“Do you think you might be moving back to Buckley?” asked the editor from the local paper.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Miss Carson, we heard you were at the mall in Sidell recently with a very handsome cowboy,” said the female reporter from one of the fan magazines.
“That’s true.”
The reporter followed Andi’s gaze as she smiled at Wade. “We also heard that he almost got in a fight with three men who insisted on an autograph even though you were ready to leave.”
“The key word here is almost. He convinced the men that I was tired and needed to leave, using words not fists.”
“But would he have fought them?”
Andi smiled. “Most Texas men will fight if necessary to protect their women.”
The woman looked slyly at Wade, then back at Andi, her eyes sparkling. “And are you his woman, Miss Carson?”
Oops. Andi laughed, though she was afraid Wade might not be happy with her. “Sneaky little thing, aren’t you? I was just using a figure of speech.” More like a slip of the tongue. “Wade is an old friend from high school. He is also a terrific bodyguard. Now, folks, I need to move on outside and get an early start on the autographing. We’re liable to be here until dark as it is. Thank you so much for coming.”
Wade opened the door and the reporters filed past, each one giving him an assessing glance. As the woman from the fan magazine strolled by, she winked and smiled coyly. He smiled politely and shut the door behind her, giving Andi a few minutes breather before she faced the crowd.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid you may find your name in a magazine in the near future.”
“As long as she puts in the ‘very handsome cowboy’ part, I won’t complain.” His gaze caressed her face, sending her pulse racing. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I don’t mind having my name linked to yours, unless they make up some outlandish gossip and try to hurt you.”
Her heart did a triple somersault, and she warned herself not read too much into what he said. “Those folks won’t. They’re not like the tabloids or some of the Hollywood magazines. They may speculate a little but not in a way meant to hurt. Well, I guess I’d better go greet the ‘screaming hordes’ as Dawn calls them.”
“They look fairly tame.” He slipped his arm around her waist, detaining her with the slight pressure of his hand. “By the way, you answered one question wrong.”
She looked up, meeting his warm gaze. “Which one?”
“The one about you being my woman.”
This time, she knew he could hear her heart pounding for certain, but before she could say anything, he winked and opened the front door.
“Your loyal subjects await, my lady,” he drawled, gently propelling her through the doorway.
The day was sunny but not hot, so Andi sat at a table outside in front of Dawn’s store, with a prominent sign strategically placed behind her giving the date of Memory Lane’s grand opening. Wade sat on a high stool to the left in back of her. Logan Slade and another deputy flanked them, spaced about fifteen feet on either side of her table. The sheriff wandered though the crowd, watching for potential problems, kissing babies, and gathering votes for the next election.
Rosemary and Harold, along with a couple of other people Dawn had recruited for the museum board, presided over the free cookies and soft drinks Andi had provided. The refreshments were served inside the old Knox’s Department Store building, which Mr. Knox’s heirs had donated to the city. A big banner, made by the high school cheerleaders, hung across one of the front display windows, announcing it as the future sight of the museum. Dawn sat at another table, handling ticket sales for the street dance on Friday night and taking donations for the museum.
Andi put her signature on everything from pieces of paper and autograph books to magazine articles to T-shirts. She even signed one young man’s guitar. Often during the afternoon, she noticed media people at work—reporters interviewing the fans, photographers taking pictures of her and the crowd, and two video camera crews, one from the television station in Sidell and one from CMN.
She had been signing autographs, visiting a minute with each fan, and posing with them for photographs for almost four hours, when Wade slid off his stool and stepped up beside her. She could tell something was wrong by his tense stance. She looked up at the next person in line and immediately recognized the cowboy who had almost gotten into a fight with Wade at the mall.
“Thank you so much for coming over,” she said, smiling sweetly, hoping to avoid another scene. “I’m sorry I had to leave the other day.”
A flush spread across the young man’s face. “That’s all right, ma’am. You were doin’ folks a favor as it was.” He handed her a stuffed dog with floppy ears, wearing a white fringed vest. “I’d appreciate it if you could sign on the vest for Lacey. That’s my girl, but she had to be out of town.” He placed a country music magazine on the table, open to the list of top forty country hits. Her last single was number one on the chart. “And this is for me, Billy Bob.”
“I’d be happy to. Where are your friends?” she asked as she quickly inscribed the vest.
“They had to work. I didn’t tell them I was comin’ over. I was afraid they’d call in sick or something and come, too. I wanted to apologize for the way we acted the other day, and I was afraid I’d chicken out if they were here. I am sorry, ma’am.”
“That’s sweet of you, Billy Bob.” She handed him the signed magazine. “And I think you’d have been man enough to apologize even if your friends were here.”
He smiled, thanked her, and moved out of the way, nodding respectfully at Wade as he did so.
Wade leaned over, murmuring in her ear, “You’re the one who’s sweet.” He drew back slightly, relishing her sweet smile and the pleasure in her eyes when she looked at him. “Want something else to drink?”
“Please. A Dr Pepper would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
She had writer’s cramp by the time she finished near six o’clock, but this time, no one was turned away. They went back to Dawn’s, accompanied by everyone on the museum board, and ordered several large pizzas from a restaurant near the interstate.
Wade rubbed her right hand while she fed him a bite of super-deluxe pizza with her left. “Did you sell some tickets?” she asked Dawn.
“Thirty,” mumbled Dawn around a bite of pepperoni and black olive pizza. She chewed, swallowed, and smiled. “And collected fifty dollars in donations. We’re raking in a bundle on the dance, since almost everybody is donating their time. We’re paying the band since they’re college students and need the money. It shouldn’t be a problem; we’ve sold over five hundred tickets. It’s a good thing it’s a street dance. We’d never find a place in Buckley big enough, although the City Council did say we could use the new museum site if it rained. We’d still be way too crowded.”
Rosemary and Harold stayed after the other board members left and joined them in several games of dominoes. Claiming that her hands were too tired to hold anything, Andi teamed up with Wade and had great fun arguing with him about which pieces to play. After the other couple left, she walked out to the car with him. “Did your friend Grant come today? I know he wasn’t playing bodyguard, but I saw too many people to remember their names.”
“No, I didn’t call him about it since we didn’t need him. I was afraid it might make his knee hurt if he had to stand for very long. It was bothering him last week when he was at the house. He may come to the dance, though. I sent him a ticket.”
“Playing matchmaker?”
“Maybe. I think Dawn would be a good influence on him. Mostly, I thought it would do him good to get out. All he does is work and go visit his daughter every Sunday. He’s goin’ to turn plumb anti-social if he doesn’t start being around people.” He smiled. “Come to think of it, he never was real social, at least not in the polished sense of the word.”
“And you want to set this man up with our sweet
little Dawn?”
“Put a little spice in her life,” he said with a wicked grin.
“I’m not sure she’s ready for chili pepper.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “She’s sweet and sassy enough to mellow him out.” His expression sobered. “Don’t tell her he might come to the dance. I wouldn’t want her to be disappointed.”
“She’s going to be so busy between now and then that it probably wouldn’t make much difference to her anyway, but I won’t say anything.”
The wind blew Andi’s hair across her face. He gently pushed it aside with one hand. “I was proud of you today. You had something nice to say to everyone of those people, and your smile never wavered. You made each one feel special.”
“They are.”“So are you.” He lowered his head, kissing her tenderly. “Good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night, precious man.”
“I like the sound of that.” Wade eased away, getting into the red coupe. “I’ll see you Friday about six.”
“I’ll be ready. Wear something comfortable. Your boots will be smokin’ by the end of the party.”
“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I don’t do line dances.”
“Can you put one foot in front of the other and go slowly around the room without tripping your partner?”
“I can, and I’m real good at hanging onto her.”
“That’s all I need. See you Friday.”
***
Articles about the autographing showed up in the papers on Thursday, each accompanied by various photographs of Andi signing autographs for her fans or chatting with them. The Sidell television station ran a feature on her and the event during both their noon and evening news programs.
Wade stretched out in his recliner that evening and flipped on the Country Music Scene program. As usual, he set the DVR to record the show in case they had something on about Andi.
After the broadcaster greeted the viewers, she launched right into a segment on Andi. “We’re happy to report that singer Andrea Carson has recovered from the pneumonia that sent her to the hospital several weeks ago and postponed the rest of her tour. Andi came out of seclusion in a big way yesterday afternoon, signing autographs for a huge crowd for almost six hours in her home town of Buckley, Texas.”
The scene switched to film of Andi laughing with one of her fans and signing the hem of his T-shirt. “Andi told our Country Music Scene reporter that she’s feeling wonderful and will soon resume her tour, making up as many of the canceled shows as can be rescheduled. She said the autograph signing was a way of thanking her friends and neighbors in Buckley for protecting her privacy and giving her the peace and quiet she needed to rest and recover.”
The camera panned the crowd, showing a portion of the hundreds of people who were there. “Andi will also be singing a few songs Friday night at a benefit dance in Buckley to help raise money for a new historical museum in the town.”
The camera moved back to Andi, and Wade catapulted out of the chair. He was in the picture, too, standing by her side like a Texas Ranger ready to single-handedly take on a band of desperados. Billy Bob stood in front of her, smiling as she handed him the signed magazine.
When the young man moved aside, Wade smiled and leaned close to Andi, whispering something in her ear. He moved back slightly, his countenance revealing more than a hint of how he felt about her. They talked briefly, then he straightened and turned away. She watched him leave, smiling the way any man would want his woman to smile at him—full of sugar and spice and everything nice.
The woman news anchor grinned and lifted one perfectly arched brow. “Hmmm. Looks like Andi may have found something even better than peace and quiet in her hometown. According to the folks we talked to, the handsome man hovering protectively around her is Wade Jamison, an old high school friend and local rancher.”
Wade hit the mute button and sank back down to the chair, momentarily stunned. Quick, hot anger surged through him at the invasion of their privacy, but he quickly snuffed it out. He had been in a very public place with a famous entertainer. It came with the territory. He rewound the tape and hit the play button as the telephone rang. Muting the sound, he stared at the television and picked up the phone.
“Well, boy, looks to me like you cut the hay and already started balin’ it.”
Wade laughed, watching the scene again. “Hi, Grandpa. Kinda made a spectacle of myself, didn’t I?”
“True, honest feelings never hurt anybody. There’s many a man who would give everything he has for that little gal to look at him like that. She loves you, son. Don’t you ever doubt it.”
Wade stopped the video, freezing the frame of her face as she gazed at him. He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “You may be right.”
“Of course I’m right. Always am.” The older man’s tone turned serious. “This is just a taste of what you’re in for, son. If you can’t live with it, now’s the time to say so before you get in any deeper. Now, hang up the phone and call your lady. She’s probably worried sick about what your thinking.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking, Grandpa.”
“Well, figure it out fast.”
The line went dead, and Wade absently set the phone on the table beside him. Looking back over the past weeks, he realized that he hadn’t been much good at keeping his feelings for Andi hidden, because in his heart, he didn’t want to. “She’s mine. And I don’t care who knows it. I want every man out there who wants her for himself to know she belongs to me. Only me.”
He reached for the telephone with a hand that trembled slightly. When he said the words to her for the first time, it would be in person, but he didn’t want her to worry. He knew that after his behavior of the past week, she’d be concerned.
Dawn answered, then turned the phone over to Andi. He heard uncertainty in her hello.
“Hello, darlin’.” He spoke quietly in the same gentle tone he would use with a frightened horse, but added an extra measure of warmth. “Well, I reckon now I know how it feels to be on national television.”
“Wade, I’m sorry. I should never have asked you to come to the—”
“Hush, sweetheart,” he said tenderly, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “Don’t apologize for makin’ me the proudest man in all of Texas.”
CHAPTER 17
Whistling, Wade tucked his wallet in his pocket and picked up the keys to the Chevy coupe from the dresser, preparing to leave for the dance.
He had plans for the evening, ones that involved baring his heart and soul. He would take Andi home before the end of the dance and entice her out to the back porch to look at the full moon. Somewhere along the way, he’d tell her he loved her, couldn’t live without her, and ask her to marry him. It sounded so easy, but he knew it wouldn’t be.
What if she says no? What if she’s only interested in me because I’m here, nice and handy? Wade looked in the mirror, frowning at the doubt he saw in his eyes, the fear he felt in his heart. “She will say yes,” he said forcefully, trying to vanquish the uncertainty.
He put his hands on the edge of the dresser and hung his head, staring at the jumble of ballpoint pens, pile of pennies, and a couple of small screws that had wound up there. “Maybe you’ve got a few screws loose yourself, Jamison, for even thinkin’ she might want to spend her life with you.”
He took a deep breath and straightened, removing a handkerchief from the top drawer and stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Lord, am I seeing love in her eyes because I want it so desperately? Please give me wisdom. And if I ask her to marry me and she refuses, help me have the grace to accept it.”
***
The police roped off all three blocks of downtown Main Street for the benefit dance. The stage was a flatbed trailer parked in the intersection of Chestnut and Main. The museum committee had men posted at every corner of the cordoned off area, taking and selling tickets and stamping the hands of those who paid, so they could come and go
at will.
Folding chairs borrowed from a couple of churches lined the sidewalks near the buildings. More chairs were set up in the museum, along with a refreshment center run by the newly formed Friends of Buckley Museum. Wade thought most of the women in town and the surrounding area had baked cookies to be sold for a quarter a piece. Dawn had talked the local soft drink distributors into donating cases of beverages for them to sell. A large supply of paper cups sat by the water fountain inside the building. There was no alcohol, and all the advertisements for the benefit had asked people not to bring any since this was a family outing and all ages were invited.
At exactly seven o’clock, Dawn scampered up the steps to the stage and took the microphone, handling the welcome and announcements like a pro.
Wade was pleased that Andi wore the vest he had given her. It looked particularly nice with her red blouse and light-weight denim skirt. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”
“Only a couple of times,” she said with a teasing smile. “But you can always tell me again. It must have something to do with the vest.”
“It does look nice on you. I’m glad you like it.” They moved expertly across the street, waltzing in a smooth, easy rhythm to the music. “But, sugar, you’d be beautiful wearin’ a feed sack.”
“And scandalous.” She laughed, revealing her dimples. “I like your shirt,” she said, running her finger across the pattern woven into the lustrous, emerald green material. “It’s a nice color for you, brings out the green in your eyes.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he drawled, pressing his hand against her back and guiding her forward as he moved backward to avoid colliding with another couple.
“Say, cowboy, I think you lied to me.”
Love Song Page 16