be there, too.”
“So everyone says. And how is my house coming along?”
She tried so hard to keep it professional. He had to wonder if it was for the other girls’ benefit or if it was just her no-nonsense nature or if she was using it to hide.
“I think you’ll be very satisfied. All the walls are done and sanded. Painting and papering start tomorrow. Most of the plumbing is finished. All the grunge work is pretty much complete. Now we can get down to what you call the wow stuff.”
“Great!”
“As great as a number one song?” He couldn’t resist teasing her just a little bit. She looked over her shoulder and he was sure someone was talking to her. She blushed and he wondered what was going on.
“Almost, but not quite.”
“Hi, Silas!” One of the girls—Mac, he thought—jumped in front of Cinnamon and waved at him. He slowly waved back, and Cinnamon shoved the girl aside with a sharp, “Get lost!”
“Hi!” Another band member swirled the laptop around, making him dizzy with the blur, until the screen settled on her face. Maybe this one was Mac? She waved, grinning broadly.
“Stop it, you juveniles! Mac! C.C.! Stop it!” Cinnamon snatched the laptop around, spinning his view of the bus again, and she stomped to what he assumed was her bunk. She threw herself down with a huff and slid the curtain closed. Finished, she set the laptop down and his view settled back on her face, red with probably a combination of embarrassment and anger. “I’m sorry about that.”
He waved it off. “No worries. You said it was hard to find private time on a bus. If my buddies and I had to stay on a bus, we’d do a whole lot worse.” Heaven only knew the stuff they’d pull on each other in the same situation. “So . . . back to when you return in seven days,” he redirected the conversation. “I was thinking we need to keep our reputation going.” He watched her brow pucker into the cutest frown. Oh, how he wanted to kiss it.
“How’s that?”
“Since you admitted on live television to being in a relationship, now we have to be seen publicly. Dinners, movies, sunsets on the river, things like that.”
* * *
The next night, after working till dark on the house, Silas was back home, sharing dinner with Gunner. The dog went nuts over corn dogs and fries. Silas flipped through the stations, trying to find something. Three-hundred and fifty stations and he seldom could find a decent show. A fish fighting a line caught his eye and he stopped. He set the remote aside and picked up his fork.
“It’s a fishing show,” he said to Gunner, “but it’s not on my regular sports channels.” He didn’t recognize the initials of the network, but he shrugged. “Fishing is fishing.” And that looked like a good-sized bass.
He watched more fishermen, and some gutsy ladies, haul in the big ones from their boats. The excitement was contagious, and he almost called the guys to suggest they rent a charter down in the gulf next time they got together for their fishing trip. That would be fun, and they could make it a three-day event. He tossed the last of the corn dog to Gunner and reached for his phone as the show cut to a commercial. The ominous wail of a fiddle stopped him cold.
Like straight out of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Silas watched brief snippets of a guy being haunted by six different ghosts. The last one looked eerily like a spectral Cinnamon. The soulful strands of When Karma Comes Calling for You played, also in snapshot sections. Thirty seconds later the commercial ended with a voiceover message and some screen info about the Lipstick Outlaws’ newest single official release on March ninth and was already headed for number one on the charts. The video for the single was releasing March thirteenth. The band’s logo and website completed the teaser trailer.
Even without Cinnamon’s earlier description, the snippet gave enough to show the gist of the trailer and whet his appetite for the full video. Like a great teaser, he was powerless against picking up his laptop and entering their web address.
He was startled to see the same teaser trailer on their website, with the last few seconds deleted. The trailer was about thirty seconds long, and Cinnamon had told him the actual video would run three and a half minutes. He couldn’t wait to see it. He clicked around the site, looking at more recent footage of their shows, their interviews, and snapshots of life on the road of their current tour. Just to be sure, he double-checked the tour dates and locations, to make certain nothing changed. He had a lot riding on her not returning until March tenth.
* * *
“Welcome, everyone, to the Hot Country Nights Hour. And let’s all welcome our guests tonight, the Lipstick Outlaws!”
Tamara Fontana spoke into the mic and smiled warmly at the group. Cinnamon wondered if the radio personalities altered their names for the shows. They were seated around a large table fit for King Arthur and his knights. Tamara had water and other beverages out. One thing for sure, the band was getting spoiled with the red-carpet treatment. When they went home and had to do for themselves, it was going to be an adjustment.
“As a live call-in show, you the listeners get to shape the show,” Tamara said into her microphone. “So, don’t be shy. Call us at 1-800-888-HCNH with your comments and questions for the Lipstick Outlaws. Caller one, you’re live on video chat. Go ahead.”
A girl, maybe twenty, smiled and waved at them. “Hi, Outlaws. I just wanted to say you guys are my favorite group. I saw you not long ago in concert and you’re super.”
“Thank you, you’re so sweet. What’s your name?”
“Jenny Thompson.”
“Jenny, we want to send you a t-shirt. We have three behind Mac. Just pick your favorite design and size, and we’ll get that out to you. Does that sound good?”
Jenny beamed. She blushed and pointed to the middle design. Rissa nodded. “Thank you for being our fan and supporting us. Hang on the chat-line so Tamara can gather some information.”
Working her technological magic, Tamara cut Jenny publicly from the show while still being able to collect her address and personal information. She also kept the group up on the show’s video chat and another caller dialed in.
“Hi, Outlaws. My name is Olivia.”
“Hi, Olivia,” they said in unison and waved.
The hour wore on, with endless callers. Most were female but Cinnamon was surprised at how many male fans they had. She made a point to find out if there were more video chat shows like this. If so, they needed to get booked on as many as possible. Being face-to-face was a great tool to gauge their fan base. In the end, they gave away one hundred t-shirts, and also learned which designs were the most desired.
“Okay, listeners. The hour is almost over, but the Outlaws brought the trailer of their latest video soon to release. This is When Karma Comes Calling for You and it’s already swiftly climbing the singles charts. It should easily make number one, like their other singles have so
far. So, here’s a brief look at the upcoming video.”
With more technological magic, Tamara played their teaser trailer of the video and they watched on the screen over their heads. Even before the teaser ended, the call-in chat line was lit up like a Christmas tree. Tamara smiled, shrugged, and connected the first caller.
“Welcome to the Hot Country Nights Hour.”
Fifteen minutes later they were plugged in and ready to play their current hit, Black Pony, another of Cinnamon’s. This would wrap up their interview. Sequestered to a corner of the room, they waited for C.C. to count down.
“Her daddy bought her a black pony when she was nine
She spent hours brushing and making him look so fine.
He was her very best friend.
When life hurt, she’d saddle up and ride.
She’d hold on tight and he carried her away
He’d carry until all her tears were dried
He chased away life’s unfair pain.
It was only a matter of time and now she’s grown
Her daddy walked her down the aisle
Now she’s married with kids of her own
She still rides that black pony to escape life’s trials.
She holds on tight and they get carried away
He chases away life’s unfair pain
He was her very best friend.
But nothing stays the same
Life always has to change
He found another, the house was sold
He left her devastated, alone and cold.
So, when the kids are asleep, she saddles up and rides
She holds that black pony tight and he carries her away
He’s still her best friend, she savors the solace he provides
With her black pony nearby, she can forget about yesterday.”
Half an hour later, the girls each shook Tamara’s hand and thanked her for her time and splendid work. Then they stepped from the studio into the Delaware air. Only four more states, three more shows, two more interviews, and four more days and they’d be back in Nashville.
* * *
Cinnamon was never so happy as to roll into Nashville. She smiled at the familiar sights, glad to finally be back. Danny stopped the bus in the studio’s parking lot, and she wanted to hug him. She could tell by his exhausted smile, he was glad to be home, too. No doubt he was anxious to see his wife and family. It reinforced her notion that they needed to do something special for the crew when the tour ended. Danny gave her an up-close look at what they all sacrificed for the Outlaws to chase their dreams.
“Tell your bride hello for me,” she said as she wrapped him in a hug. Then she grabbed her bags and headed to their cars.
“See you in five,” Kat called, as she shepherded Madison to the car.
Cinnamon waved and climbed in her Tracker. First stop was the kennel and Jasper.
She spent half an hour cuddling the ecstatic kitty. They head bumped and chin clicked as Jasper begged belly rubs and loudly purred nonstop. Cinnamon laughed and hugged him and indulged him in all the rubs and pats he wanted.
“Oh, how I wish I could bring him home now. But it’s just not safe yet. I’m leaving again in five days, but when I get back twelve days later, he’s coming home with me.”
“We just got this new technology,” the kennel manager said. “It was fully hooked up two days ago and I thought you’d be interested. It’s wired to Jasper’s condo and all you need to do is download the app and you can remotely check in with him and see how he’s doing.”
“What’s that app called?” Cinnamon asked, already opening her phone. “Is it in the app store?”
“It is. It’s called Kennl Keepr.” She spelled it out. “In time they said we could integrate interactive software to the cameras, so owners can engage with their pets. There would be video and audio so owners can hear the pets bark or meow and pets can see and hear their owners. If your group takes off like it sounds like, Jasper might become a regular with us. The new technology will allow you to stay active in his stay while on the road.”
“Oh my gosh. That’s just super. Here, it’s downloaded.”
“Just enter Jasper’s unique ID to call up his condo. It’s the last four digits of your phone number, the word cat and Jasper’s name.”
She entered the info and jumped. “Wow, it’s your castle, baby boy. I see all your toys, blanket, and, oh, you’ve been naughty by kicking litter out of your box again.” She tapped the cat on his nose. “Silly baby.” She looked back at the manager. “This is fantastic. And even if he’s in a different condo, I can always find him by using that ID?”
“Always.”
With a heavy heart she returned Jasper to his condo. “I’ll be back for you soon, sweet darling. I promise. And I’ll be watching you from wherever I am.” She gave him one last hug and turned away, tears in her eyes. She mouthed “thank you” to the manager and left.
Next stop was the grocery store. She needed at least perishables and some produce to tide her over for a few days. Then she stopped by the bank to check on the progress for her identity theft investigation. She’d received even more letters and forms while on the road and emailed that she’d take care of it once she got back into town.
“I just received some news this morning,” Jerry, her personal assistant, said once they sat down in her office. She consulted a page in Cinnamon’s theft file. “Does the name Alton Dael mean anything to you?”
Cinnamon went cold, goosebumps climbed up her arm, and her jaw slacked. “No,” she shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, I know him, that name. Oh, my word. No.” Her brain and mouth would not cooperate. Ripples of shock rolled over her. There was only one way Jerry would mention that name. “He did this to me?”
“So, you know him?”
She nodded and licked her lips. Know him? That was an understatement. And it explained how the thief knew the personal information about her. She shook her head again.
“I can’t believe it. Is there anything in my life or any part of me that low-life didn’t steal?”
Jerry gave her a sympathetic look. “Your ex I assume.”
“Ex-boyfriend. Almost my ex-fiancé.” How could he do this too? Hadn’t he done enough damage?
Evidently not.
“Would you like to press charges?”
She laughed. Wouldn’t that just be utterly fantastic? “Oh yeah, you bet I do. If at all possible, I want to prosecute to the fullest letter of the law.” Alton had to pay for all the damage he did one way or the other. Whatever slip up he made, that put his name on her bank’s radar, she didn’t care. They had him now. She bobbed her head. “Yes. Prosecute him.”
She signed some more forms, watched her file grow thicker, and shook hands. She left the bank feeling a sliver of vindication. Alton Dael was going to get a visit from Karma after all. She couldn’t say she was absolutely thrilled with the news, but he asked for anything that happened to him. He was going to deserve this.
Her last stop was to top off her gas tank with her new credit card.
She pulled into the driveway and spotted Galoot in the paddock. He stopped grazing, grass trickling out of his mouth, as he bobbed his head in greeting. He looked good, his coat shiny and she knew Karen had been diligent about taking care of him. She rounded the curve and saw the truck Silas affectionately called Ol’ Blue. The tent was still erected near the porch and she’d bet Gunner was stationed under it.
She cut the engine and heaved a sigh. It was good to be home. Even if it was only for five days. She could hear his music blasting through her closed door. A movement caught her eye and she stilled, hands curling around the steering wheel. Silas was in the back of his truck, obviously looking intently for something. His Wrangler derriere pointed to the sky, making quite an eyeful. Cinnamon smiled, taking advantage of the opportunity to just sit and enjoy a man’s well-developed butt wiggle to the heavens.
Far too soon, he found whatever he was looking for and stood up. In his
hand he clutched a cardboard carton. He turned, saw her sitting there, and his tanned face turned red. She climbed out and sauntered over, a big smile on her face.
“That’s one of the best welcomes I’ve received in a long time.”
He swung from the ladder rack like a gymnast, landing on the ground next to her. He took her into his arms. “Welcome home, Cinnamon.”
Without hesitation, he bent his head and kissed her. Long, lingering, savoring, like a starving man finally offered food. She wasn’t complaining. She was going to enjoy this for as long as possible. She’d missed his kisses far more than she realized and drank him in like her favorite sweet tea when it was blended just right. Something to be relished and appreciated.
In time, they were forced to break apart. He caught her hand and held it tight, as if she might run away. She had no desire to. Staring into his dark eyes, she traced circles over the back of his hand with her thumbs. Nothing could rub her happy smile off her face. He seemed as breathless and affected as she was.
“It’s good to see you, Silas. In person.”
“Yes. Good to have you back. Shall I show you around?”
Hands still linked, they walked to the porch. “Close your eyes,” Silas requested. “Allow me to really surprise you.”
Sighing dramatically, she still giggled and relented. “Okay. Here’s your chance. Wow me.”
Silas stood behind her and took her by the shoulders, gently propelling her through the doorway and into the hallway. “First stop.”
She opened her eyes and inhaled. “Wow.” The old walls were reduced in number, and the ones that remained were covered in barn wood. Original wood, not manufactured imitation. Transom windows allowed natural light to spill through. Where the blocky walls once stood was now open space, inviting people to travel through. The soft gray of the barnwood reflected off a huge teardrop chandelier.
Cinnamon’s Courageous Heart: Sweethearts of Country Music, Book 5 Page 12